Celeste lay still that night, eyes open long after Lyra had fallen asleep.
Even with the illusion cast tightly over her, she felt exposed. Had she been a second late all her plans would have fallen apart.
Lyra had nearly seen her.
The thought made her chest tighten—not from fear, but something worse: uncertainty. And yet, the girl hadn't judged her once. Hadn't flinched at her aloofness or forced a smile. Instead, she'd offered stolen tea like they were already friends.
Celeste rolled onto her side, the stars outside her window twinkling faintly through the glass. Somewhere beyond, the constellations shifted.
You shouldn't get close to anyone, she reminded herself.
______________
The blaring horn shattered her thoughts the next morning.
A voice echoed magically through the halls:
"First-years, report to the main courtyard in ten minutes. Full physical gear. Latecomers will clean griffin stables for a week."
Lyra groaned from her bed. "Didn't we just get here?!"
Celeste was already up, dressed in her plain black training uniform. She tied her silver-blonde hair into a messy bun—well, illusioned mouse-brown, really—and headed toward the door without a word.
"You're scarily punctual, Celeste," Lyra muttered, dragging herself after her.
The training courtyard of Astralis Institute was a marvel—concentric rings layered with different terrains and elemental challenges: sand pits, ice paths, stone arenas, even floating obstacle orbs. Students were already forming lines, some stretching, others sparring with low-level magic bursts.
Celeste spotted them almost instantly.
Auren Drakaris stood at the center of the ring, laughing as he blocked a flaming strike from his opponent. He was shirtless, muscles defined, dragon tattoo glowing faintly down his spine.
Auren's fire magic crackled in his hands—like it belonged there. Controlled, raw, alive.
Beside him stood Kael Vireon, his best friend from House of Shadows. Kael moved with quiet precision, slipping behind dummies using shadows like steps. His attacks were clean, silent, elegant.
A little further off, Lucien Drakaris, Auren's older brother, watched with arms crossed. His element—water—coiled protectively around his boots, flickering with soft blue light.
At his side, Rhydian Valehart punched straight through a boulder with a fist cloaked in shattering force. The ground around him cracked like glass.
The strongest sons of Veyruun, Celeste thought.
And they all stood together—four boys, noble-born, powerful, and… surprisingly relaxed. Like friends, not rivals.
She hadn't expected that.
She stood quietly near the back as Headmaster Solren arrived in a flash of violet light, surrounded by floating scrolls and orbs.
"Welcome to Day One of your training," Solren boomed. "Here at Astralis, we cultivate strength in three paths: Body, Mind, and Magic. Every week, you'll rotate between combat drills, spellcasting refinement, and theoretical history of the empires. Expect no mercy."
Some groaned. A few cheered.
"You will push your limits, break past bloodlines, and one day, defend the balance of the Seven Empires."
His voice softened slightly.
"Here, your family name means nothing. Only your willpower matters."
Celeste blinked.
That—she hadn't expected either.
"Now," Solren continued, raising a hand. "Today is simple. You will all spar in matched pairs. No lethal strikes. No channeling above second tier. Instructors are watching."
The rings began to shift, glowing symbols rearranging into dueling arenas.
Kael leaned toward Auren. "Ten aurons she flattens you this time."
**Ten aurons here is equivalent to ten gold coins**
Auren grinned. "Please. My fire's evolved."
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Don't burn the arena again."
Nearby, Lyra elbowed Celeste. "Who do you think would win between them?"
Celeste remained silent, eyes scanning the matches… until she felt it—
—a flicker.
A faint trace of constellation energy activating in the distance.
Someone, somewhere, had unintentionally triggered a star-aligned pattern.
She inhaled sharply.
Someone in this academy might be connected to the constellations?
No, it was probably just a fluctuation. She needed to stay hidden. Stay small.
"Room 73-B, step forward," one instructor called.
Celeste froze.
So did Lyra.
"…That's us," Lyra whispered.
They stepped onto the ring.
Celeste kept her stance closed, quiet, defensive.
Lyra smiled playfully. "Don't worry. I won't break you."
Celeste almost smirked. Almost.