Seraphina stepped into the courtyard, the soft glow of luminescent flora casting a quiet light across the cobblestones. Beneath the towering Luminis Tree, however, a chill lingered, as if the space itself echoed the growing distance between them all. Alessa and Thorne stood waiting, their posture rigid, eyes clouded with unspoken words.

  Part of Seraphina was relieved they had come, but the uneasy silence made her realize how far they still had to go in mending things.

  Alessa offered her a glance—brief, guarded. Thorne remained at the edge, arms crossed, gaze distant.

  “We need to talk,” Seraphina began.

  “About what?” Thorne’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and unforgiving. “How Umbra’s spreading rumors that you almost got us killed on Nyxara?”

  Alessa shot him a sharp look, but Seraphina raised her hand, silencing her.

  “It’s true,” Seraphina said, her tone steady. “Umbra’s stirring things up, and it’s working. The academy’s turning on me—and maybe on you, too. It’s just... chaos right now.”

  Alessa’s frown deepened.

  “Umbra knows how to twist the truth. But what bothers me most is that you didn’t know about Lumos. Why didn’t I tell you sooner?”

  The question hit harder than Seraphina expected. Her chest tightened as guilt washed over her.

  "I... didn't know how," she whispered. "I didn't want you to see me as someone who needed protection. I thought Enterprise Day was going to be different, that I would come into my own. Instead I messed up, while you both did amazing things. I didn’t want Lumos’ power to change things between us."

  Thorne's voice hardened, the bitterness clear.

  “So, you didn’t think we’d understand? You didn’t think we’d support you?”

  Seraphina’s gaze dropped. “No,” she admitted softly. “I thought it would change how you saw me. I didn’t want to push you away.”

  A rough laugh escaped Thorne.

  “And if you already have?”

  The words stung, but Seraphina swallowed the hurt.

  “We’re supposed to be a team,” Alessa’s voice cracked. "Hiding things makes everything harder. We can’t afford more secrets.”

  Seraphina opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Alessa was right. The silence between them stretched until Alessa’s voice broke it, quieter now, more vulnerable.

  "I guess, in the end, it doesn’t matter." She sighed deeply beofre continuing, "I… don’t think I belong here."

  Seraphina’s heart sank, the ground beneath her seeming to shift. Thorne’s gaze snapped to Alessa.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Alessa didn’t meet their eyes.

  “My powers… they’re changing. Caelithor’s been training me, and I don’t know if I belong with… with you.”

  Seraphina’s breath caught.

  “With us?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Thorne's tone sharpened.

  “Because we’re not strong enough?”

  “No!” Alessa’s frustration boiled over. “It’s not about power,” she said, her voice cracking. "It’s something else. Something I don’t know how to explain.”

  The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears.

  “We’re in this together,” Seraphina said, stepping forward, her voice quiet but resolute. “Whatever it is, we deal with it together.”

  Alessa hesitated, her eyes flickering up before quickly looking down.

  “Caelithor... is pulling me toward something bigger than us. And I don’t know if I can be part of this anymore.”

  “Than us?” Thorne’s voice was thick with bitterness.

  “That’s not fair, Thorne,” Alessa snapped, but the anger faded almost instantly. “Do you think I wanted this?”

  The air felt impossibly still, thick with tension. Seraphina reached out, her hands extended, as if to shield them from the weight of their words.

  “Stop,” she said, her voice firm.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “We need to be united. The academy needs us.”

  Thorne scoffed.

  “Fix everything? Everyone thinks we’re the problem. Maybe they’re right.”

  Seraphina’s heart tightened at his words. She shook her head, refusing to believe it.

  "Don’t say that," she whispered. She reached for his arm, but he pulled away, his gaze falling to the ground.

  “I don’t have a destiny. No guardian to guide me,” he muttered. “Just my music, and it’s never enough. There’s the concert, but what’s that going to prove? It’s just another reminder that I’m not enough for you two.”

  His words hit close to home, echoing Seraphina’s own fears. The same doubts she’d buried deep inside.

  “We have to believe in each other,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. "Even if no one else does."

  Before anyone could respond, Caelithor appeared, his presence cutting through the tension. His voice, deep and commanding, rang out.

  “Enough,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your powers falter because your spirits waver. Aetheria demands balance—and balance starts within.”

  But before Seraphina could speak, Lumos’s sharp voice interrupted.

  “Seraphina’s hesitation puts us all at risk.”

  Caelithor’s gaze hardened at the other Guardian.

  “Your impatience doesn’t help. You’re meant to guide her, not bury her under impossible expectations.”

  Lumos flared with a burst of light.

  “And look where that’s gotten your student.”

  Caelithor raised his hand, silencing her with a single gesture.

  “Do not twist this into my failures,” he warned, his voice low. “Guardians are here to foster growth, not perfection. Your expectations will break her, Lumos. And we both know this isn’t the first time your judgment has faltered.”

  Lumos’s light flickered, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

  “Mind your words, Caelithor.”

  “Perhaps it’s time I didn’t,” he retorted. “After all, it’s your choices that have brought us here—not just hers.”

  The tension between the two guardians crackled. Lumos’s light flickered with fury, regret, and something else—uncertainty.

  Seraphina felt the weight of it all pressing down on her, and she couldn’t hold back anymore.

  “What aren't you telling me Lumos?” she demanded, her voice cracking. The words felt like they were tearing her apart. She hadn’t known what to expect from this conversation, but the coldness between them all was worse than she’d imagined. Alessa, leaving them behind to grow stronger. Lumos’ disappointment, a weight she couldn’t escape. It was all too much.

  The air rippled with Aether, and before she could steady herself, Seraphina’s power surged—untamed and raw. A flash of light erupted from her hands, flooding the courtyard in a brilliant burst. Alessa and Thorne recoiled, their faces frozen in the brilliance.

  Seraphina fell to her knees, breath ragged. She’d lost control again.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small. “I didn’t mean to—”

  But Alessa was there in an instant, her hand on Seraphina’s shoulder.

  “We’re scared too,” she said softly, her tone warm, understanding.

  Thorne shook his head, his earlier bitterness gone.

  “I don’t know how we fix this,” he murmured. “But I can’t keep pretending everything’s okay. The concert’s coming up, and it feels like it’s all I have left. Everyone expects something from me… what if I’m not enough? What if my music—my whole identity—just doesn’t measure up?”

  Alessa’s gaze softened.

  “I know how you feel, Thorne. When Caelithor came into my life, I thought it meant I was on the right path. But now... it’s harder than I expected. There’s this pressure to be more than I was before. Like I’m supposed to have all the answers, to be stronger. And what if I can’t? What if I’m not enough for him either?”

  Thorne’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw.

  “You’ve got Caelithor. Seraphina’s got Lumos. But me? I’ve got nothing but my music. And it’s not enough. Not for the academy, not for Aetheria… and not for me.”

  The silence that followed felt softer. Lumos’s voice, once sharp, now a faint whisper.

  “Forgive me,” she murmured to Seraphina. “Perhaps I’ve pushed you too far.”

  Seraphina lifted her head, breath shaky. The cracks between them hadn’t healed, but something had shifted—hope, fragile but real.

  She glanced at Alessa and Thorne, not just seeing their doubts, but their strength. Together, they could face the challenges ahead. They had to.

  “There’s something else,” Seraphina said, her voice firm with the weight of truth. “Magdalene’s pushing us to repeat history—making the same sacrifice that Thalios made. We have to stop it.”

  Thorne’s gaze sharpened. “Alright. What did Stellaris say?”

  Seraphina told them about Thalios’s sacrifice, about Magdalene’s belief that one life could save many.

  Alessa’s hand covered her mouth. “And now Magdalene wants to do it again?”

  Seraphina nodded.

  “But there’s more. The academy is built on a riftwell—a remnant of an ancient rift. That’s why the shadows are growing stronger. We need to get into the Lumina Archives. Thalios’s journal is there. It holds the answers.”

  Thorne raised an eyebrow.

  “Breaking into the archives?”

  Seraphina met his gaze, determination burning in her eyes.

  “We don’t have a choice. Magdalene won’t tell us the truth, and Stellaris only knows part of it.”

  Alessa hesitated, but then nodded.

  “If we can stop the rifts and figure out what Magdalene’s hiding… we have to do this. Together.”

  Thorne grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning.

  “Guess we’re breaking some rules. Give me time, and let’s get in tomorrow night.”

  The following day passed in a blur, but Seraphina knew one thing: together, they had a chance. But first, they had to get into the Lumina Archives. And the truth... had to come out.