Night fell quietly over the Magic Academy.
The excitement from the duel still lingered, but Ethan felt uneasy. His victory had drawn too much attention. Eyes followed him now—curious, fearful, calculating.
That night, he couldn't find Lyria.
A strange feeling pulled him toward the old garden behind the academy, a place rarely visited. Moonlight bathed the stone paths in silver. At the center stood Lyria, surrounded by faint glowing symbols.
"Lyria?" Ethan called.
She turned, startled. The glow around her faded, but her silver eyes shone brighter than ever.
"You weren't supposed to see this," she said softly.
Ethan walked closer. "Then tell me the truth."
Lyria was silent for a long moment. Then she took a deep breath.
"I am Starborn," she said. "A race blessed—and cursed—by the stars. Our hearts are said to hold divine energy."
Ethan's chest tightened.
"The Empire hunts us," she continued. "They destroyed my people to steal that power. I've been running ever since."
The air trembled.
From the shadows, figures appeared—masked mages, their presence cold and sharp.
"They found you," Ethan said.
"Yes," Lyria whispered. "And now you're in danger too."
Ethan stepped in front of her without hesitation.
"Then they'll have to go through me."
The Fate Mark flared, responding to his resolve. Power surged—but this time, it felt different. Calmer. Stronger.
The attackers hesitated.
Ethan didn't.
The battle was short but fierce. When it ended, the attackers retreated, shaken.
Lyria looked at Ethan, eyes filled with emotion.
"You could have walked away," she said.
Ethan smiled faintly. "I already made my choice."
Above them, the stars shone brighter—as if watching.