The morning air carried a chill that brushed against Erian's skin as he walked through the long marble corridor of the academy. Sunlight poured in from the tall windows, casting soft patterns of gold and silver across the floor. For a moment, everything felt too bright, too peaceful, as if the chaos from yesterday had been a dream he wasn't supposed to remember.
Yet his palms still ached faintly, a reminder of the magic that had almost devoured him.
He reached the courtyard, where the sound of sparring students and humming mana filled the air. The scent of mana crystals mixed with damp grass, and above them, the tower bells sang the hour of training. Erian's gaze wandered unconsciously, searching for a familiar figure.
He didn't want to admit it, but his heart knew exactly who he was looking for.
Aster Caelum stood near the far edge of the field, his silver hair catching the light like threads of frost. The crown prince's posture was perfect, straight, calm, untouchable, as he moved through a sequence of combat magic with frightening precision. The energy around him didn't merely obey; it worshipped him.
Erian stopped. Watching.
Aster turned his head, just slightly, and their eyes met for a fraction of a second. Blue and brown. Frost and earth. That single glance was enough to stir something deep inside Erian's chest, something that had no right to exist between them.
He looked away, pretending to adjust his satchel. The air suddenly felt heavier.
Professor Kael's voice broke the tension. "Thalos, you're late again." His tone wasn't harsh, but it carried enough weight to make Erian straighten immediately. The old mage's robe shimmered faintly with silver threads, a sign of a master who'd walked through countless spells and storms.
"I apologize, Professor. I was" Erian hesitated, searching for an excuse, "reviewing yesterday's incantations."
"Good," Kael replied, though his eyes seemed to read far deeper than Erian wanted. "Your control is improving, but your heart still wavers. A mage must be clear within, or power will find another master."
Erian bowed slightly, murmuring, "I understand."
But did he? He wasn't sure. His power came from something beyond what this world understood, a pulse of starlight buried inside his soul, whispering in a voice that didn't belong to this realm. Every time he touched that power, he felt both infinite and lost.
Kael moved away, leaving him among the others. Erian took his position, focusing on the runic circle before him. Mana swirled faintly at his fingertips, golden and trembling. He drew the first line, then the second, whispering words older than memory. The air rippled, and light gathered at his palm, forming a sphere that pulsed softly like a heartbeat.
For a moment, he felt in control. Then, from across the courtyard, Aster spoke.
"Your form is cleaner today."
Erian froze. The voice wasn't loud, but it carried easily, slicing through the chatter of the other students. He turned, startled to see the prince walking toward him, his cloak swaying lightly, boots clicking against the stone.
Aster stopped only a few feet away. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're not as careless as yesterday."
"I'm learning," Erian said quietly. "Though I'm still not good enough to impress Your Highness."
Aster's lips curved slightly, though not in amusement. "Magic isn't about impressing others. It's about surviving your own choices."
Their gazes met again, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow around them, the sunlight dimmed, the wind slowed, the noise of the academy faded into silence. Only the faint hum of mana connected them, like invisible threads woven by the stars above.
Erian spoke before he could stop himself. "Then what about you, Your Highness? Are your choices keeping you alive… or slowly killing you?"
Aster's eyes flickered, not with anger, but surprise. It was rare for anyone to speak to him like that. After a long pause, he said quietly, "Perhaps both."
Then he turned away, leaving Erian standing there with the echo of his words lingering in the air.
The training bell rang again. Students began dispersing, laughter and chatter returning to fill the silence Aster left behind. But Erian didn't move. His fingers brushed the faint mark on his wrist, a shimmer of light, like a star trying to break free.
He didn't know why, but that small connection, fragile and forbidden, felt like it would decide everything.
The sun was already dipping lower when the afternoon drills ended. The courtyard slowly emptied as students packed up their robes and spellbooks, leaving faint trails of mana dust drifting in the air. Erian lingered by the training field, his hands still faintly glowing with the residue of magic. He wasn't ready to go back yet.
Something about the silence after training always made his thoughts louder.
He stood near the same stone pillar where Aster had been earlier, his mind still replaying that short conversation. Every word, every look, clung to his memory like dew on glass. Perhaps both, Aster had said. The prince's voice had sounded calm, but there was a quiet sorrow behind it, something that made Erian's chest ache for reasons he couldn't name.
"Still here?"
The voice startled him. He turned to find Professor Kael again, this time without the usual sternness in his face. The old mage's robe fluttered gently in the breeze as he approached.
"Yes, sir," Erian answered, trying to sound composed.
Kael's eyes softened. "You remind me of someone I once knew. Always lost in thoughts that had no place in a battlefield."
Erian blinked. "Was he a student?"
"A prince," Kael said quietly. "One who wanted to save the world with kindness." His gaze turned distant, as though staring into a memory too heavy to revisit. "Kindness can be dangerous when the world doesn't want to be saved."
Erian looked down. "Then what should one do?"
"Choose," Kael replied simply. "But remember, every choice demands something in return."
The wind carried the faint toll of the tower bell again. Kael left him with that single word, and Erian remained by the field, watching the sky bleed into violet.
He couldn't understand why Aster's words and Kael's warning both felt like they were meant for him. Like threads being woven into a tapestry he couldn't yet see.
By the time he returned to his dormitory, the moon was already rising above the academy spires. His room was quiet except for the rustle of parchment as he opened his journal. The leather cover was worn, the edges frayed, a remnant of his past life, or at least, the life he remembered before awakening here.
He dipped his pen in ink and began to write.
Day 57 since rebirth.
I still don't understand this world fully. Magic responds to will, but mine feels… different. The stars whisper sometimes, like old friends trying to remind me of something I lost. And today… Aster Caelum spoke to me.
He hesitated before writing the next line.
There was something in his eyes. Not cruelty, not pride. Loneliness.
His pen paused again. He shut the journal softly, pressing his fingers to its cover. There was a faint warmth, the kind that came not from the paper, but from the memory of the moment.
That night, as he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, he felt the pulse of mana in the air shift. The stars outside the window shimmered brighter, as though aware of his thoughts. One, in particular, glowed faintly red.
He whispered to it without knowing why. "Do you think he feels it too?"
The light seemed to flicker in response.
Unseen to Erian, far across the academy's grounds, Aster stood alone on the balcony of his private quarters. The moonlight traced the sharp angles of his face as he unfastened his gloves and looked down at his palm. A faint mark, shaped like a star fragment, shimmered briefly there before fading.
He clenched his hand tightly.
"This connection… again." His voice was barely a whisper.
A gust of wind swept through the balcony, carrying the scent of night flowers and faint echoes of mana. Aster closed his eyes, remembering Erian's question from earlier: Are your choices keeping you alive, or slowly killing you?
He didn't have an answer. Not one he wanted to say aloud.
Because deep down, he already knew.
The bond between them was awakening, something older and stronger than either of them could control. The kind of bond written in the constellations, a link that defied logic, status, and even destiny itself.
But to acknowledge it would be to doom them both.
And yet, when Aster looked up at the stars, he found himself whispering the same name that had been echoing in his mind since the courtyard.
"Erian."
The night answered with silence.
The wind, however, carried his voice just far enough for the stars to listen.