The rain had stopped way before dawn, but you could still smell it, clean and sharp, like the world had been scrubbed raw.
From the open window of the dorm, Eryndor watched the sunrise try to climb over the academy's spires. The clouds were still hanging low, soft and heavy, painted in silver. For once, the courtyard was quiet; just the drip, drip, drip of water filled the air.
He hadn't slept much, though.
Every time he closed his eyes, he could still hear the storm, not the thunder outside, but the one that had broken loose inside him.
That voice, echoing. The power he'd tried to bury.
And Luca's face, calm, unflinching, right before everything went white.
Eryndor rubbed his head and sighed.
The room was cold. The kettle on the desk hadn't been touched, reflecting the weak morning light. He thought about making tea, but his arms and legs felt heavier than they should.
A soft knock came at the door.
He turned. "Come in."
The door opened and there was Callen, tall, lean, with his usual impatient look softened a little by how tired he was. He stepped in without waiting, his boots leaving marks on the damp floor.
"You look like hell," Callen said.
Eryndor smiled a little. "Good morning to you too."
"Morning, yeah. Good? Not sure about that." Callen leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Half the campus is still talking about what happened yesterday."
Eryndor stilled. "Rumors get around fast."
"They always do. But this time, it's worse." Callen's eyes narrowed. "Some of the upperclassmen are saying you summoned something during the duel. That you lost control."
Eryndor looked down. "They're not wrong."
Callen frowned. "What did you actually do?"
"I don't know," Eryndor admitted. "It wasn't a spell I cast. It was more like… it cast me."
For a long time, Callen didn't say anything. He walked over to the window, staring out at the misty grounds. "You think it's connected to your condition?"
Eryndor hesitated. "It has to be. I felt it again, that same pulse I felt when I first got here. Only stronger."
"Then we need to tell Professor Elara."
Eryndor shook his head. "No. Not yet. If she finds out, she'll have the Council look into me. And you know what that means."
"They'll restrict your magic," Callen muttered, jaw tight. "Or worse."
Eryndor gave a quiet, humorless smile. "Exactly."
Silence fell between them. The morning light got brighter, making sharp lines on the wooden floor.
Callen sighed. "You're a fool sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm aware," Eryndor said dryly.
"You could've died yesterday."
"Maybe. But I didn't."
Callen stared at him for a long time, then looked away. "Luca stayed with you last night."
Eryndor's eyes flicked up. "How do you know?"
"Because I passed him in the hallway at dawn. He looked… different."
Eryndor didn't say anything. His heart started to beat faster, betraying him.
Callen smirked a little. "I don't need to ask what happened. I can guess."
"Then don't guess," Eryndor muttered, reaching for his cloak.
But Callen's teasing changed into something else. "He's good for you, you know. I used to think you'd never let anyone close again."
Eryndor froze, cloak halfway on.
"Don't look so surprised," Callen said quietly. "You've been carrying that distance around like armor since the first day we met."
Eryndor fastened the clasp. "Armor keeps people safe."
"Or keeps them away."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he went to the door, needing the cool air outside. Callen followed him into the corridor.
It's funny how people see you, even when you think you're hiding.
The academy's hallways smelled like stone and rain. Students hurried past with books and damp cloaks, the usual noise coming back after the storm. But underneath, there was tension, whispers, glances, fear disguised as curiosity.
"People stare like I'm cursed," Eryndor murmured.
"Then let them stare," Callen said. "They don't know anything."
They reached the staircase to the main hall. Eryndor stopped.
Down below, Luca was standing near the notice board, talking to Professor Elara. He looked calm, his posture relaxed, but his eyes, even from that far, caught Eryndor's like a spark.
For a moment, the noise disappeared.
Luca said something to the professor, nodded, then turned. His gaze found Eryndor again. He didn't smile, but there was a silent exchange, a look that carried last night's weight, quiet but undeniable.
Then he walked off, his cloak trailing.
Callen nudged him. "You two really need to stop doing that in public."
Eryndor blinked. "Doing what?"
"That, whatever that was."
"It was just a look."
Callen grinned. "Exactly."
Eryndor groaned, pressing his head. "You're impossible."
"Someone has to remind you life isn't all gloom and mystery."
Before Eryndor could answer, hurried footsteps echoed. A first-year student, wet and out of breath, stumbled up to them.
"E-Eryndor! Professor Elara, she's calling for you."
Eryndor stiffened. "Why?"
"I don't know. She just said it's urgent."
Callen muttered, "Told you this would happen."
Eryndor sighed, adjusting his cloak. "Let's go."
They followed the student through the corridors to the west wing, the restricted section where only faculty and high-ranking students were allowed. The heavy oak door at the end of the hall was ajar. Inside, the scent of burning sage hung in the air.
Professor Elara stood by her desk, scrolls scattered around her. Her silver hair caught the light, and the crystal orb on the table pulsed blue.
When she looked up, her gaze was sharp. "Eryndor. Close the door."
He did.
Elara's tone was calm but unreadable. "What you unleashed yesterday wasn't a spell from our archives. I checked the sigil you drew in the dueling arena. It doesn't belong to any known branch of elemental or celestial magic."
Eryndor stayed quiet.
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Do you want to tell me what it was?"
"I don't know," he said, truthfully.
She studied him, then glanced at Callen. "You may go."
Callen hesitated but left. The door clicked shut.
Elara gestured to the orb. "When the energy surge occurred yesterday, every monitoring crystal reacted. The signature matched only one recorded source."
Eryndor's stomach turned. "What source?"
Her gaze held his. "The Lost Star phenomenon."
He froze. "That's impossible."
"I thought so too," she said quietly. "Until I saw this."
She touched the orb, and light burst across it, forming an image of the storm from the duel, the swirling energy. At its center, barely visible, was a silhouette, his silhouette, surrounded by fragments of light like falling stars.
Eryndor took a step back. "No…"
Elara's voice softened. "If that power truly resonates with you, it means the seal inside you is weakening."
His breath caught. "The seal?"
"You didn't think we accepted you here just for your potential, did you?" she said. "The Council wanted to keep you close. To watch. To prepare."
The room felt colder.
Eryndor forced his voice out. "Prepare for what?"
Elara's expression hardened. "For what happens when the Lost Star awakens again."
The orb dimmed.
It's funny how you can think you know your own story, and then someone pulls back the curtain.
The silence after Elara's words stretched forever.
Eryndor's heart pounded. He wanted to deny it, but he knew she wasn't wrong.
The seal. The Lost Star. The reason he was here. It all made sense, and that truth felt heavier than any curse.
Finally, he whispered, "How long have you known?"
Elara's expression softened. "Since the day you arrived. When you registered, your magic caused a fluctuation. I informed the Council."
Eryndor took a breath. "And they told you to keep me here."
"To protect you," she said. "And to protect others if your seal ever breaks."
He laughed, quietly, bitterly. "So I've been a ticking bomb this whole time."
"Eryndor"
"No," he cut in, voice low. "You should've told me."
Elara's shoulders tensed, but her tone stayed even. "If you had known, you might've tried to remove the seal yourself. That power isn't meant to be touched."
"Then why is it inside me?"
She hesitated. "Because you were born with it."
The words hit hard.
He felt the floor sway. Born with it, like a flaw etched into his soul.
Before he could reply, a knock came.
Elara frowned. "I told everyone not to interrupt"
The door opened.
Luca stood there.
He was breathing hard, his calm demeanor replaced with something fierce, desperate. His eyes found Eryndor, scanning, searching.
"Elara," he said, voice low. "The Council's messengers are here."
Her head snapped up. "Already?"
"They're in the main hall," Luca continued. "They want to question him."
Eryndor froze. "Question me?"
Elara's face turned grim. "It seems they didn't come just to talk."
Luca's gaze flicked toward Eryndor, a warning. "We need to move."
Elara started to protest, but Luca's voice left no room for argument. "If they take him now, he won't come back the same."
Eryndor stared between them. "What are you talking about?"
"The Council will say it's an investigation," Luca said, stepping closer. "But their Division of Arcane Regulation doesn't investigate, they erase."
Eryndor's breath caught. "Erase?"
"People like you," Luca said softly, "people whose magic threatens the balance."
Elara clenched her fists, torn.
After a moment, she turned away. "The eastern gate guard is still under my jurisdiction. If you're going to run, do it now."
Eryndor blinked. "You're… letting me go?"
Elara didn't look at him. "Consider it my last act of defiance."
Luca moved first, grabbing Eryndor's wrist. "Come on."
The corridor was empty, but tension crackled. The echoes of boots carried from the far end.
Luca pulled him along the back hallways, moving with familiarity, as if he'd memorized every route out.
Eryndor's mind spun. "You planned this?"
"I planned for what might happen," Luca said.
"And you didn't tell me?"
He glanced back. "Would you have believed me?"
Eryndor opened his mouth, then shut it. Maybe not.
They reached the stairwell to the gardens. The steps were slick, the air heavy. Every few seconds, a shout echoed.
"Luca," Eryndor said, breath uneven, "if we get caught"
"We won't."
"You sound very sure."
"I have to be."
At the base, they slipped into the courtyard. Morning light streamed through the mist, turning every droplet into silver dust. It should have been beautiful, but Eryndor could only feel his pounding heart.
"Wait," he said, pulling back. "If I'm really what they say, if this thing inside me breaks loose again,you shouldn't be here."
Luca turned sharply. "Don't."
"I'm serious," Eryndor said, voice rising. "You saw what happened in the duel. I could've killed you."
"You didn't."
"I could've."
"But you didn't," Luca repeated, stepping closer. "You think I care about the risk? You think I'd rather let them drag you away than stand next to you?"
Eryndor swallowed hard. Luca's hand was still on his wrist, his grip steady.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The mist curled around them, blurring the edges.
Then Luca's tone softened. "You once told me the stars were the only thing that never lied to you."
Eryndor blinked. "You remember that?"
"I remember everything you say," Luca murmured. "So tell me, right now, do the stars lie about this? About us?"
Eryndor opened his mouth but found no words. The answer was there, unspoken.
Footsteps broke the moment. Voices, closer.
Luca's hand tightened. "We're out of time."
He led Eryndor toward the outer wall, where ivy hid a passage. The eastern gate was visible, and beyond it, the forest. Freedom, for now.
But as they neared it, three cloaked figures emerged.
Council messengers.
Their robes were black and gold, the insignia clear. The one in front raised a hand, and a ripple of energy sealed the path.
"Eryndor Vail," the leader said, voice cold. "By order of the Grand Council, you are to come with us for containment and evaluation."
Luca stepped in front. "He's done nothing wrong."
"Step aside, Luca Verran," the messenger replied. "Your interference will be noted."
Luca's jaw clenched. "Then note this."
He drew his blade, inscribed with runes. The air trembled.
Eryndor grabbed his arm. "Luca, no! You can't fight them!"
"I can stall them," Luca said. "You run."
"I'm not leaving you!"
Their argument ended when the first blast of energy struck.
Luca parried it, the impact sending dust scattering. The courtyard lit up as magic clashed.
Eryndor stood frozen, watching. Luca moved like fire, but the messengers were relentless. Their power pressed him back.
Eryndor's chest burned. Something inside him stirred.
No… not now…
But it was too late. The seal reacted to his panic, to his fear for Luca.
The air shimmered, and the ground hummed. The messenger turned, eyes widening.
"Containment breach!"
"Eryndor!" Luca shouted. "Stay with me!"
He tried, but the light was bursting through. His vision blurred, and the world tilted.
Then, a hand, Luca's hand,ncaught his face, forcing his eyes open.
"Hey," Luca said, voice raw. "Look at me. Breathe. You're here. With me."
Something in that voice anchored him. The storm wavered, faltered… then dimmed.
The light receded. The hum stopped.
When Eryndor blinked, the messengers were gone, scattered unconscious. Luca stood in front of him, chest heaving.
Eryndor whispered, "What… did I do?"
"Saved us," Luca said.
He wanted to argue, but exhaustion hit. His legs gave out.
Before he could fall, Luca caught him. Eryndor could feel Luca's heartbeat, grounding, real.
Luca murmured, "We can't stay here."
Eryndor's voice was barely a whisper. "Where do we go?"
"Somewhere the Council can't reach." Luca glanced toward the forest. "There's a safehouse beyond the southern ridge. My family used it years ago."
Eryndor blinked. "You've been planning this all along."
Luca gave a faint smile. "Maybe I just knew you'd need me."
Eryndor wanted to smile back, but the weight pressed down.
As they slipped into the mist, he cast one last look at the academy.
And now, where it was ending.
The wind carried the chime of the bell tower as they disappeared.
Sometimes, the people you trust the most are the ones who can break you.