Morning came quietly, as if afraid to disturb what the night had broken.
The sun's pale glow crept across the academy's stone towers, glistening against glass domes still wet from rain. A faint haze lingered in the air, soft and golden. Students were already moving through the courtyard, laughter and chatter echoing faintly between the marble pillars. But Erian felt apart from it all.
He stood by the window of his small dormitory, watching the rising mist curl along the edges of the gardens below. His reflection looked pale, his eyes shadowed, the image of someone who hadn't slept at all.
He hadn't.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of light, the runes, the star mark, and Aster's expression as he said "Some truths aren't meant to be remembered."
Erian pressed a hand against his wrist. The faint symbol beneath his skin was still there, dim but steady. When he focused, he could almost feel it pulse, like a second heartbeat.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Erian? You awake?"
He recognized the voice immediately, Mira, his roommate and fellow scholar from the Mana Theory Department.
"Yeah," he said, trying to sound normal. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Mira stepped in carrying a tray of tea and a loaf of warm bread. Her dark curls were messy, and her robe was only half-tied. "You missed morning lectures. Again."
Erian offered a weak smile. "I needed time to… clear my head."
"Right," she said skeptically, setting the tray on the table. "You've been clearing your head a lot lately. Usually before something weird happens on campus."
Erian blinked. "What do you mean?"
Mira sat down on his desk and leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Don't tell me you didn't hear. The guards sealed off the old observatory last night. Something triggered the ancient wards. No one's allowed near it until the High Mage investigates."
Erian froze. "They sealed it?"
She nodded. "Apparently, someone activated the Astral Convergence Seal. That shouldn't even be possible, it's been dead for centuries."
He looked away, feigning confusion. "Who would even know how to do that?"
"That's the question everyone's asking." Mira sipped her tea, then added casually, "They say the Prince himself was seen near the tower before dawn."
Erian's pulse quickened. "Aster?"
She shrugged. "Rumors, you know how it is. But it makes sense. The royal family has blood ties to the Astral line. Maybe he was investigating something private."
Erian said nothing. The idea of Aster covering for him, silently taking the risk, filled him with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt.
Mira leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. "You're acting weird, Erian. You didn't do something stupid, did you?"
He forced a laugh. "No. I was in the library all night, remember? Studying astral resonance."
She gave him a long, suspicious look, then sighed. "If you start glowing again, I'm dragging you to the infirmary myself."
Erian smiled faintly. "Deal."
As Mira left, the faint hum beneath his skin returned. He turned toward the window again. The mist outside was starting to fade, revealing the gardens in full bloom. But even as sunlight filled the room, Erian couldn't shake the feeling that shadows had begun to move behind it all.
Later that day, he found himself in the library, not by choice, but by instinct. It was quiet here, the scent of dust and old ink grounding him. The shelves stretched endlessly, filled with tomes on celestial lore, mana theory, and forbidden rituals.
He pulled out a volume bound in silver thread: "Records of the Celestial Bloodline."
As he flipped through the fragile pages, a line caught his eye:
When the Star's Heir awakens, the world shall shift. The seal will burn, and the chosen shall remember what was lost beyond the sky.
His fingers trembled slightly. Star's Heir. The phrase felt familiar, like an echo of something he'd once known.
"Researching forbidden prophecy again?"
The voice behind him was low, calm, and unmistakable.
Erian turned slowly. Aster stood a few feet away, dressed not in royal robes but in the academy's black uniform, though his presence still carried quiet authority. His gaze was unreadable as always, but Erian could sense the tension beneath his calm.
"I didn't expect to see you here," Erian said.
"I could say the same." Aster stepped closer, his boots silent on the marble floor. "You should stay away from anything involving the Astral Seal. The council is already suspicious."
Erian hesitated. "Are they investigating you?"
Aster's jaw tensed, but his expression didn't change. "They won't find anything. I erased the traces."
"You… protected me."
Aster looked at him then, truly looked, his golden eyes catching the faint light streaming through the stained glass window. "I told you to forget."
"I tried," Erian whispered. "But it won't let me. The mark, it keeps calling."
Aster's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "Then you need to learn how to silence it. Before someone else hears it too."
Erian swallowed. "You've heard it, haven't you? That pull, the same one that led us both to the observatory."
Aster didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was quiet. "Yes. But mine stopped years ago."
"Why?"
"Because I buried it," he said simply. "The moment I realized what awakening it would mean for this world."
The silence between them thickened, fragile and charged. The faint hum of mana around the shelves responded to the unspoken tension.
Erian took a slow breath. "What if the seal's activation wasn't a mistake? What if it was meant to happen now?"
Aster's expression darkened. "Don't say that."
"Why not?"
"Because destiny is not kind to those it chooses."
Their eyes met, and something wordless passed between them, a quiet understanding of pain shared across lifetimes.
Then, before Erian could respond, a voice broke the silence.
"Your Highness."
They both turned. At the far end of the aisle stood a man in a white cloak embroidered with the emblem of Solarius, the royal order of light mages. His face was calm, but his eyes sharp.
"Master Arven," Aster said smoothly, masking his earlier tension. "What brings you to the library?"
"The council requested your presence," Arven said, his gaze flicking briefly to Erian before returning to the prince. "They have questions about last night's incident."
Erian felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
Aster nodded. "Of course."
Arven inclined his head politely, but his tone held a quiet edge. "And perhaps you, young scholar, might visit the archives tomorrow morning. I believe the head librarian has… inquiries of his own."
Erian forced himself to meet the man's gaze. "I understand."
When Arven left, the silence that followed was suffocating.
Erian turned to Aster. "They know."
Aster's voice was low. "They suspect. There's a difference. Don't speak of this again, not to anyone."
Erian nodded, but his mind was already racing.
Because deep down, he knew the seal hadn't just awakened by accident. It had recognized them, both of them. And that meant something far greater was coming.
---
That night, the rain returned.
Soft at first, like the whisper of wings, then heavier, as if the sky itself was trying to drown the secrets left behind. Erian stood in the courtyard alone, the lantern light flickering across wet stone and puddles that reflected the pale moon above.
The mark on his wrist pulsed again.
Each heartbeat sent a faint shimmer through the rain, invisible to anyone else. He pressed his fingers against it, trying to silence it, but the more he tried, the louder the echo became inside his head.
Star's Heir.
The words from the ancient text wouldn't leave him.
He wasn't sure what scared him more, the thought that he might be chosen, or that he might not be human enough to resist what that choice meant.
"Out in the rain again?"
Erian turned. Aster was walking toward him through the mist, his cloak half-soaked, his silver hair clinging to his face. He looked nothing like the cold prince everyone worshipped. Tonight, he looked human. Tired. Real.
Erian tried to hide his surprise. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I could say the same," Aster replied. His tone was calm, but his eyes searched Erian's face with quiet intensity. "You skipped dinner. Mira said you haven't eaten since morning."
Erian gave a small shrug. "Didn't feel hungry."
Aster stepped closer, stopping just a breath away. "That's not an excuse."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The rain filled the silence, soft, steady, endless.
Erian looked down. "They questioned you, didn't they?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"They found nothing."
Erian exhaled slowly. "You shouldn't have covered for me."
Aster's expression didn't change. "You think I'd let them drag you into a tribunal for something you didn't even understand?"
"I triggered the seal," Erian said quietly. "I should be the one"
Aster cut him off. "You didn't trigger it alone."
Erian blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The Astral Seal responds to lineage, not incantation," Aster said. "It needs two carriers of the same resonance to awaken. You and I… we share that."
Erian stared at him, the realization sinking deep. "Then… we were both chosen."
"Or both cursed," Aster said softly.
A bolt of lightning illuminated his face for a heartbeat, the gold of his eyes glinting like the last fragment of a dying sun.
Erian's voice trembled. "You already knew."
"I've known since the day I first saw the mark beneath your skin."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because knowing it won't save you," Aster said, his tone suddenly sharp. "It'll only destroy you faster."
Erian took a step forward. "I'm not afraid."
"Yes, you are." Aster's voice lowered, almost a whisper. "You just haven't realized how much yet."
Something in his gaze made Erian's breath hitch. Beneath the layers of pride and restraint, there was something else, fear. Not for himself, but for Erian.
He wanted to ask more, but before he could, the sound of footsteps echoed across the courtyard.
"Your Highness!"
A group of light mages in white cloaks approached swiftly, their lanterns cutting through the mist. The man leading them was Arven, his expression unreadable but his tone firm.
"The council has requested your presence again, immediately," he said. "They've detected residual mana from the observatory spreading through the academy grounds."
Aster's jaw tightened. "Residual?"
"Yes," Arven said smoothly. "It seems the seal's influence wasn't fully contained. Some… lingering signatures remain."
His eyes flicked briefly toward Erian, sharp as a blade.
Erian felt his pulse quicken.
"I'll handle it," Aster said, stepping slightly in front of him. "There's no need to involve students."
"I'm afraid that's not my decision, Your Highness," Arven replied, bowing slightly. "If the readings match his mana signature…" He paused. "The council will have questions for the boy as well."
The tension between them crackled like lightning.
Aster's voice dropped, dangerously calm. "You're overstepping."
"I'm following protocol."
Rain fell harder, pounding against the stone like a thousand whispered arguments.
Finally, Aster said, "Give me until dawn. I'll deliver my report personally."
Arven hesitated, then nodded curtly. "Very well. But if the mana spreads further…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
When they left, the courtyard fell silent again, except for the sound of rain and Erian's unsteady breathing.
"They'll come for me," Erian whispered.
Aster turned to him, his cloak heavy with water, his expression unreadable. "Not if I move first."
Erian frowned. "Move first?"
Aster took a step closer, his voice dropping. "There's a place, outside the city walls. The Starforge Ruins. If we can reach it before the council locks the gates, we might be able to sever your connection to the seal."
Erian's mind spun. "You want me to run?"
"I want you to live."
The words hit like a pulse of heat in the cold rain.
Erian stared at him. "You'd defy the council… for me?"
Aster looked away, his jaw tightening. "Don't make me explain it."
He turned, but Erian caught his sleeve. "Then don't explain. Just tell me what to do."
Their eyes met again, closer now, closer than they had ever been. The faint starlight above reflected in their pupils, intertwining like mirrored constellations.
For a heartbeat, it felt as if the entire world had gone still. No rain. No wind. No sound, only the weight of something unspoken between them.
Then Aster whispered, almost to himself, "You shouldn't trust me this much."
Erian smiled faintly. "Too late."
By dawn, they were gone.
No one saw them slip past the academy's gates. No one noticed the faint shimmer of starlight that trailed behind their steps, like a path only the heavens could see.
Far above, the constellations shifted. A single star blinked, brighter than the rest, before vanishing entirely from the night sky.
And somewhere deep beneath the empire, something ancient stirred, awakened by the echo of two souls bound by light.
---