The next morning arrived with soft rain. Droplets fell like silver beads across the academy's rooftops, painting everything in shades of quiet blue. The sound was steady, soothing, almost too peaceful for a world that felt like it was on the edge of something vast and unknown.
Erian sat by the window of his dormitory, his fingers resting on the glass. The cool surface grounded him, reminding him he was still here, still alive in this body, in this borrowed life. His dreams had been filled with light again. Not sunlight, but starlight, whispering his name in a voice he couldn't quite place.
When he woke, he swore he could still feel it, that pulse of warmth deep within his chest, faint but unyielding.
"Still dreaming again?"
The teasing voice came from his roommate, Lio Fenhart, a cheerful young mage with messy blond hair and a talent for showing up uninvited. He was leaning against the doorframe, holding two cups of steaming tea.
Erian smiled faintly. "Something like that."
Lio handed him a cup. "You've been spacing out a lot lately. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in love."
Erian nearly choked on his tea. "W–what? Don't be ridiculous."
"Then it must be stress. Or both." Lio grinned, unbothered by the glare he received. "Either way, you should relax before the evaluation trials next week. You don't want to collapse again in front of everyone, right?"
The memory of his last mana collapse still burned like an old scar. Erian exhaled slowly, staring at the rain outside. "I'll be fine this time. I've been practicing."
"Good. Because rumor says His Highness will be observing the trials himself."
Erian froze. "Aster?"
Lio shrugged. "Who else? He's the crown prince, and the trials determine which students get invited to the Royal Division next term. Everyone's nervous. Well, except me. I'm too handsome to fail."
Erian laughed softly despite himself. "You're impossible."
"I prefer 'irresistible,'" Lio said with a wink before heading out, leaving Erian alone with his thoughts again.
The rain didn't stop, and neither did the quiet restlessness inside him. Every time someone mentioned Aster's name, the rhythm of his heartbeat shifted, faster, sharper, as if his body remembered something his mind refused to accept.
When he arrived at the training hall later that morning, the air was thick with energy. Circles of shimmering light floated above the stone floor as students practiced their control. The scent of burning mana filled the air, sharp and electric.
Professor Kael was there again, his robes trailing faint glimmers of runes. He observed silently, occasionally offering guidance or a quiet correction. When his eyes found Erian, he nodded once.
"Thalos," he said, motioning for Erian to step forward. "Let's see what you've learned."
Erian inhaled deeply and raised his hand. Mana flowed from his core, swirling around him in a faint golden current. The runic circle beneath his feet lit up, reacting to his presence. He began tracing the sigils with practiced precision, each movement fluid and deliberate.
The magic responded smoothly this time, no surges, no tremors. Just balance.
Kael's eyes softened. "Better."
But before Erian could relax, the air shifted again. A gust of colder mana swept through the hall. The students turned as Aster entered, dressed not in royal armor but in a dark training coat lined with silver thread. Even without his crest, his presence commanded attention.
Erian felt his breath catch.
The prince's gaze swept over the room briefly, pausing, just for an instant, when it reached Erian. Then he looked away, walking toward Professor Kael. They exchanged quiet words, their voices too low to catch, before Aster turned to the class.
"Continue your training," he said simply, his tone calm but sharp. "The trials next week will not tolerate hesitation."
He began walking among the students, correcting forms, occasionally demonstrating a spell. When he reached Erian's circle, he stopped.
"Show me," Aster said.
Erian hesitated. "Now?"
"Now."
He swallowed hard, nodding once before raising his hand again. The golden current reappeared, glowing brighter this time. He began channeling the energy into the air, forming an orb that pulsed with a steady rhythm.
Aster watched closely, his expression unreadable.
"Your foundation is stable," he said after a moment. "But you're still holding back."
"I'm trying to stay in control."
"That's not control," Aster replied quietly. "That's fear."
Erian looked up sharply, meeting his gaze. The prince's eyes, cold blue, impossibly clear, seemed to pierce through him. For a moment, Erian forgot to breathe. The orb of light flickered, unstable.
Aster stepped forward, his gloved hand covering Erian's wrist.
"Don't resist the flow," he murmured. "Let it move through you, not against you."
Erian's pulse quickened. The warmth of Aster's touch spread through his skin, and the golden light steadied, growing stronger. It felt as though something ancient and familiar was awakening between them, that same pull he'd felt under the stars, the same rhythm echoing deep within his soul.
But Aster let go as quickly as he had touched him, stepping back. "Better," he said, his voice once again cool and distant. "That's enough for today."
He turned to leave, but Erian caught a flicker of hesitation in his movements, a faint tension in the shoulders that only someone watching too closely would notice.
When the prince was gone, the world seemed a little dimmer.
Professor Kael's voice brought Erian back. "You handled that well."
Erian smiled faintly, though his heart was still pounding. "I'm not sure if he was helping or testing me."
"Perhaps both," Kael replied. Then, with a rare hint of warmth, he added, "You remind him of something. Or someone."
Erian frowned. "Someone?"
Kael didn't answer, only gave a small knowing smile before walking away.
Erian stood there for a long moment, the echoes of Aster's mana still lingering in the air like a half-forgotten melody. The rain outside had stopped, but the world still felt heavy with unspoken things.
He didn't know it yet, but that brief touch had changed the flow of both their fates, threads of starlight quietly weaving tighter, unseen by those who stood around them.
And in the quiet corner of the empty hall, the faint shimmer on Erian's wrist glowed once again, pulsing in rhythm with another heartbeat far away.
---
The rain had stopped by the time evening settled over the academy, leaving behind a faint mist that clung to the stone paths and the glimmering spires. Lamps along the corridor flickered to life, casting golden halos through the fog. Erian walked alone, his thoughts heavy with the memory of Aster's touch earlier that day.
He shouldn't have felt anything. It was a simple correction, a moment between a teacher and a student, nothing more. Yet the warmth still lingered like a quiet ember beneath his skin, impossible to extinguish.
His steps echoed softly as he passed the empty lecture halls. The scent of parchment and mana crystals hung in the air, familiar and grounding. But tonight, it felt different. The silence wasn't peaceful; it was expectant, almost alive.
When he reached the courtyard, the sky had cleared enough for the stars to peek through. He looked up instinctively. The same red star from the night before shone faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
He whispered, "What are you trying to tell me?"
The air shimmered faintly in response, as if the world itself was listening.
"Talking to the stars again?"
The voice startled him. He turned to find Lio standing under a nearby arch, arms crossed, a playful grin on his face. His hair was still damp from the rain, sticking to his forehead.
Erian sighed in relief. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."
Lio shrugged. "You make it too easy. You're always somewhere you shouldn't be."
"I could say the same about you."
"True," Lio said, walking closer. "But I don't stare at the sky like I'm waiting for it to answer."
Erian hesitated, unsure how to respond. "It's just… peaceful."
Lio studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You know, most people look up hoping to find destiny. You look like you're remembering it."
Erian blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Forget it," Lio said quickly, waving his hand as if to dismiss the thought. "Anyway, rumor says the royal council will visit next week too. Big names, high expectations. You'd better not draw attention with your golden magic tricks."
"I'm not looking for attention."
"Maybe not," Lio said softly. "But sometimes, attention finds you whether you want it or not."
Before Erian could ask what he meant, the academy bell rang, long, deep, echoing through the mist. Lio gave a lazy salute. "Curfew's coming. Don't stay out too late, or the patrol mages will scold you again."
"I'll be fine."
"Famous last words," Lio muttered before disappearing down the corridor.
Erian stayed a moment longer, letting the cold air brush against his face. He closed his eyes, feeling the quiet hum beneath the ground, the steady thrum of the leyline that ran beneath the academy. It was faint, but familiar. Almost like it was calling him.
He followed it.
The path led him to the old observatory at the far edge of the campus, a place students rarely visited anymore. The heavy door creaked as he pushed it open, dust swirling in the dim light. Inside, the vast dome ceiling revealed the night sky through glass panels, some cracked with age.
Erian climbed the central platform, the scent of old parchment and starlight filling his senses. At the center of the room stood an ancient rune circle etched into the floor, faded but still faintly glowing.
"This is it…" he murmured. "The Astral Convergence Seal."
He'd read about it in the archives, a remnant from an age when magic was tied directly to celestial bodies. It was said to resonate with those who carried the mark of the stars. His mark.
As he stepped into the circle, the air changed.
The runes flared to life, light spiraling upward in threads of silver and gold. His heartbeat matched their rhythm, faster, louder. The mark on his wrist burned softly, and for a moment, he felt another presence, distant but unmistakable.
Aster.
He saw flashes, fragments of memories that weren't his. A silver crown, shattered glass, a hand reaching for him through fire.
Then everything went white.
When the light faded, Erian was on his knees, gasping. His hands trembled as he looked around, but the observatory was still. The runes had gone dark again, leaving only the echo of their glow.
"What was that?" he whispered.
The door creaked.
His heart jumped. A figure stood in the doorway, tall, cloaked in the faint blue shimmer of mana.
Aster.
The prince's expression was unreadable, his eyes reflecting the remnants of the spell's light. "You shouldn't be here."
Erian stood quickly, still catching his breath. "I didn't mean to, I was following the leyline. It led me here."
Aster stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a tide. "You activated something ancient. Do you have any idea what that means?"
"I just wanted to understand," Erian said quietly. "I can feel it calling me. The magic… it reacts to me."
"That's exactly the problem."
The air between them was charged, not with hostility, but with something deeper, fear, awe, recognition. Aster looked at him as if seeing something both familiar and dangerous.
"Erian," he said finally, his voice softer now. "If anyone else had found you here, they would have reported you to the council."
"Would you have?"
Aster's jaw tightened. "No."
Silence fell. Outside, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance. The faint glow from the cracked glass above painted their faces in pale starlight.
Erian took a hesitant step closer. "Then why are you here?"
For a long moment, Aster didn't answer. Then, quietly, he said, "Because I felt it too."
Erian's breath caught. "The light?"
"The pull," Aster corrected. "The same one that led you here."
They stood there, the distance between them no more than a breath. The air trembled with unspoken things, fear, longing, the quiet knowledge that whatever had drawn them together was older than both of them.
Aster turned away first, his cloak brushing faintly against Erian's arm as he passed. "Forget what you saw tonight," he said, voice low but firm. "Some truths aren't meant to be remembered."
Then he was gone, the echo of his footsteps fading into the rain.
Erian stood there for a long time, the silence pressing against his chest. But when he looked down, the faint mark on his wrist glowed again, brighter than before.
And this time, he didn't try to hide it.