Aster woke up with a sharp pain in his temples.
The air in the isolation chamber felt heavy and oppressive, like the air after a massive thunderstorm. His body was weak, some of his muscles stiff as if he had spent the whole night withstanding an overwhelming surge of magic. He stared at the dome ceiling, where faint cracks still shimmered silver—remnants of the resonance explosion earlier.
"He did it again," he murmured softly.
The light from the magic window reflected his silhouette sitting on the medical bed. The wounds on his wrists hadn't fully healed, but that wasn't what hurt the most.
The deepest part of him felt like it was being forcibly pulled—as if something was trying to escape from his heart.
And he knew exactly who was responsible.
Erian Thalos.
The resonance between them wasn't something that could be explained by ordinary magic theory. He had studied it for weeks, trying to separate logic from emotion, but tonight everything had changed.
The ritual that was supposed to be the final boundary had instead created a new bridge between them.
Aster closed his eyes, calming himself, but the pulse in his chest wouldn't stop.
Every time he tried to ignore the feeling, Erian's breath seemed to slip into his mind—gentle, fragile, but real.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Enter," he said without turning his head.
A man in his forties stepped in, wearing a black robe with a golden sun emblem on his chest—the symbol of the Solarius Council, the highest authority in the kingdom's magic oversight.
His face was calm but calculating.
"Your Highness Crown Prince Aster," he said in a flat voice. "We need an explanation regarding the energy disturbance that occurred last night. The isolation dome shouldn't collapse without direct intervention."
Aster looked at him calmly. "Are you accusing me of a violation?"
"Not accusing," the man replied quickly, "just wanting to ensure that Your Highness isn't trying to... connect with a subject who is under high-level observation."
Aster took a long breath. "Subject?"
His tone dropped, cold. "You're referring to him like an object, when he's a human being."
The man didn't react. "The Council's orders are clear. Erian Thalos is an individual with unstable star magic potential. If he tries to exceed his limits without permission, the consequences could destroy half the capital."
"And if he's not alone?" Aster asked softly.
The man looked at him suspiciously. "What does Your Highness mean?"
Aster stood up, his steps calm but full of pressure. The light in the room responded to his emotions, trembling faintly in the air.
"If the resonance isn't just a result of his actions, but an effect of a connection created by the empire itself, then who should really be blamed?"
"Your Highness, be careful with your words."
"I'm always careful," he said flatly.
"But this time, perhaps I will stop being careful."
A long silence enveloped the room.
The man finally bowed slightly, then said, "We will report this incident to the Council. For the time being, you are prohibited from any contact with Subject Thalos, either through magic or direct meetings."
"If I refuse?"
"Political detention," the man replied coldly. "Even royal blood isn't immune to the laws of magic."
After the man left, Aster sat back down on the edge of the bed. His gaze was empty on the floor.
The ban might only be a formality, but he knew one thing: their resonance couldn't be stopped by any order.
He opened his palm. Thin lines of silver light pulsed there—traces of his connection with Erian.
Every time that pulse appeared, he knew Erian was still alive.
"Why do you always choose the most dangerous path..." he murmured.
He looked out the window. The night sky stretched out wide, adorned with clusters of stars that twinkled softly. One of them, the brightest of all, trembled faintly as if signaling something.
Erian must still be there, under the same sky.
And for the first time, Aster felt that this world was too small to contain the distance between them.
At the end of the room, the magic tracking crystal began to vibrate—a sign that energy in the eastern area of the academy was surging.
He stood up quickly.
Only one person could cause that reaction.
"Erian," he hissed.
Without thinking, he summoned his magic sword. A silver aura flowed along the blade like a stream of light.
If the Council wanted to stop him, so be it.
This time, he wouldn't wait for anyone's orders.
He would find him himself.
Aster ran down the stairs towards the academy's basement. Each step echoed with a sharp metallic sound against the stone walls. The magic alarm buzzed faintly, indicating that the academy's security system was active.
The air down there was damp and dusty, mixed with the scent of charcoal and burnt crystals. The light from the magic orbs flickered unstably, as if trying to survive between life and destruction.
When Aster passed through the last gate, a strong chill surged forth, accompanied by a silver light that pulsed like a giant heart in the darkness.
He knew the source.
Erian lay in the middle of a broken ritual circle, his body surrounded by cracked rune lines. His hair was disheveled, some of it sticking to skin that was wet with sweat and blood. But the most striking thing was the soft light in his chest—a pattern of stars that rotated slowly, as if alive.
Aster approached with cautious steps.
"Erian..." his voice was almost inaudible.
There was no answer, only a weak breath that was almost masked by the sound of crackling magic.
He knelt beside him, touching Erian's cheek. His skin was hot, but beneath the surface he felt a gentle vibration, just like the beat in his own chest.
The connection was real, strong, and increasingly penetrating the boundaries of their bodies.
Star magic shouldn't act like this. It wasn't ordinary magic; it was the oldest form of energy in the universe, something that only appeared when two spirits recognized each other at the deepest level.
But how was it possible?
They weren't two souls born to be together, the world didn't allow such relationships. But before him now, the laws of nature seemed to bow down to one thing—their desire to stay connected.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in the air.
"Aster Caelum."
The voice was heavy, firm, and came from behind a metal door at the end of the room. An old man in a black and gold robe emerged from the shadows—High Priest Orion, the highest observer of star power.
"Release him," he ordered.
Aster stood up slowly, his gaze sharpening. "He'll die if I release him."
"And if you continue to touch him, you will destroy the balance of this world," Orion replied without hesitation.
"This world?" Aster looked at him, cynical. "A world that rejects someone just because their destiny is different? A world that imprisons anyone who dares to love beyond the defined boundaries?"
Orion didn't answer, but his gaze hardened.
"Your energy has penetrated the first dimensional layer. If this continues, your resonance will draw entire stars into its orbit. You know what that means, Prince."
"Yes," Aster replied softly, "it means we can no longer be separated."
He knelt back down beside Erian, cupping the young man's hand gently.
"Can you hear me, Erian? I'm here."
Erian's body moved slightly, his lips trembled, but his eyes remained tightly closed.
"A...ster..."
Just one word, almost like a sigh, but enough to make Aster's world stop spinning.
The magic around them pulsed once, twice, then broke in an explosion of silver light that spread throughout the room. The broken runes began to merge, forming a new pattern on the floor.
Orion tried to protect himself, but even his spells couldn't withstand the force.
When the light subsided, Aster and Erian were in the middle of a new circle—a symbol of twin stars, glowing softly in gold and silver.
Aster hugged him tightly, not caring that his own blood was dripping from his nose. He felt Erian's breathing begin to stabilize, their hearts beating in unison.
The connection could no longer be broken.
"He's bound to you completely now," Orion said finally, his voice faint and heavy. "Now you share one source of magic. If one of you dies, the other will vanish as well."
Aster looked at him, without the slightest hesitation. "Then I'll make sure we both live."
The High Priest took a long breath. "You don't understand, Prince. The Solarius Council won't allow this. They will come, and when that time comes, there will be no place in this world that is safe for you."
Aster stood up, looking straight at him. The light in his eyes was no longer just cold, but fiery.
"Let them come."
He gripped Erian's hand tighter.
"This time, I won't give up anything."
The sound of footsteps and alarms began to be heard from above—the royal troops were coming.
Aster knew their time was running out. He summoned his sword, then looked at Orion for the last time.
"If you still believe in the stars, then please... don't tell them where we went."
Orion looked at him for a long time, then slowly bowed his head.
"Go, before I change my mind."
Aster lifted Erian's body into his arms. A silver and blue aura wrapped around them both, forming a flash of light before disappearing into the shadows of a portal that opened on the floor.
When the room returned to silence, Orion stood alone amidst the remnants of energy that still shimmered.
He stared at the double star symbol on the floor, then whispered, "You have chosen a path that even the gods are reluctant to tread. May the stars truly protect you."