The trio sat in Professor Isolde Stellaris’ office, the air thick with unspoken tension. The space was a blend of precision and mystery— constellations flickered across the walls, casting shifting shadows over polished instruments on pedestals. Above them, silver arches curved toward the ceiling, suspended orbs of light swaying with a subtle rhythm. It was a space filled with purpose, just like the professor herself.

  Thorne absently tapped his lute, the sound betraying his nerves.

  "So," he muttered, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Think she’ll actually tell us something useful this time?"

  Alessa, seated across from him, studied a crystal sphere perched on a nearby pedestal.

  "Depends. Do cryptic riddles count?"

  Seraphina kept her gaze down, her fingers curling around the strap of her satchel. She couldn’t shake the memory of Umbra’s taunting words in the library. Do you think they’d risk everything for you? The question echoed in her mind, gnawing at her. Was she truly just another pawn in some larger game?

  The warmth of the relic flared subtly in her satchel, unnoticed by the others but unmistakable to her. Lumos was responding to her turmoil—calming, yet amplifying her uncertainty. She didn’t fully understand it, but she had come to find the guardian’s presence comforting, always pulling her toward something greater.

  A sharp cough broke the silence, pulling Seraphina from her thoughts. She looked up, momentarily startled as Professor Stellaris rose from her seat. The golden light streaming through the window bathed her in warmth, accentuating the shimmer of her midnight-blue robes. Her gaze swept over them with the calm authority of someone who had seen far more than any of them could understand.

  "Now," Stellaris started, her voice cutting through the tension. "It’s time we addressed your situation."

  Thorne stopped tapping his lute mid-strum, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his expression unreadable. Alessa shifted forward, her chair creaking as she leaned in, her sharp gaze never leaving the professor. Seraphina remained still, the growing warmth from her satchel a quiet reassurance.

  Thorne broke the silence first, his voice tight with frustration.

  "If this is about Enterprise Day, we've been trying to—"

  “It is about Enterprise Day,” Stellaris said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She moved to her desk, fingers brushing the edge of an astrolabe that spun slowly, casting faint light across the room. "As you know, the device you activated is called a Cosmos Map. Its activation was expected. The reaction... unprecedented."

  Alessa’s gaze sharpened.

  “What kind of reaction?”

  Professor Stellaris exhaled, the weight of her words settling in the air.

  “The map is from the Lumina Archives, older than anything we’ve studied in Aetheria. Its purpose was debated for centuries, until Headmistress Magdalene introduced it into your curriculum. She thought it might resonate with modern Lumina Arts. But she couldn’t predict what it would do to you.”

  Seraphina’s fingers brushed the relic. It pulsed stronger now, almost too tangible. What had triggered this—her, or the relic?

  Alessa frowned.

  “So you’re saying this was an experiment?”

  Stellaris’s lips twitched.

  “If you want to call it that, yes. But the map revealed something. An anomaly, or rift, in the Veil of Aether. It’s unstable, and growing.”

  The weight of her words sank in. Seraphina could feel the relic throb again, as if it, too, sensed the danger.

  Alessa’s eyes narrowed.

  “How do we know the map’s not just broken? It’s ancient.”

  “It’s not a malfunction,” Stellaris replied, her voice firm, though weariness touched her tone. “The map didn’t just flicker—it resonated. Not with researchers, not with faculty. With you. Alessa, you decoded its shifting patterns. Thorne, your music stabilized its frequencies. And Seraphina…” She looked at her, her gaze unreadable. “You felt it, didn’t you? The pull. The light. The connection.”

  Seraphina’s stomach tightened. She did feel it—the pull, the light, the strange bond forming between her and the relic. It was too much. Too overwhelming.

  Professor Stellaris’ voice softened.

  “The Veil of Aether is the energy barrier that separates the known islands of Aetheria from the vast, uncharted territories beyond. It’s like a protective membrane, keeping the world in balance. But its energy is constantly in flux, shifting and reacting to the forces around it. That makes it unstable. It’s prone to fractures, like cracks in ice.” She paused, her gaze distant. “This rift, this breach—it’s a tear in the very fabric that separates our world from what lies beyond. I’ve felt something like this before. But last time... it didn’t end well.” She exhaled sharply. “If we don’t act quickly, the consequences won’t just be confined to Aetheria.”

  The weight of her words settled like a heavy fog. For a brief moment, Stellaris seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant, tethered to an old memory.

  Seraphina swallowed hard.

  “Professor Stellaris… there’s something I need to tell you. Umbra—”

  Stellaris’s gaze snapped to her, sharp and piercing, as if she’d anticipated the conversation.

  “Umbra?”

  Seraphina hesitated, chest tight.

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  “She said that you… the professors… aren’t telling us everything. That the Sanctum’s at risk, and…” She faltered, struggling to find the right words. “That the truth about the academy’s plans might be more dangerous than we know.”

  For a brief moment, something flickered across Stellaris’s face—an imperceptible tension, quickly masked by a calm smile. Her eyes, however, remained steady, unshaken.

  “I see Umbra has shared her thoughts.” Her voice was even, but there was a slight edge. “She has a gift for sowing doubt. But as students, your focus should remain on facts, not speculation. Her words are not your guide—your instincts and what we uncover together are.”

  Seraphina leaned forward, voice tight.

  “But what about the Celestial Sanctum? What if she’s right?”

  Stellaris studied her for a moment, unblinking. The room seemed to grow quieter, the weight of her gaze pressing down.

  “The Sanctum is vital, yes, but so is trust. Headmistress Magdalene has safeguarded it for decades. Do you truly believe she would allow harm to come to it—or to you?”

  Seraphina hesitated, struck by Stellaris’s conviction. It almost made her believe everything was under control.

  “Right now,” Stellaris continued, voice firm but softening just slightly, “our focus must remain on the anomaly. That is where the danger lies. Not in idle threats from a student who feeds on doubt.”

  Seraphina opened her mouth to argue, but the quiet authority in Stellaris’s voice held her back. The professor’s calmness was implacable, almost suffocating. The weight of the map, the urgency of the anomaly—it swirled together in her mind, amplifying her unease. Was Stellaris downplaying the threat, or trying to prevent panic? Seraphina couldn’t decide which was worse.

  Thorne broke the silence, his voice tight.

  “So all the drills, the riddles, the training… it wasn’t just busywork?"

  “No,” Stellaris replied, her gaze steady. “It was preparation. Sylvorel’s harmonics, Astra’s puzzles—they sharpened your abilities. We suspected the map might awaken, but what it revealed… exceeded our expectations. This anomaly defies Aetherian laws. It’s volatile, dangerous, and growing.”

  Alessa crossed her arms, eyes narrowed.

  “And you want us to fix it? We’re students, not researchers.”

  “You’re more than students,” Stellaris said, her voice unwavering. “The map chose you for a reason. You’re uniquely connected to it—and to the anomaly. Your training has prepared you for this moment, even if you don’t fully realize it. Everything you’ve learned—it’s all led to this.”

  She paused, letting the words sink in, locking eyes with each of them.

  “But you won’t face this alone. Professors Sylvorel and Astra will accompany you, and I’ll oversee the mission personally. But you three are the focal point. The path of a Luminary is not just about knowledge—it’s about action. You’ve been trained to wield your gifts, not just to study, but to act when chaos threatens Aetheria.”

  Thorne clenched his fists on the arms of his chair.

  “So, what? We’re tools in all this?”

  “No,” Stellaris said softly. “You’re the key. The anomaly doesn’t obey conventional Aetherian laws. It operates on frequencies we don’t fully understand. Your connection makes you uniquely equipped to stabilize it.”

  The weight of her words settled over them. Seraphina’s thoughts spun. The map chose you. Why me? Would she ever be ready for this?

  Her mind flickered to Umbra’s words: Do you think your professors tell you everything?

  A tightness gripped her chest. What if they’re hiding something?

  Before she could dwell on it, Alessa spoke, her voice sharp.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Nyxara.” Seraphina blurted the word instinctively.

  The room fell silent. Thorne’s confused gaze met hers. Alessa’s eyes narrowed.

  “How do you know that?”

  Seraphina blinked, realizing what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to reveal anything—not yet.

  Stellaris’s gaze flickered.

  “Yes, that’s where we’re headed. Beyond the safety of the Veil of Aether. Uncharted. Dangerous.” Her tone turned steely. “Our mission is twofold: to investigate the anomaly and determine if it can be stabilized.”

  Thorne leaned back, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

  “Definitely sounds like the perfect getaway.”

  Stellaris met his gaze, a faint smile touching her lips.

  “If only it were,” Stellaris said dryly, her eyes narrowing. “But this is no vacation, Thorne. But you won’t need to face it alone.”

  The room felt heavier with every word. Seraphina glanced at her friends. They seemed resolute, but something unsaid lingered in their eyes. The astrolabe spun on Stellaris’s desk, its rings unwavering, a silent reminder of how little control they had over this situation.

  Stellaris stepped away from the desk, her presence commanding.

  “I’ll leave you to gather your thoughts. We depart tomorrow.”

  The weight of the past few days pressed on her chest, and the echo of Umbra’s words burned in her mind. Could they trust the professors? Could she trust herself in this unknown? She didn’t have answers. But she couldn’t turn back now.

  “It doesn’t add up. None of this makes sense,” she whispered to herself.

  “What do you mean?” Alessa’s voice was steady, but Seraphina could see the sharp gaze. Alessa had always been the one to charge ahead, to act first. Seeing her hesitate now made Seraphina second-guess herself. Am I making this worse?

  Before Seraphina could respond, Thorne spoke up.

  “She’s right,” he said, looking between them both. “This whole thing feels off. We’re supposed to be students, not… whatever this is. We don’t even know what we’re supposed to do yet, and we’re already being pulled into something we can’t even begin to understand.” He sounded frustrated, but there was an edge of worry in his voice that Seraphina wasn’t used to hearing.

  Seraphina swallowed, feeling the uncertainty weigh on her. But then, slowly, something shifted inside her. She had to decide. She could keep questioning, keep doubting… or she could step forward.

  “We don’t have a choice,” she said, her voice more steady now. It was a commitment, and she felt the weight of it. “We have to see this through. Protect the people we care about.”

  She met Thorne’s gaze, then Alessa’s. They didn’t have the answers, but they had each other.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with the academy,” she added, “but whatever’s out there, we can’t just turn our backs on it.”

  For a moment, the room was silent. In that silence, they shared something unspoken—an understanding. They didn’t know what was ahead, but they knew they had to face it together.

  Then, as if to answer her lingering doubts, Lumos stirred within her. A soft pulse of reassurance. You are not alone.

  Seraphina accepted it fully. This wasn’t just about the mission. It was about them—and the choice she had just made. She would step into the unknown, not because she had all the answers, but because this was her path now. She would protect those who stood by her, and in doing so, perhaps she would find the truth.