Seraphina sat cross-legged on her bed, her sketchbook open in her lap. Drawing was her way of thinking—her escape from the chaos swirling in her mind. The voice of Lumos still echoed softly, but it was Umbra’s last words that haunted her thoughts.

  She picked up her pen, the familiar rhythm of her strokes grounding her. The Astral Auditorium took shape first—its grand arches, the celestial device glowing at its centre. But something was wrong. The lines were too neat, too perfect. She paused, adding jagged shadows that crept like doubt, distorting the once-immaculate scene.

  Umbra’s voice pulsed again in her mind. What makes her so special?

  Seraphina hesitated, the words gnawing at something deep inside her. Vital. Was she vital to Alessa and Thorne, or just another face in the crowd?

  Her gaze drifted to the relic beside her. Its bronze surface reflected the soft light from her sketch, but now it felt... different. Watching her. Waiting.

  No. She pushed the thought aside. I can do this on my own.

  Her pen moved again, sketching a shadowy figure—Umbra, but not as she had seen her. A silhouette that seemed to devour the light around it, unbidden. A truth Seraphina wasn’t ready to face.

  Then came the whisper. Go on.

  Seraphina froze. The voice was barely a breath, but unmistakable. Her grip tightened on the pen, her heart racing. She stared at the page, the contrast of light and dark—was it always part of her? The darkness, the fear, the longing... Maybe it was something she’d known all along.

  The relic pulled at her again, sharper now, like an invitation. A promise of power, certainty—and something else... something too familiar. But at what cost?

  A quiet voice screamed in her mind to resist, but her fingers hovered above the bronze surface. The temptation won. She brushed her fingertips across it, and the air shifted. The light shimmered before her, coalescing into a figure—a woman of luminous form, ethereal and otherworldly.

  “Seraphina,” the figure said, her voice soft but resonant, as though it carried the weight of countless lifetimes.

  Seraphina blinked, her heart pounding.

  “You’re... here?”

  The figure inclined her head, a faint smile curving her lips.

  “I am Lumos. And yes, I am here.”

  The warmth in Lumos’s voice should have reassured her, but it didn’t. Seraphina’s heart pounded, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. “Why me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why did you choose me?”

  Lumos’s expression didn’t change, but something in her gaze deepened, as if she were looking through Seraphina rather than at her.

  “The relic is a bridge, a link between us. Through it, I reached you. I didn’t choose you because you are perfect or ready. I chose you because you are willing. ”

  Seraphina’s fingers curled tighter around the relic.

  “Willing?” she repeated, incredulous. “I can barely control my astralcrafting. I’m not… enough. I’ll just mess this up.”

  Lumos regarded her for a moment, then spoke with quiet certainty.

  “Control isn’t given—it’s forged, step by step. That is how you’ll learn. That’s why I chose you. And that’s enough.”

  Seraphina stared at her, frustration bubbling beneath her skin.

  “You’re asking me to do something I don’t understand. To trust a relic I barely know how to use. And for what? To fix the rift?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t even know if I can.”

  Lumos regarded her for a long moment, the glow around her dimming slightly.

  “The rift is spreading. If left unchecked, it will consume the Aether—and everything it touches. But this is not just about fixing something broken.” Her tone softened. “It’s about understanding what broke it in the first place. Now, may I show you more?”

  Seraphina took a slow, shaky breath. The uncertainty in her chest felt like a storm too vast to comprehend. The choice was before her: resist it, or step forward into the unknown. But despite the fear, despite the doubt, something inside her stirred—a quiet yearning, a fragile hope.

  She nodded, uncertain but willing to try. Lumos smiled. The light around her pulsed, steady and strong.

  Seraphina closed her eyes. The pull was unmistakable now—a sensation like gravity had vanished. Stars swirled behind her eyelids, light weaving in and out of her consciousness. The universe shifted, vast and intimate all at once.

  Lumos’s voice filled her mind, steady yet distant.

  “This is where it begins—the Aether. The force that ties us to Aetheria, to each other, and to the balance itself. The source of your Lumina Arts.”

  Seraphina glanced up at the distant lights scattered across the dark expanse. Small, distant, but somehow close.

  “The others,” she said quietly. “I take it these are also Guardians? Are they like me?”

  Lumos’s form shifted, like a reflection in rippling water.

  “Some of them. Each relic finds its bearer. Some paths will cross. Others won’t.”

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  Seraphina frowned.

  “So, I’m not the only one stumbling through this?”

  Lumos’s form rippled, her voice growing quieter.

  “Every Guardian faces doubt. It is not a weakness, Seraphina—it’s a beginning.”

  Seraphina swallowed, the weight of Lumos’s words pressing on her.

  “And the prophecy? Does it say anything about me? About… why this is happening now?”

  Lumos hesitated, and for the first time, her light faltered.

  “Prophecies are not absolutes. They’re choices, glimpsed through the veil of time. This rift—it echoes one sealed long ago by the Celestial Triumvirate. But something new stirs within it, something even I cannot fully see. The heart of the imbalance is in Nyxara. The flow of energy there is corrupted.”

  “Umbra,” Seraphina whispered, the name tasting bitter on her tongue.

  Lumos’s gaze sharpened.

  “She is a shadow born of chaos. Her role is not yet clear, but she will test you in ways neither of us can predict.”

  Seraphina exhaled shakily, the knot in her chest tightening.

  “She’s watching me. I can feel it.”

  “Perhaps she is waiting for you to falter. Or perhaps she is waiting for a purpose of her own,” Lumos said, her tone measured. “Not all shadows are enemies. Some are merely lost.”

  Seraphina didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The idea of Umbra as anything other than a threat didn’t fit. Yet something in Lumos’s words unsettled her.

  After a long silence, she looked back at the relic in her hand.

  “This isn’t just about the rift, is it?”

  The relic pulsed with warmth, and Seraphina’s thoughts drifted to the dream she’d once had—to become a Luminary, to be a shining beacon for Aetheria. But now, it wasn’t about becoming anything. It was about keeping things from falling apart, about protecting those she loved from the darkness she hadn’t yet fully seen.

  “This isn’t about becoming something, is it?” Seraphina said, her voice low. “It’s about protecting everything I still have.” Her gaze shifted to the relic, now pulsing in her hand, and she realized: she wasn’t looking for glory anymore. She was looking for a way to stop the darkness from taking it all.

  Lumos’s smile softened, her form glowing brighter.

  “Exactly.”

  Seraphina closed her eyes again. The fear was still there, but now it was no longer just for herself. It was for Alessa, for Thorne, for everything she stood to lose.

  “I’m afraid,” her breath hitched. “Afraid of what will happen if I fail. If I lose them.”

  Lumos’s voice was gentle, her words like a balm.

  “You won’t,” Lumos said gently. “But remember this: what you protect is not just your friends or your world. It’s the connections that bind them. Those bonds are your strength.”

  The relic in her hand pulsed, and with it, Seraphina’s resolve began to strengthen. At first, she’d wanted to become something—important, revered. But now, standing here, it wasn’t about becoming anything. It was about holding on to what mattered most. To protect them.

  Seraphina opened her eyes, meeting Lumos’s gaze. “I’m afraid,” she admitted.

  “That is why you’ll succeed,” Lumos replied. “Because fear means you care. And caring is where courage begins. Ask yourself—what is it you truly want to protect?”

  For a moment, Seraphina stood still, her grip on the relic steadying. The fear hadn’t vanished—it was still there, sharp and consuming. But alongside it, something else stirred. A quiet determination, fragile but growing.

  “My friends,” Seraphina whispered, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “And everything that matters to us.”

  Lumos’s light pulsed.

  “Then show me.”

  The relic glowed brighter in Seraphina’s hand, the pulse deepening until it matched her heartbeat. Light began to weave around her fingers, tentative at first, then more certain. Slowly, it expanded, forming a shimmering dome of golden light.

  “It’s a shield,” Seraphina whispered, awe slipping into her voice.

  “That’s better,” Lumos said, her voice calm but sharp. “Shape it like your astralcrafting.”

  She reached out, the shield growing from her hands, bright and steady. The light pulsed with her heartbeat, a reflection of her new understanding. The first step wasn’t about perfection; it was about protection.

  For the first time, Seraphina felt grounded in her purpose. She knew why.

  Seraphina glanced down at the shimmering dome. She had made it. The realization sent a small thrill through her.

  “I made this,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

  Lumos was silent for a moment, the soft glow in the room the only sound.

  “And you’ll make more,” she said at last. “But it’s not about perfection. It’s about what you do next.”

  Seraphina’s hand twitched, uncertainty creeping back.

  "What if I can’t control it? What if it shatters, or worse, hurts someone?"

  Lumos's voice was firm, but the warmth was still there.

  “You will control it. Trust doesn’t come from pressure. It comes from patience. You’ve already taken the first step.”

  Seraphina’s hand twitched, the weight of her fear still present. But this time, she held it steady. There was no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. She focused, letting the shield grow, allowing it to become part of her—fragile, but real. She tested it, watching the light stretch and bend in response to her thoughts. It felt… right. She adjusted the shape, letting it grow, letting it become part of her. Confidence sparked in her chest.

  Lumos’s gaze softened, her voice a quiet whisper.

  “This is only the beginning. But you’re ready for the next step.”

  Seraphina stared at the shield, the golden glow still flickering in her palm. The weight of the relic beside her was comforting, steady. I can learn this, she thought, a small spark of hope taking root.

  She turned her gaze to the relic, feeling its pulse beneath her fingers.

  “Can you teach me more? About the Aether? How can I control my powers better?”

  Lumos’s voice softened, but there was no hesitation.

  “I will show you what I can, but the true lessons come from your journey. The shield is just the beginning. Trust your instincts, Seraphina. They will guide you.”

  Seraphina looked down at her hands, the shield still flickering in her palm. She wasn’t sure of everything, but one thing was clear: it wasn’t about becoming a Luminary anymore. It was about learning to control the power she had, to protect everything she held dear. That was the next step.

  For the first time, it felt like she was on the right path—not perfect, not certain, but ready to move forward. Her heart still raced, but now it was from something else: purpose.