Cetza

Verdant Vale's highest plateau, pre-dawn.

The world was asleep. Just the way I liked it.

I exhaled, watching my breath curl into the freezing air, vanishing like a forgotten whisper. Above me, the sky stretched wide and endless, the stars burning cold and bright—watching, waiting.

I knelt in the damp grass, fingertips grazing invisible paths across the cosmos. Threads of mana pulsed beneath my skin, weaving into the unseen tapestry of fate, coaxing the whispers of possibility to surface.

"I knelt in the damp grass, fingertips grazing invisible paths across the cosmos. With a slow breath, I let my mana flow outward, not in bursts, but in threads, thin as gossamer strands. They slithered into the unseen fabric of fate, searching—anchoring."

"With every pulse of my mana, the stars responded in kind. A delicate ripple across the vast cosmic tide. Patterns unraveled, constellations shifted, and the weave of time bent just enough for me to see...

Then—a flicker.

A shadowed figure, standing at the edges of time.

A reflection—mine, but not mine. Twisted. Unfamiliar.

And then—nothing.

I stiffened. The connection cut. The stars went silent.

I inhaled slowly. Again.

My fingers traced the air, reigniting the threads of mana. I pushed deeper, letting my senses stretch beyond the veil. The stars pulsed, shifting in an unseen rhythm, a pattern I could almost grasp—

Flicker.

A voice, distorted and distant.

The glint of something sharp.

The weight of something heavy—Yukihana?

The threads snapped—severed by something outside my reach.

I clenched my jaw. "The stars aren't talking."

A voice cut through the stillness, slicing through the cold air like steel.

"You still do this before dawn?"

I didn't jump, but my fingers twitched, breaking the last fragile strands of mana still lingering in the air. The vision fractured completely, fading into nothing.

The world returned. The stars, silent. The wind, biting. The presence behind me—unshakable.

I exhaled slowly.

"It's the only time they'll listen," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Seraphina stepped forward, arms crossed, her gaze sharp but familiar. Unwavering.

"And?"

I let my shoulders relax—not in relief, but resignation. I already knew her next words before she spoke them.

I stayed staring at the sky. "They're ignoring me."

She hummed, unimpressed. "Maybe they know you're an idiot."

I sighed. "Insightful."

A smirk curled at her lips. "Come train with me."

I didn't move. Didn't answer.

A gust of wind swept between us, carrying the faint scent of dew and lingering embers—Seraphina had definitely been training already.

She stepped closer. "You can't run forever, Reg."

I finally looked at her. "I'm not running."

She arched a brow. "No? Then what do you call avoiding the training grounds for the last three days?"

I said nothing.

Seraphina rolled her eyes. "You're getting sluggish."

I huffed, gaze flicking back to the sky. "Not my problem."

She scoffed. "Oh? What happens when you never land a hit?"

A beat of silence. A flicker of something in her eyes—a challenge.

I rubbed my temple. "Seraphina."

"Regulus."

Another gust of wind. I knew that tone.

I knew that smirk.

She was going to fight me right here.

And then she moved.

Fast. Too fast.

A blur of motion—Seraphina's boot dug into the dirt, launching her forward. She closed the distance between us in seconds, arm swinging in a sharp arc, her wooden training sword materializing mid-swing.

I barely had time to shift my footing.

Crack!

I caught the blade with my forearm, pain jolting up my arm as the impact vibrated through my bones. She didn't hold back.

I scowled. "Really?"

Seraphina grinned, stepping back and twirling her sword lazily. "You blocked it. That means you can fight."

I shook out my arm. "That means I can react."

"Close enough."

She lunged again.

Damn it.

This time, I twisted my body, letting the strike glide past before flicking my wrist—a minor gravitational shift. The force pulled her just slightly off-balance, her feet skidding in the dirt.

She caught herself fast. Too fast.

Her eyes glinted. "Oh? You are using magic."

I didn't respond.

She grinned wider.

"Guess that means I can use mine too."

I felt the heat before I saw the glow.

Seraphina's blade ignited. A burst of celestial fire wrapped around the wooden training sword, golden embers flickering off the edges.

I groaned. "You're insufferable."

She lunged.

I pivoted hard, shoving off the ground and bolting.

"Oh no, you don't!"

I barely got three steps before she closed the distance. Fast.

Too fast.

Crap.

A burst of light flared to my left—a feint. I knew better than to fall for it. But the real attack was already coming—from the right.

I had no choice. I braced.

A heavy whoosh—her sword cut through air, not flesh.

Because I wasn't there anymore.

I had let myself fall.

Gravity magic surged beneath my feet, altering my descent. I hit the dirt with a roll, momentum carrying me just beyond her reach. Before she could pivot, I pushed off with another gravitational burst—launching myself away.

I landed in a crouch several feet back, heart hammering.

Seraphina skidded to a stop, her glowing blade still raised.

She stared. Then—

She laughed.

Laughed.

"Oh, that's new," she said, hands on her hips.

I brushed dust off my coat. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Seraphina arched her brow. "Since when do you dodge like that?"

I shrugged. "Since always."

She scoffed, but there was genuine curiosity behind her eyes now. Like she was actually considering my movements.

Not good.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders. "Are we done?"

She smirked. "For now."

I was already turning to leave, planning my escape before she got any more ideas—

Then my skin prickled.

A warning.

An instinct.

Mana shifted in the air behind me.

A second presence.

My body reacted before my mind fully processed it. I pivoted hard, twisting to my left just as—

A bolt of lightning screamed toward me.

I had no time to think.

My hand shot behind me, fingers wrapping around something that wasn't there a moment ago.

Yukihana.

The weight of the two-handed axe-staff settled into my grip like it had always been there, like it had been waiting.

I swung—

CRACK.

The blade of the axe split the lightning in two.

The force sent a sharp vibration up my arm, but I held firm. The severed arcs of magic fizzled out harmlessly into the air.

Silence.

Then—laughter.

"I knew it!"

I exhaled sharply, lowering my weapon. Lyra.

She stood a few paces away, arms crossed, grinning like she had just confirmed some grand theory.

"That was a little much, don't you think?" I said, voice flat.

Lyra shrugged. "Oh, come on. You've been dodging all morning. You can't blame me for wanting to see what you'd actually do when cornered."

I opened my mouth—closed it.

Damn it.

I walked right into that.

Seraphina whistled, eyes flicking from me to Yukihana's shimmering form. "You pulled your weapon against her. Guess that means you really thought she was a threat."

Lyra's grin widened. "You think I'm a threat, Reg?"

I scowled. "I think you're annoying."

I released my grip.

Yukihana vanished into shimmering particles of light, dispersing as though it had never existed.

Lyra let out an exaggerated huff. "Ugh, why do you always do that? Let me hold it at least once!"

"No."

Seraphina chuckled. "You really don't let anyone touch it, huh?"

I rolled my shoulders. "It's mine. That's all that matters."

The way Seraphina and Lyra exchanged glances told me that conversation wasn't over.

I sighed. This day was getting worse by the second. 

Regulus trudged down the dirt path, the weight of Yukihana familiar at his back. He preferred the silence of dawn, but this morning, he had company.

Seraphina walked a step ahead, arms behind her head, her golden eyes darting toward him every so often. Lyra flanked his other side, quiet for now—too quiet.

Reg ignored them both.

Seraphina clicked her tongue. "So, what's the real reason you ran off this morning?"

Reg didn't look at her. "The same reason I always do."

She snorted. "Yeah? And did the stars finally tell you something worthwhile?"

Reg exhaled. "They were silent."

Lyra hummed, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Maybe they know something you don't."

Reg shot her a glance. She met it, unblinking.

Seraphina stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Well, maybe they'll be more talkative after you fight me today."

Reg slowed his steps. "We're still on that?"

Seraphina grinned. "Oh, we're very much still on that."

Lyra smirked. "You could just accept it now and get it over with."

Reg shook his head. "Not happening."

Seraphina sighed dramatically. "You're no fun."

Lyra side-eyed him, amusement in her tone. "You know, the more you refuse, the more it sounds like you're scared."

Reg scoffed. "I'm not scared. I just don't see the point."

Seraphina smirked. "That's what people say when they're scared."

Reg pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remind me why I tolerate either of you?"

Seraphina bumped her shoulder against his. "Because you love us."

Reg rolled his eyes. "Debatable."

Lyra smirked. "You sure? Because if we don't get to fight you, Aidan's definitely going to try."

Reg groaned. Great.

The house came into view just ahead.

Seraphina grinned, picking up the pace. "Come on, Reg. Let's see what the other chaos twin is up to."

Reg sighed and followed. This was going to be a long morning.

The scent of fresh bread and spiced meat filled the air as Regulus stepped through the doorway. He barely had a moment to breathe before something whizzed toward him.

A chunk of bread smacked against his shoulder.

Reg stared at the piece of torn loaf as it tumbled onto the floor. Here we go.

"You two fought him without me?!" Aidan's voice was a mix of outrage and betrayal. He wasn't even looking at Reg—his glare was fixed on Lyra and Seraphina.

Seraphina, halfway into her seat, shrugged. "We were up there, he was there—it just happened."

"No, it didn't just 'happen'!" Aidan shot back. "We made a deal! If Reg ever fought, I'd be there to see it!"

Lyra smirked, tilting her head in exaggerated satisfaction. "Then maybe you should wake up earlier. I made him draw Yukihana."

Aidan froze.

Reg sighed, already reaching for his bread. Here we go.

Aidan slowly turned his head toward Reg. "You drew it?"

Reg didn't look up. "Didn't have a choice."

Aidan let out a dramatic groan, slumping forward. "No, no, no—this is ridiculous. Lyra gets to push you that far before I do?!"

Kaelen, who had barely looked up from his ledger, sighed. "So we're starting the morning with unnecessary yelling."

"Unnecessary?" Aidan scoffed. "This is betrayal. Treason."

Lyra shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Skill."

"You ambushed me." Reg corrected flatly.

Lyra smirked. "Still counts."

Aidan threw up his hands. "This is insane."

Across the table, Rhiannon was watching.

Too closely.

She usually didn't pay me much attention in the mornings, more focused on guild work or listening in on adventurer gossip. But today? She was studying me.

I took another bite of bread, letting the silence stretch before finally asking, "Why are you staring at me like I owe you money?"

Rhiannon tapped her fingers against her cup. "Lyra said she made you draw Yukihana."

Kaelen looked up from his ledger, brows raised. "You actually used it?"

I sighed. "Briefly."

Aidan scoffed, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth before grumbling, "Yeah, because someone decided to start throwing lightning around like a lunatic."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. It was just a little bolt."

Aidan turned his glare on her. "You're lucky he didn't redirect that thing back at your head."

Rhiannon wasn't paying attention to their argument. Her gaze stayed locked on me. "You've dodged worse without using Yukihana. So why this time?"

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "What are you getting at?"

Rhiannon smirked. "I think you wanted to draw it."

Kaelen's brow lifted slightly, finally showing a hint of interest.

I met Rhiannon's gaze, unimpressed. "That's stupid."

She leaned in slightly. "Is it?"

Before I could respond, Eira's voice cut through the table.

"Alright, that's enough."

It wasn't a bark. It wasn't a command. But it didn't need to be.

The entire table settled. Even Aidan, who was mid-argument with Lyra, shut his mouth like he hadn't just been shouting over her a second ago.

Eira Lockehardt wasn't just Aldric's wife. She was the backbone of this family.

She stood at the kitchen counter, pouring herself a cup of tea, not even sparing us a glance. But the presence she carried—the quiet, effortless authority in her voice—was more than enough to stop every single one of us in our tracks.

The real head of this household wasn't Aldric. It was her.

And she was the closest thing I had to a mother.

She finally turned, her emerald gaze piercing straight through Rhiannon with the kind of disappointment that could bring grown men to their knees.

"If you're going to interrogate your brother, at least let him finish eating."

Rhiannon didn't even flinch. Just smiled, resting her chin on one hand. "I just find it interesting."

Mom sighed, shaking her head, but before she could say anything else—

A blur of movement shot across the room.

Mira.

She leapt from her chair, sprinting straight for me.

She was small, but she was fast. Fast enough that I barely had time to set my cup down before she latched onto my arm.

"Reggie!" she chirped, bright-eyed and giggling.

I sighed, adjusting my posture so she wouldn't knock my chair over. "Mira, what are you doing?"

She grinned, gripping my sleeve with both hands. "Saving you."

The table paused.

Kaelen lifted his head from his ledger, an amused brow raised. "Saving him from what, exactly?"

Mira twisted her body just enough to look at them over her shoulder, her face serious in a way only a two-year-old could manage.

"From all of you."

The room cracked.

Aidan let out the loudest, ugliest snort imaginable.

Lyra laughed so hard into her drink she almost choked.

Seraphina straight-up buried her face in her hands.

Kaelen just sighed, and Mom finally pressed a hand against her forehead like she was reconsidering all her life choices.

Mira, entirely unfazed by the laughter, tightened her grip on my arm and turned back to me.

"You're safe now, Reggie."

I let out a long breath, patting her head. "Thanks, Mira. My hero."

She beamed.

Then she tilted her head. "…You're sad today."

The air shifted.

Not enough for most people to notice, but I did. Kaelen noticed, too.

I kept my expression even. "What makes you think that?"

Mira blinked, tilting her head again, the way she always did when she was thinking.

Then, she whispered, "Your stars are quiet."

For a second, no one spoke.

Then Kaelen exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with a small smirk. "That's what happens when you wake up at the crack of dawn to stare at the sky, Mira."

The tension eased instantly.

Mira huffed, dissatisfied with that answer, but she still tucked herself comfortably into my side, content just being there.

Across the table, Rhiannon was still watching.

She didn't say anything, but I knew this conversation wasn't over.

The scrape of a chair broke the moment.

Kaelen shut his ledger and stood. "I need to check the market before my next shipment comes in. I'll be back before noon."

Mom gave a small nod, barely looking up from where she was cutting more fruit for Mira. "Don't let them overcharge you this time."

Kaelen chuckled. "No promises."

As he passed, he ruffled my hair once—quick and subtle, like he hadn't done it at all. I scowled, fixing it immediately.

He did that on purpose.

Lyra snickered into her cup. "Aw, Reg, you're so loved."

I ignored her.

Kaelen had barely made it to the door when it swung open with a solid thud.

Aldric Lockehardt stood at the threshold.

Scarred, broad-shouldered, with golden eyes sharp enough to cut stone. A wall of a man, wrapped in the presence of a seasoned warrior. Even now, retired from the battlefield, his presence filled the room like an unspoken command.

But right now, he wasn't looking at the whole room.

He was looking straight at me.

"You actually fought?"

The noise in the room halted.

Not in shock. They all already knew. But now, Dad was here. And that meant I had to answer for it.

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "It wasn't my idea."

Aidan snorted. "Lyra bragged about making him draw Yukihana."

Dad's brows lifted slightly. He finally looked away from me, landing his gaze on Lyra. "That so?"

Lyra, completely unrepentant, took a long sip of her drink. "Yup."

I gave Aidan a glare. Traitor.

Across the table, Mira bounced on Rhiannon's lap, giggling. "Reggie was strong!"

Mom chuckled. "Didn't take you for the type to fold under pressure."

I sighed. Why was everyone making a big deal out of this?

Dad ran a hand down his face. "You don't fight." It wasn't a question. "I attempt to train you, and you run."

I frowned. "I don't run. I just don't see the point."

Dad's tail flicked once—a brief, sharp motion. His ears twitched, but his voice remained level. "You're a fighter, whether you like it or not. You think knowing the future keeps you safe? It doesn't. The moment you stop moving, you're as good as dead."

I didn't respond.

Because I knew that.

Because he was right.

But I wasn't him. I wasn't Aidan, or Lyra, or Seraphina.

I was me. And I was better at seeing than swinging.

Mira perked up again, tilting her head. Then—she howled.

A tiny, baby howl.

Aidan, of course, made it worse.

His grin split wide before he took in a deep breath and let out a full-fledged howl.

I swore under my breath.

Lyra snorted. "Great. You're teaching her to be a menace."

Mom sighed, rubbing Mira's back. "You're encouraging her, you know."

Dad exhaled sharply. "I don't have the patience for this."

He leveled me with a stare. "Explain. From the beginning."

Kaelen was already excusing himself, standing in front of the door.

"I have trade routes to confirm," he said casually, tucking his ledger under his arm. His golden eyes flicked toward me for a split second—just enough to let me know that, even if he wasn't saying it out loud, he found this entire mess amusing.

Before I could call him out on it, Rhiannon suddenly jolted upright.

"Crap, I'm late!"

She snatched a half-eaten piece of bread off Aidan's plate, earning an outraged squawk, and stuffed it into her mouth mid-stride.

"I told you to get up earlier," Kaelen muttered as she passed him by.

"And I told you to let me live my life." Rhiannon threw back before barreling out the door, probably on her way to the Adventurer's Guild.

I took their distraction as my chance to leave.

Slowly, I pushed my chair back—

"Sit."

Dad's voice stopped me mid-motion.

I sighed. Damn it.

Dad had his arms crossed, his tail flicking once in clear warning. I could already see the lecture forming behind his eyes.

Seraphina, who had been watching quietly, decided to intervene.

"Uncle, it's fine," she said, standing up. "I was there. It wasn't anything serious."

Dad raised a brow. "Was it not?"

Seraphina's tail flicked once, agitation clear. "I wouldn't challenge him if I thought it was an issue. You trained me, remember?"

Aldric exhaled through his nose, a long, measured sigh. His gaze slid to me for a final time before finally relenting. For now.

And then—

"Tch. If you say so, your highness."

Seraphina froze.

The room went still.

For one perfect second, nobody moved.

Then, in a blur of motion, Seraphina's fist connected with Dad's gut.

A resounding CRASH echoed as Dad was sent flying— right through the ceiling.

Splinters rained down.

Everyone stared.

Aidan and Lyra blinked in tandem.

Rhiannon, who had returned for something she forgot, paused mid-step.

Kaelen, already outside, took one glance back at the house—then calmly continued walking, pretending he saw nothing.

Mira, oblivious to all of it, giggled and clapped.

Mom, completely unbothered, sighed softly. "Oh dear."

Seraphina stood there, fists clenched, her entire face burning red.

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

Dad, still airborne, only laughed.

As the dust settled—literally, considering the ceiling still had a gaping hole where Aldric once stood—I took my second chance to leave.

No one stopped me this time.

Seraphina was still fuming, muttering curses under her breath as she stomped toward the back of the house, probably to cool off. Aidan and Lyra were trying to one-up each other in their analysis of the "battle," debating if dad had actually let himself get hit or if Seraphina just had that much strength behind her punch.

Mira, completely unaffected by the chaos, had crawled into mom's lap and was now munching on a leftover pastry.

After slipping out of the house without further incident, I made my way to my usual observation point.

It was a small clearing on the outskirts of town—quiet, secluded, and far enough from the Lockehardt house that no one would bother me.

The sky was still shifting from deep navy to soft hues of dawn, the stars just barely retreating into the light. I had planned to take my time studying them, maybe piece together the remnants of the vision from earlier. Figure out what the stars were hiding.

I should've known I wouldn't get a moment to myself.

Instead, I heard hurried footsteps.

"Reg! Hey!"

I closed my eyes briefly. Kaelen.

Of course.

When I turned, my brother was already approaching, a bag of trade goods slung over his shoulder. His usual composed expression was strained, like he was debating whether or not to ask me something.

"You're headed into town, right?" he asked, adjusting the strap.

I raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

Kaelen exhaled. "Reg."

I sighed. "Fine. What do you need?"

He handed me a sealed letter and a small wooden case.

I stared at them. Then at him.

"...What's in the case?"

Kaelen shrugged, a little too casually. "Like I said, just something for a client."

I narrowed my eyes. "Something. That's reassuring."

His lips quirked upward. "Not my fault you're so paranoid."

I absolutely was.

I weighed the case in my palm. Not particularly heavy. But there was something off about it. My instincts buzzed at the edges of my mind, but I ignored them.

It was Kaelen's job to deal with trade goods. Not mine.

I moved to tuck the case under my arm, but Kaelen's grin suddenly sharpened. Dangerously.

"Oh—before I forget, Mira said something interesting at breakfast."

I froze.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"...Did she?"

Kaelen nodded, enjoying this way too much. "Yeah. Something about you and Seraphina."

I immediately turned away. "Yeah, not listening."

"Something about how you like—"

"Nope. Not listening."

Kaelen laughed, already walking past me. "See you at dinner, lover boy."

I swore under my breath and briskly made my way toward the guild.

The streets were waking up. Market stalls clattered open, merchants called their prices, and the air carried the scent of fresh bread and morning dew.

I kept my pace even. No unnecessary stops. Drop the package, leave.

But, of course, nothing was ever that easy.

"Oi, Regulus!"

I felt my soul leave my body.

I knew that voice.

That voice belonged to a burly adventurer, Garrick the Steelback.His presence alone was enough to make people step aside—partly because of his reputation, mostly because of his sheer size.

Garrick was a veteran, a C-Rank adventurer with A-Rank delusions. Big. Loud. And always too interested in everyone's business.

I debated pretending I didn't hear him.

I slowly turned around, hoping to avoid interacting with him.

Too late. He was already walking toward me.

"Still got your head in the clouds, kid?" Garrick smirked, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to rattle my bones. "What's it this time? An alignment of destiny? The end of the world? Or, oh—" He snapped his fingers. "Another one of your cryptic visions?"

I stared at him.

He grinned wider.

"...I'm delivering a package."

Garrick laughed. "Sure, sure. Just a regular errand, huh? Nothing to do with the fact that our mysterious 'Andromeda' saved another expedition team last week?"

I forced my expression neutral.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Garrick barked a laugh, shaking his head. "Figures. The one damn time an S-Rank actually stays in town and no one can figure out who they are. If you were a betting man, who'd you put money on?"

"No one," I deadpanned.

Garrick cackled. "That's why I like you, kid. No fun, but you're honest."

I exhaled slowly. Almost done.

Just drop off the package. Avoid suspicion. Get home before more nonsense happens.

The moment Garrick opened his mouth again, I knew I had to leave.

I gave him a tight-lipped nod, murmured something about needing to finish my errand, and walked—not ran—toward the guild. Running would only make him suspicious, and he'd never let me live that down.

Still, I felt his amused gaze on my back.

"Try not to predict anything too apocalyptic today, kid!" Garrick called after me.

I resisted the urge to flip him off.

The clatter of tankards, the low hum of bartering, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the space. The guild hall was always louder than it needed to be, a strange mix of casual camaraderie and barely contained violence.

I stepped inside, hands in my coat pockets, keeping my gaze low. The less attention, the better.

"Oi! Move it!"

An armored brute nearly barreled into me, shoving past with a sour stench of sweat and ale clinging to his plate mail. I exhaled, shifting sideways just in time to avoid being shoulder-checked into a nearby table. Standard guild etiquette, I suppose.

"Watch where you're walking, stars-for-brains," the guy sneered before striding toward the quest board.

I didn't respond. Not worth it.

Instead, I adjusted my gloves and glided through the chaos, weaving between adventurers engaged in their usual boasting, gambling, and exaggerated war stories.

One table had a group of C-Rank adventurers swapping tales.

"I swear on my own damn sword, Andromeda saved my entire party single-handedly!" a green-haired swordsman declared, slamming his tankard down for emphasis. "Came outta nowhere, dropped in like some cosmic ghost and wiped the whole goblin horde before they got to us!"

Across from him, a bow-wielding rogue scoffed. "Yeah? Then why does no one ever see the guy at the guild? No reports, no rewards claimed, nothing. Almost like he doesn't exist."

A third adventurer, a heavily scarred axe-user, leaned forward. "You think he's a ghost?"

The rogue rolled her eyes. "I'm saying the story's exaggerated."

I felt Rhiannon's eyes on me before I even reached the counter.

She wasn't doing paperwork. She was watching.

I placed the package down. "Delivery from Kaelen."

She took it too casually.

"You're out early."

I shrugged. "Kaelen asked me to."

She tapped a finger against the counter. Her gaze flicked toward the adventurers still arguing about Andromeda.

"Strange, isn't it?" she mused. "How does no one know what Andromeda looks like?"

I kept my face neutral. "Not really."

"Mm." She drummed her fingers. "You've been out more than usual."

I stayed silent.

"And you always dodge when Aidan asks you to train."

That was a stretch. I always dodged when anyone asked me to train.

"Not saying you are him," she said lightly. "Just that it's funny."

That was her tell. The not accusing, just pointing out. She did this when she smelled a half-truth.

I adjusted my gloves. "Sounds like a coincidence."

She hummed, unconvinced. But she didn't push.

A heavy hand suddenly clapped onto my shoulder.

"Oi, stargazer!"

I stiffened. Garrick.

The burly, scar-faced veteran laughed, squeezing my shoulder like he was testing my bones.

"Didn't think I'd see you here. Finally thinking of joining the adventurers for real?"

I shoved his hand off. "Nope."

Garrick barked a laugh. "Figures. You'd get crushed in an actual fight."

I let it slide.

Rhiannon didn't.

Her casual, playful demeanor vanished. She straightened, hands flat on the counter, eyes sharp.

"You must be mistaken." Her voice was light—too light. "No Lockehardt would get crushed so easily."

Garrick grunted. "Come on, Rhiannon, I didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean what?" She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Didn't mean to say my brother is weak? That's funny." She tilted her head. "Because I could've sworn I just heard you say that."

Garrick shifted uncomfortably. "I just meant—he never fights, yeah? Just stares at the sky."

"Oh, so he's weak because he doesn't flaunt his strength?"

Silence.

Garrick wasn't backing down. "Look, I've fought Kaelen before. Aidan too. Lyra? Even she's taken down full-grown warriors. Regulus? He's different. He doesn't—"

"He doesn't show off."

Rhiannon's voice wasn't loud, but it carried. Heads turned.

Garrick shifted again. He knew what she was doing. The Lockehardts weren't just some adventuring family. They were fighters. Mages. Survivors. Saying one of them was weak was spitting on their entire name.

"He doesn't need to prove himself," she continued. "And just because you haven't seen him fight, doesn't mean he can't."

A tense pause.

Then she smiled. "But you're welcome to test that theory, Garrick."

The guild went silent.

I sighed. This was exactly why I didn't argue.

Garrick's expression darkened at Rhiannon's sharp words. His mouth opened—probably to say something equally stupid—when the guild doors slammed open.

Perfect timing.

I knew who it was before they spoke.

"OI! LOOK WHO IT IS! IT'S BIG BRO REG!"

Aidan. Of course.

I sighed through my nose as a few adventurers groaned. Others—the ones who enjoyed chaos—grinned.

Because everyone knew them.

The Chaos Twins had arrived.

I hunched my shoulders. Maybe if I stayed silent, they'd ignore me.

"Oh, is that REGULUS?" Lyra's voice dripped with mock surprise.

She elbowed Aidan. "Did you know he actually leaves the house?"

Aidan nodded sagely. "I thought he was just a myth."

I considered grabbing Yukihana and swinging.

They marched straight toward me.

I sighed. "Don't."

Aidan clapped my shoulder—too hard.

"What are you doing here, big bro?"

Lyra leaned against the counter, smirking at Rhiannon. "Hey, Rhia, how's our favorite workaholic?"

Rhiannon didn't even look up. "Busy. Don't break anything."

I decided she was the only tolerable sibling I had today.

Everything could have ended there.

I could have left. 

Then some drunk idiot decided to open his mouth.

"Damn Lockehardt mutts are everywhere."

The air shifted.

The twins stopped smiling.

The adventurer—some half-drunk brute at the bar—grinned like he'd made a joke. But I caught the way his eyes flickered toward Rhiannon. Toward Aidan. Toward Lyra.

He knew what he was doing.

I barely had time to react before the pint of ale flew across the room—aimed directly at Rhiannon.

The guild froze.

Instinct took over.

Smack.

My hand snapped up.

I caught the pint without turning.

The silence was immediate.

Mugs hovered mid-air. Conversations died.

The twins turned.

For the first time since they entered—they were quiet.

Aidan's jaw tightened. Lyra's fingers twitched.

Behind the counter, Rhiannon exhaled.

And I—very, very slowly—set the pint down on the counter.

"…That was a mistake."

No one knew who said it. Maybe Aidan. Maybe Lyra. Maybe me.

It didn't matter.

Because the entire guild leaned back as we zeroed in on our next victim.

The air remained thick.

The silence stretched.

Lyra's fingers curled. Aidan cracked his knuckles. The entire guild watched.

I could feel it.

That tension. That expectation.

They thought I wouldn't do anything.

That I'd let it go.

That I'd be the quiet, distant star-gazer who let my family take the insults like they meant nothing.

I set the pint down. Calmly.

Then I lifted my gaze.

"Get those guys."

Aidan and Lyra moved before I finished speaking.

The guild exploded into chaos.

Aidan—predictably—went straight for the thrower. The man barely had time to curse before Aidan tackled him off his stool.

Lyra was faster. Smarter. She didn't waste time.

Crack.

A burst of static filled the air. Someone yelped. Lyra's magic surged—a brilliant blue streak crackling between her fingers.

"Oh?" she cooed. "Looks like I slipped."

The idiot who laughed at the insult earlier flinched.

I let it happen.

I stood exactly where I was, letting my siblings take the moment for themselves.

They'd earned it.

Rhiannon let it go for ten seconds before she slammed a hand on the counter.

"Enough."

Even Aidan stopped. Lyra, too.

They turned to me. Not Rhiannon.

Me.

Because I ordered it.

Because I wasn't silent this time.

I held up a hand. "That's enough."

Aidan scowled. "You sure?"

Lyra flicked her wrist. The remaining sparks fizzled out. She didn't say anything. Just waited.

I met the gaze of the man still on the ground.

He wasn't looking at the twins anymore.

He was looking at me.

And I saw it.

The moment the insult changed in his mind.

From Lockehardt mutts to something else.

My star-shaped pupils reflected in his widening eyes.

He hesitated.

Then—just loud enough for me to hear—he muttered, "Should've known. You ain't one of us either."

The twins didn't hear him.

Rhiannon was already barking orders for the mess to be cleaned.

But I heard him.

I let it sit. Let it sink in.

I didn't react.

I just tilted my head slightly, watching as his expression twisted into something self-satisfied.

Then—just as quietly—I said, "Try that again."

His face paled.

I didn't need to say more.

I turned to Aidan and Lyra.

"We're leaving."

They didn't argue.

We walked out.

And for the first time that day— the guild didn't watch the twins.

They watched me.

The clash of steel and the crackle of magic filled the air.

The twins were at it again.

Aidan's sword carved through the space between them, each swing carrying the weight of his frustration. Lyra's barriers pulsed, shifting like glass catching the light, deflecting his strikes with minimal effort.

They weren't sparring.

They were angry.

Each swing. Each spell. It wasn't about winning.

It was about the guild. About the words they couldn't throw back.

I sat under the tree, watching.

"You Lockehardt mutts think you belong here? Hell, even the human one ain't human."

"Stop dodging!" Aidan's voice carried, sharp with irritation.

His sword swung in a brutal downward arc, but Lyra was already shifting to the side.

"You're so slow," she taunted, sparks of lightning flickering at her fingertips.

She was provoking him.

Aidan's stance shifted—lower, angrier. His teeth bared.

He wasn't just fighting Lyra anymore.

He was fighting them.

The ones who called him a mutt.

The ones who said he was lesser.

The ones who would never see him as enough.

His blade came down—

Fast, brutal, unrelenting—

Lyra barely managed to redirect the blow with a last-minute barrier. It cracked under the force of it.

She scowled. "What's wrong with you?"

Aidan didn't answer.

Lyra's scowl deepened. "They weren't talking about us, Aidan. They were talking about Reg."

Aidan stiffened.

Lyra's voice lowered, but there was venom in it. "They called him a mutt. Said he wasn't even human."

Aidan's jaw clenched.

I exhaled, feeling the weight of it all settle in my chest.

I was human.

I had always been.

But to them—

To the ones who saw my star-shaped pupils and called me 'other'—

I never would be.

It was always there. The lingering stares. The whispered words.

I exhaled, trying to let the weight of it sink into the ground beneath me.

But it didn't. It never did.

Aidan gripped his sword tighter.

Lyra's magic flared at her fingertips, the air humming with electricity.

She wasn't angry at me. She was angry for me.

Because she, too, had lived with that prejudice her whole life.

Because even though I wasn't a demi-human, they still treated me like one.

And Lyra hated that.

Aidan did too.

That was the real fight.

Not this sparring match.

Not who was stronger.

But who they were allowed to be in this world.

Aidan charged.

His sword glowed hot from his mana, swinging with everything he had.

Lyra lifted her hand, lightning crackling between her fingers.

This was going to end badly.

Then—

A hand caught Aidan's sword mid-swing.

A barrier snapped into place, swallowing Lyra's spell before it could detonate.

The impact sent a gust of wind across the field.

Aidan staggered back. Lyra's magic flickered out.

And then—

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THREE DO?"

Dad's presence alone was suffocating.

The twins stood frozen.

I sighed.

His golden eyes burned.

"You think I wouldn't hear about the mess you made at the guild?"

His gaze flickered to me.

"And you. Sitting under a damn tree while your siblings fought?"

I met his stare. "I wasn't in the fight."

"You were there. That's enough."

Aidan spoke first. "They threw ale at Rhia."

Lyra crossed her arms. "We didn't start it."

Aldric narrowed his eyes. "But you sure as hell finished it."

Silence.

I watched as Dad's anger simmered—

Then twisted into something else.

Something proud.

He exhaled through his nose. "You protected your sister."

His lips curled slightly.

"Good."

Aidan and Lyra blinked.

I raised a brow. "That's it?"

Dad huffed. "What, you want me to punish you for doing the right thing?"

He turned, rubbing his temple.

"Damn kids."

The twins exchanged a look.

Aidan grinned. "Guess that means we won't get scolded."

Lyra snorted. "Don't push it."

I… just watched them.

The warmth of family was still there.

Even after the world kept trying to remind us that we didn't belong.

(Reg watches as Aldric pulls his twins close, whispering something too low for him to hear. A warmth blooms in their family embrace—one he doesn't move to join.)

"You're frowning again."

A voice as soft as moonlight—Mom.

I stiffened. I hadn't even noticed her approach.

Eira moved with a quiet grace, Mira perched on her hip, her tiny fingers curling into the fabric of her mother's robes.

I should have known she'd come. She always did.

Mira blinked up at me with wide golden eyes, her small arms stretching outward. "Reggie sad?"

I froze.

She was too smart for her age.

I forced a small, tired smile. "I'm fine."

Mira didn't believe me.

Neither did Mom.

Mom sighed and brushed a stray lock of my hair back into place, her fingers cool and comforting against my temple. "You think too much."

I huffed. "I think just enough."

She smiled knowingly. "Then why do you always look like you carry the weight of the stars?"

I didn't have an answer for that.

Mom's smile didn't waver, but her eyes softened with something that made my chest tighten. Understanding.

I swallowed. Too much. She understood too much.

Mira had ventured from moms hips and had her arms outstretched toward me. Her little fingers opening and closing, waiting.

I sighed, giving in. I reached forward, and the moment my hands wrapped around her small frame, she latched onto me, burying her face into my chest. She was so tiny, so warm.

"You should talk to your father."

I stiffened at mom's words.

"About what?" I asked flatly, already dreading the answer.

Mom tilted her head, watching me too carefully. "About today. About everything."

I exhaled through my nose, looking away.

"No point," I muttered.

There was a point. But talking about it? Explaining how I felt? That was different.

Mom hummed, shifting Mira slightly on my hip. "You're more like him than you think."

I scoffed. Doubtful.

Eira smiled knowingly. She always knew things. Like a scryer in her own right, reading through the pieces of me I didn't even fully understand.

"She's a part of you too, you know," she murmured. She reached toward nothingness—and grazed something invisible just behind me.

I went rigid.

Even unseen, untouched, my weapon recognized her.

Mom withdrew her hand, as if she hadn't just pulled a hidden string in my thoughts.

A moment passed.

Then she gently nudged my arm. "Come inside, stargazer. You'll catch a cold."

I hesitated. Then, slowly, I turned, walking with her back toward the house—toward warmth, family, and a moment's rest.

Mira sighed happily against my shoulder, already drifting into sleep.

The fire crackled softly, its flickering light casting long shadows against the wooden walls. The warmth seeped into my skin, but it did little to thaw the weight settling in my chest.

Mira had fallen asleep in my arms not long ago, her tiny fingers curled around the fabric of my sleeve. Her breathing was steady, peaceful. At least someone in this house could rest easy.

From upstairs, muffled voices carried down—the twins.

Aidan was still bragging, his voice full of that signature cocky energy. "You should've seen it, Ly! That drunk bastard looked like he saw the gods themselves when I stepped up."

Lyra scoffed. "Because he was drunk, idiot."

Aidan huffed. "Still counts."

She clicked her tongue. "Tch. Whatever. Reg was the one who shut them up."

I rolled my eyes, staring at the fire. I hadn't even done anything.

Aldric had barely scolded them. The most they got was a reminder to keep their heads level, even when defending family. The old man had even looked proud, muttering something about 'Lockehardts standing their ground.' If anything, they left the conversation more energized than before.

Across from me, Mom was watching. Waiting.

"You're thinking too hard," she finally said, voice low but certain.

I scoffed, adjusting Mira slightly against my chest. "Is that your expert diagnosis ma?"

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I don't need magic to know when something's eating at you."

I kept my gaze on the fire. Should've known she'd notice. She always did.

"I'm fine," I murmured.

She hummed, the kind of sound that made it clear she didn't believe me. "You're never fine when you say you are."

I clenched my jaw.

Mom's gaze was patient, unwavering. She shifted slightly, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair. "It's about what that man said at the guild, isn't it?"

My grip on Mira tightened.

I should've known she'd heard.

"I've heard it before," I muttered.

"And yet, it still lingers," she mused, studying me with that same careful attention.

I exhaled slowly.

"It doesn't matter," I said.

"It does."

I looked at her then, really looked at her.

She met my stare with that steady, quiet certainty. The kind that made it clear she wasn't trying to argue—just stating a fact.

I broke away first, staring back into the fire.

"...It's not the first time someone's assumed I was demi-human," I admitted. "Won't be the last."

"No, it won't," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

I tensed.

Mom let the silence settle for a moment before continuing, softer now. "You grew up in a demi-human household. You trained alongside demi-humans. You eat at our table, laugh with our family. Why would they ever assume you were anything else?"

I said nothing.

She sighed, shifting forward slightly. "Does it bother you? That people mistake you for something you're not?"

I thought about it.

The answer was more complicated than a simple yes or no.

Did it bother me? That I wasn't 'human enough' for other humans? That I didn't quite belong, no matter where I stood?

I closed my eyes for a brief second. "It doesn't bother me," I finally said. "But it pisses me off when they act like it's an insult."

Mom smiled faintly. "Good."

I frowned. "Good?"

She leaned back, stretching slightly. "Means you care."

I let out a short breath, shaking my head. "That's a stretch."

"Is it?"

I didn't answer.

She stood, her movements careful as she leaned down, scooping Mira from my arms. The little one barely stirred, nestling against mom with a quiet mumble.

She adjusted Mira's weight with practiced ease, but before she stepped away, her hand ruffled through my hair.

I scowled. "Seriously?"

She smirked. "You were brooding too much. Had to fix it."

I huffed, rolling my eyes.

She made it halfway up the stairs before stopping. "Get some sleep, Regulus," she called over her shoulder.

I didn't respond, just listened to her steps fade into the upper floor.

The fire crackled low, barely more than embers now.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face. The warmth of Mira's weight still lingered against my arms.

I already knew I wasn't going to sleep tonight.

The house had finally settled.

Mira had long since dozed off, curled up in her crib. The twins had stopped bickering—Aidan declaring himself victorious, Lyra planning her revenge come sunrise. Rhiannon had locked her door with a muttered "Idiots." Aldric and Eira had retired, their low murmurs fading behind the bedroom door.

And yet, I remained awake in the night.

I sat at the edge of my bed, my mind racing with the events that happened today. The night breeze filtered through the open window, rustling the curtains and carrying the scent of damp earth.

It was quiet. Still. Perfect.

I reached forward, fingers parting the air, and let my mana flow.

Thin strands of cosmic energy unraveled from my fingertips, drifting toward the sky like threads of silver mist. I breathed slowly, syncing my pulse with the stars above. I wasn't asking for much—just tomorrow.

A simple thread, a glimpse of what lay ahead.

The celestial weave shifted in response, adjusting, unfolding.

A flash of the morning sun cresting the Verdant Vale.

The familiar weight of a package in my hands.

Kaelen's silhouette at the doorway, his arms crossed, unreadable.

Aidan and Lyra's voices clashing—a heated argument.

Mira giggling, climbing onto my shoulders.

Seraphina standing beside me, her brow furrowed.

A gust of wind—stronger than it should be.

A shadowed figure at the edge of my vision.

And then—

A shrouded presence.

Watching. Waiting.

The vision shattered.

I exhaled sharply, blinking against the sudden void. My mana strands fizzled into nothing, the celestial threads snapping back into silence.

I sat there, heart pounding.

The stars had spoken, but they weren't clear.

Tomorrow, I'd face it.

And this time, I'd be ready.