He was supposed to be asleep but no, sleep evaded him_like it running away from something scary.
The halls are quiet, everybody's probably sleeping or doing their business,but it was quiet,very quiet like before the storm
At night, the stars spoke to Lucien Vale.
They didn't speak in words, not exactly. They hummed—low and aching—like a memory he couldn't quite recall. Every time Lucien lay awake beneath the tall arched window of his dormitory room, the same sensation crawled beneath his skin: You don't belong to the silence.
The Moonfall Academy for Arcane Heirs stood on the highest cliff of the northern realm, carved from pale stone and ancient magic. It was a place where gifted students were trained to master elemental forces, summon familiars, and bind spells to blood and breath.
Lucien had none of that.
No flame danced at his fingertips. No shadows obeyed his call. No sigils answered his name.
Yet the stars whispered to him anyway.
"Still awake?"
Lucien turned his head. His roommate, Ashryn Crowe, sat on his bed, silver eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Ashryn was a prodigy—half-shadow mage, rumored heir to a forbidden lineage. Even breathing near him felt dangerous.
"I couldn't sleep," Lucien admitted.
Ashryn smirked. "Let me guess. Stars again?"
Lucien stiffened. "How do you—"
"You always stare at the sky like it owes you something."
Lucien smiled weakly. "Maybe it does."
Ashryn studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Just don't let the professors catch you drifting. They already think you're… unusual."The word is nothing new.
That word followed Lucien everywhere.
Unusual. Unclassified. Unawakened.
Moonfall Academy had accepted him by mistake—or prophecy. No one was sure which.
Lucien rolled onto his side, heart tight. Tomorrow was the Binding Ceremony, where every student would awaken their core magic.
If nothing happened for him tomorrow, he would be expelled.
Or worse—forgotten.
😔
The great ceremonial hall shimmered with enchantment.
Students stood in perfect lines, robes reflecting their magical affinities—crimson for fire, blue for water, gold for light, violet for mind, black for shadow. Lucien stood among them in plain white.
Outcast.
"Lucien Vale," the Headmistress called.
A hush fell.
Lucien stepped forward, palms sweating, heart pounding.
The Binding Crystal hovered above the altar—ancient, translucent, alive. One by one, students touched it and awakened spectacular power.
Lucien reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the crystal, the hall shook.
Gasps erupted.
Light exploded outward—not golden, not white, but starlight. Silver-blue energy spiraled into the ceiling, forming unfamiliar constellations. The crystal cracked.
The Headmistress staggered back. "Impossible…"
Lucien collapsed to his knees, breath stolen from his lungs.
And then—
Someone caught him.
Strong arms. Warm. Steady.
Lucien looked up.
The boy holding him wore gold-trimmed robes. His hair shone like sunlight, eyes bright as dawn. Power radiated from him effortlessly.
Prince Caelum Aureth.
Heir to the Light Throne. The most powerful student in the academy.
"You're alright," Caelum said softly, as if they were alone. "I've got you."
Lucien's heart betrayed him.
The stars screamed.
.....
Lucien woke in the infirmary.
Sunlight spilled across his bed—and across Caelum, seated beside him, fingers loosely entwined with Lucien's sleeve.He was calm, maybe too calm; Feeling an extra weight on his hand he turned his head to see an unexpected person holding his hand.
"You held my hand while I was unconscious?" Lucien blurted.
Caelum blinked, then smiled. "You didn't let go."
Lucien flushed. "I—sorry."
"Don't be." Caelum's voice softened. "What happened today… it's never been recorded."
Lucien swallowed. "Am I in trouble?"
Caelum hesitated. "No. But you are… dangerous."
Lucien's chest tightened.
Caelum continued, "Stellar magic was erased centuries ago. Too powerful. Too connected to fate itself."
Lucien laughed weakly. "That sounds bad."
Caelum leaned closer, lowering his voice. "It sounds like destiny."
Their eyes met.
Something pulled between them—an invisible thread snapping tight.
Outside, the sky darkened.
For the first time in centuries, the stars answered a name.
Lucien Vale.