Abell sprinted up the hillside, each step sending a sharp ache. He ignored it.

  The town stretched below him, bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun. He knew this view too well. Peaceful. Ordinary. A cage.

  He climbed onto a jagged rock, hands clenched at his sides. The weight in his gut twisted tighter.

  “ARGHHH!”

  His voice echoed into the open sky, carried by the wind. But it didn’t change anything. The frustration still burned inside him.

  “It’s still not good enough.” He thought.

  “Genevive was already capable of more at a younger age.” He growled.

  His gaze moved to the town and its people.

  “How much longer will I stay here?

  “She was already traveling the country, fighting Malignants. She became a Luminary…” He scoffed. “And I’m still here—playing town guard.”

  The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, but his gaze remained forward.

  “You okay, Abell?”

  Abell recognized the voice immediately.

  “Yes, I’m fine, Astrid. Just resting,” He replied.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Because yelling into the sky is totally how normal people rest.”

  Abell sighed, rolling his eyes. “Did my mom send you?”

  “Miss Keeko was worried. And she told me to patch you up.” She said.

  “I don’t need any patching up.

  Astrid didn’t even hesitate. She moved to his side—and jabbed him in the ribs.

  “OWW! What the..” Abell yelled out.

  She smirked. “See? You do need patching up.”

  Abell pouted but let her work. The cool touch of the cloth was oddly satisfying against his wounds. Her hands were steady and practiced.

  She finished wrapping up his wounds but hesitated because he stared at her intently.

  “What?” She asked.”

  Abell leaned back, arms crossed. “You're serious about this doctor thing. You used to suck at this.”

  Astrid narrowed her eyes. “Wow. Thanks for the compliment, Abell.”

  He shrugged. “I mean, you got better.”

  A short silence. Then—

  “Hey, Abell.”

  “What?”

  “Thanks for everything.” She spoke softly. “I know how much work you’ve put in over the years to protect our town.” She paused, gazing at the town below.

  “You act like it’s only for yourself, but I know you care.” She said

  “I don’t know what you're talking about,” Abell said, shifting his posture.

  Astrid grinned. “Ah ha, so that’s your weakness. You love being praised.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I think you hit your head.” He said, walking down the hill.

  She laughed. Sure, whatever you say, Mr. Hero. Let’s head back. The feast is starting.”

  Abell performed shoulder rolls to release the tension remaining in his muscles.

  “You'll be fine, Mr. Hero; the pain should clear up soon,” Astrid teased, nudging him.

  He breathed out through his nose while giving the open sky one final glance. The fire of his frustration remained alive but had lost its former crushing intensity.

  The air carried distant laughter and burning fire to his hearing.

  The festival was in full swing.

  The aroma of roasted meat intensified as they descended the hill together.

  Lantern light danced across the town square while celebratory sounds enveloped them in a warm embrace.

  Abell didn’t stop moving. The town had stopped treating him as an outsider even though he didn’t want to be surrounded by people.

  Abell wove through the festival crowds, dodging merchants, stray kids, and—most importantly—his mother. He wasn’t in the mood for another lecture.

  The scent of roasted meat, baked bread, and sizzling spices thickened the air. Laughter and music spilled from every corner of the square. For once, the town felt alive.

  Then he heard it.

  “ABELL!”

  A blur of motion. Misha shot toward him at full speed.

  Before Abell could react, the kid crashed into him, barely stopping himself from bouncing off.

  “That was AMAZING!” Misha shouted. “The sword, the Malignant—you just went at it!”

  Abell sighed—energy for days.

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, little guy.” He ruffled Misha’s hair to distract him, partially because he didn’t know what else to do.

  Misha froze. His mouth opened—then closed. His entire system just… shut down.

  Astrid smirked. “You broke him.”

  “N-no!” Misha sputtered, puffing his chest. “I just—wasn’t ready for that!”

  Astrid snickered. “Sure.”

  She glanced at Abell. “Thanks. You’re a huge help to us.”

  Her parents nodded in agreement. “I know he’s a handful,” Astrid continued, nudging Misha, “but he looks up to you.”

  Abell paused.

  He rolled his shoulders and turned away. “Tell him to eat slower before he chokes.”

  Astrid grinned. “Noted, Mr. Hero.”

  Abell didn’t respond. But somehow, the night didn’t feel so bad anymore.

  As Abell made his way down Main Street, he spotted trouble.

  Hugo—lounging in a chair, effortlessly draped in confidence, surrounded by a group of giggling townswomen.

  “That guy’s a handful,” he muttered, keeping his distance. “Better stay clear.”

  But as he passed, their conversation caught his ear.

  “So, mister Luminary,” one of the women purred, “who exactly are you?”

  Hugo stretched lazily, arms behind his head. “Me?” He grinned. “Nobody important.”

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seems like you know Ms. Keeko. What are you, an old flame?”

  Abell’s foot hesitated mid-step.

  What?

  He wasn’t interested—except now he was.

  Hugo chuckled, completely unfazed. “Still as stunning as ever, but no.”

  “Oh, I see.” They sounded dejected. “I thought it was something from this Vivi Alsaint novel I’m reading.

  Her friend Interjected. “Ugh, you're still reading that. Anyways, are your eyes natural?”

  Hugo chucked. “Well, that’s enough questions; I’ve got someone to meet.”

  Then, his gaze shifted—directly to Abell.

  Abell tensed.

  He hadn’t realized it, but everyone else had faded into the background. The moment Hugo locked onto him, it was as if the festival around them no longer existed.

  A predator setting his sights.

  “Is he coming over here?” Abell exhaled sharply

  Hugo pushed himself up from the chair, moving toward him. “Well, Mr. Vespera,” he teased. “Ready to talk?”

  Abell’s jaw tightened. He hated how casual and giddy this guy was.

  “What’s so important that you didn’t want my mom to hear?” His voice was flat. “She doesn’t seem to trust you much.”

  Hugo chuckled, shaking his head. “Smart woman.” Then his smirk faded slightly. “I came here to investigate this town. See how it’s stayed safe. But now…” He tilted his head. “I see fate brought me here.”

  His posture shifted.

  “The Malignant threat is growing by the day,” Hugo said. “We need fighters. People with talent.”

  “You’ve got a solid foundation, Abell. I’m not saying you’d be a Luminary immediately, but you have the traits.”

  “Spit it out.” Abell narrowed his eyes.

  Hugo’s grin returned, sharp and knowing. “I’m offering you a recommendation to join the Luminary Academy.”

  The words hit like a hammer.

  “It’s the best place to test your skills against the strongest in the country. To control your power. To stop wasting time here.”

  Abell’s mind raced. The Luminary Academy. The real deal. Not just patrolling the town—but standing alongside the strongest warriors in Eudora.

  His fingers curled slightly. “Hmm… but who even are you?” His voice was steady, but his gaze was sharp.

  “Can you just hand out recommendations like that? The Academy’s not exactly easy to get into.”

  Hugo’s grin widened.

  “I thought your mom would’ve told you.” He took a step closer. “I’m Hugo Creed—Head of the Shining Order.”

  The world around them seemed to pause.

  Wait. What? Abell thought.

  Hugo extended a hand, his usual mischief softening into something almost… genuine. “So?” he said smoothly. “This is your chance to see the world. Test your limits.”

  Abell hesitated.

  The town, the festival, the familiar life he’d always known felt smaller now.

  He took a breath. Then he grasped Hugo’s hand, firm and steady.

  “I accept.”