Morning sunlight slipped through the stained-glass windows of Aetherion's western hall, painting the floor in slow-moving colors. The Academy was unusually calm — no duels, no summons, no missions. For once, life moved at the pace of laughter.
Lyra skipped ahead, balancing two steaming mugs of moonleaf tea.
"Brother, you really should come out more," she said, thrusting one cup into Kaelith's reluctant hand.
He stared at it as if it were a strange artifact. "It's green."
"It's tea," Lyra said, rolling her eyes. "Selene said it helps you not look like a thundercloud all day."
Selene's voice drifted from the balcony above them.
"Did it work?"
She leaned over the railing, hair catching the light. Her violet strands glowed faintly like dusk fire.
Kaelith took a slow sip — if only to avoid answering — and muttered, "Debatable."
Selene laughed, warm and genuine. "Progress. That's a start."
---
The Garden of Small Wonders
Later that day, the three wandered through the Academy's hidden garden — a vast dome of enchanted flora where colors moved like living light. Lyra knelt to touch a flower that changed hue with emotion; it turned sky-blue beneath her fingers.
Selene crouched beside her. "You're calm today."
Lyra nodded. "The Heart feels quieter lately. Like it's… breathing with me instead of through me."
Kaelith stood behind them, watching silently. "Good. Stability means you're adapting."
Selene shot him a teasing glance. "You could try that too, you know."
"I don't adapt," he said.
"Then you'll break," she countered softly — not to provoke, but because she meant it.
He looked at her for a long moment before replying, "Not yet."
Lyra smiled faintly, sensing the weight beneath their words but letting it be. The wind stirred the leaves, whispering through the glowing vines, and for a while none of them spoke.
---
Afternoon Mischief
The calm shattered only when Selene decided the garden was "too quiet."
She flicked her fingers, summoning orbs of soft light that darted between the plants. "Tag," she said, eyes gleaming. "Whoever gets hit by the light has to tell a secret."
Lyra gasped. "No fair, you always win!"
Kaelith groaned. "Childish."
"Scared?" Selene teased.
Before he could reply, one of the orbs zipped straight into his shoulder. It pulsed bright gold.
Selene grinned triumphantly. "Rules are rules."
He stared at her, expression unreadable. "A secret."
"Yes," she said, crossing her arms. "And not a boring one."
Silence stretched. Then, quietly:
"When I was twelve," Kaelith said, "I broke a prototype gate to stop a dimensional rift. It worked. But the explosion destroyed half a district. I never slept again after that."
Lyra's eyes widened. "Brother…"
Selene's teasing faded, replaced by something gentler. "That's not a secret," she said softly. "That's a scar."
He met her gaze — not defensive, not proud, just honest. "Same thing."
No one spoke for a moment. Then Lyra, smiling sadly, tossed one of the orbs at Selene. "Your turn."
Selene caught it midair, the light spilling across her face.
"When I was little," she said, "I broke a mirror in my mother's sanctum. The spell inside it — her memory of my father — scattered. She never remembered him again."
Lyra reached for her hand. Kaelith watched her quietly, something unreadable flickering behind his silver eyes.
For a long time, the only sound was the whisper of wind through flowers.
---
Evening Calm
As the day dimmed, the trio sat beside the lake again. Lyra hummed softly while tracing sigils on the surface of the water, each dissolving into silver sparks.
Selene rested her chin on her knees. "You know," she said, "if the world ends again, I think I'd rather it be like this. Quiet. With friends."
Kaelith didn't respond at first. His gaze was fixed on the reflection of the sky — burning gold and violet.
Finally, he said, "I used to think peace was just a pause between battles. Now I think… maybe it's the battle itself."
Selene smiled. "That's the most poetic thing you've said all week."
Lyra laughed. "He's learning!"
Kaelith shook his head, but there was a rare, soft curve to his mouth — almost a smile.
The lake rippled gently, reflecting three figures framed by light and silence. Above them, the stars began to bloom one by one.