The moonlight painted long silver lines across the deserted training grounds. The academy had gone quiet for the night; most students were asleep, exhausted from the day's trials.
But Orion couldn't rest. He stood alone at the center of an empty circle, the grass damp beneath his boots, the crisp air cold against his skin.
> "I felt it again today… that spark.
If I wait for it to appear on its own, I'll stay weak forever."
He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, centering his breath as he had in the disciplined drills of his former life.
The world around him fell into silence. He could hear the wind brushing through the grass, the faint creak of the wooden training dummies, even the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat.
He raised his hand, palm open, and concentrated on that memory—the moment the violet crescent had flashed in defiance against Rhyden's mockery.
At first there was nothing. Then a faint tingle, like the prickling chill of a winter breeze, spread from his chest down his arm.
A spark flickered between his fingers.
Dark-violet, like starlight hidden in deep night.
It wavered, unstable, then faded.
He exhaled, trying again, adjusting his stance.
> "Not through force. Through focus…
It's not like the Stellar Cores.
It's as if the space around me is responding…"
Unseen to Orion, the shadows beneath the training dummies began to ripple faintly, as if stirred by a breeze that wasn't there. The grass shivered though no wind passed.
From the edge of the grounds, a pair of eyes glimmered in the darkness—Lyra's. She had come to find him after realizing his bed was empty.
Her breath caught as she saw the faint violet shimmer pulse outward from Orion's stance, briefly warping the shadowy shapes around him.
Orion lowered his hand, then tried a different approach: recalling not just the spark, but the instinct that had moved his body in the trial.
Not thought.
Not effort.
Pure reflex.
The energy pulsed again, stronger this time, forming a thin crescent blade of shadowy light that traced an arc in the air before dissolving.
A faint shockwave rippled through the grass, and the nearest training dummy toppled over.
Orion's eyes widened, not with pride, but with understanding.
> "It's not Stellar energy.
It's… something deeper.
Something that remembers motion, the void between stars."
An Unseen Witness
On the rooftop above the grounds, Seraphine crouched in the shadows, her dark hair lifting in the night breeze.
A whisper of amusement touched her lips.
> "The Eclipse stirs again.
And yet he still thinks it's just training…"
Her eyes glimmered silver as she continued to watch.
Lyra stepped into the moonlight, her soft blue glow casting a halo around her.
"Orion… you're supposed to be resting."
Her voice held a mixture of worry and awe.
Orion turned, surprised but not defensive. "I needed to understand it. Whatever this is… it's not like your Core. It's different."
"I saw the shadows move," she said quietly. "That's not normal. If the instructors find out, they'll start asking questions you may not be ready to answer."
He looked down at his hand, still tingling faintly. "Then I'll have to learn fast."
They stood in silence for a moment, the twin moons casting silver light over the grounds.
Lyra's voice softened. "You're not alone in this. Remember that."
Orion gave a faint, rare smile. "Thanks. But I have to figure out where this power comes from… and why it feels so familiar."
He looked up at the vast night sky, the stars scattered like distant sparks.
> "Whatever I was before, whoever I am now…
I'll master this power.
I won't let it control me."