Abell sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the recommendation letter in his palm.

  The seal gleamed. Outside, he could hear the festival beginning. Music drifted through the evening air, followed by laughter and the crackle of firecrackers.

  Academia Lucis.

  The words felt heavy but exciting.

  He thought about Genevieve. About the promise he'd made to her, and this could be his opportunity to fulfill.

  But he also thought about his mother's face. The fear in her eyes when she'd seen him at the Millia farm. The way she acted.

  She's going to hate this, I bet.

  The music outside grew louder. Voices called out in celebration. The whole town was gathering to honor him and Hugo for what had happened today.

  Abell closed his fist around the token and stood up. He'd deal with his mother later. For now, he just needed to get through tonight. The festival had transformed the village square into something almost magical

  Lanterns hung from every post and windowsill, swaying gently in the evening breeze and casting pools of warmlight across the cobblestones. Long tables had been set up, groaning under the weight of roasted meat, fresh bread, fruits, and barrels of ale. Music filled the air, someone playing a fiddle, another keeping rhythm on a drum, voices rising in song.

  People were everywhere. Dancing, eating, talking, and celebrating like they hadn't in months.

  Abell kept his head down as he moved through the crowd, trying to avoid eye contact. Every few steps, someone would stop him.

  "Thank you for today, Abell!"

  "We heard you were amazing out there!"

  "Just like your sister!"

  That last one made his jaw tighten. He forced a smile, nodded, and kept moving.

  He spotted his mother near the center of the square, surrounded by villagers offering gifts and gratitude. She handled it with practiced grace, accepting their thanks with warm smiles.

  He turned and headed toward the quieter edge of the festival, where the crowd thinned, and the music was just a pleasant hum in the background.

  "Leaving already?"

  Abell turned to find Astrid standing there, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. Her brown hair was loose tonight instead of tied back, and she'd actually dressed up for the festival, a simple black dress instead of her usual practical clothes.

  "I’m not leaving," Abell said. "Just... going to relax."

  "All the way out here?" She walked over and sat on a low stone wall at the edge of the square. "Please sit with me, Abell."

  Abell hesitated, then joined her. He couldn’t say no to her when she made that face. The stone was cool beneath him, a relief after the warmth of the crowded square.

  Astrid studied him for a moment, then reached into the small bag at her side. "Let me see your arm, please."

  "I'm fine, No need to worry about me."

  "Abell." Her tone left no room for argument.

  He sighed and held out his arm. The shallow cut from the wolf's claws had mostly stopped bleeding, but it still stung.

  Astrid pulled out a clean cloth and a small vial of a green substance. "There, Lumin leaves. Hold still."

  She worked efficiently, cleaning the wound and applying the salve. Her hands were steady, confident. Abell watched her work, feeling oddly guilty.

  "You're getting better at this," he said quietly. “I guess being a medic is your thing.”

  She glanced up, surprised. “Thank you, Abell. I’m glad you noticed. I’ve been working really hard with Ms. Mary at the clinic."

  "Don't let it go to your head," he smirked.

  Astrid smiled slightly and went back to wrapping the bandage. "You know, most people would be enjoying the festival. Being celebrated. But here you are, hiding at the edge like someone's trying to arrest you."

  "I don't care for festivities."

  "I know." She tied off the bandage and sat back. "But you should let yourself have this. What you did today... saving the Millia family... that matters, Abell. People are grateful."

  Weren’t you the one who told me I’d die??

  "I guess," he muttered. "I barely survived. If Hugo hadn't shown up…"

  "But he did. And you chose to stay and fight when you could've run." Her voice was soft but firm. "That's what people remember. Not whether you needed help. Just that you were there when it mattered."

  Abell looked down at his newly bandaged arm, throat tight.

  "Thanks for everything," Astrid continued. "I mean it. I know how much work you've put in over the years to protect this town. You act like you don't care about this place, but..." She smiled. "It shows. We both grew up here. Don't pretend you're not a part of it."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Abell said, shifting uncomfortably.

  Astrid's smile widened. "Ah ha. So that's your weakness. You hate being thanked."

  "I think you hit your head."

  "Sure, whatever you say, Mr. Hero." She stood and brushed off her dress. "Come on. Let's at least get some food before you disappear again."

  Despite himself, Abell felt something loosen in his chest. He stood and followed her back toward the festival, the weight of the token in his pocket feeling just slightly lighter.

  They'd barely made it back to the main square when a small body slammed into Abell at full speed.

  "ABELL!"

  Misha crashed into him with enough force that Abell had to brace himself to stay upright. The seven-year-old bounced back, eyes wide with excitement, practically vibrating with energy.

  "You’re AMAZING!" Misha shouted, not caring that half the festival could probably hear him. "The sword! The Malignant! You just, WHAM! And sliced right through it! And then the big one came and—"

  “Who told you all that? Abell asked.

  “Missy, Mr. Millia's daughter, told me, she said you saved her, and "and you were all like WHOOSH, and it was so cool, and I want to be just like you when I grow up and—"

  "Misha, breathe," Astrid said, trying not to laugh.

  "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, little guy." Abell reached down and ruffled Misha's hair, half to distract him and half to calm him down.

  Misha froze. His mouth opened and then closed. His entire face went red. His brain seemed to shut down completely.

  Astrid covered her mouth. "Oh no, I think you broke him."

  "N-no!" Misha finally sputtered, puffing out his chest. "I just wasn't ready for that! I'm not some kid who gets all excited just because you, I mean."

  "Sure," Astrid said, grinning.

  Misha crossed his arms, clearly trying to regain his dignity. "You're not special or anything. You're just... you're just my rival! That's all!"

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  Abell paused. Something about the way Misha said it, the determination in his voice despite being half Abell's size, made him smile.

  "Well then, as my rival, you should do your best to catch up to me."

  I will! I’ll train every day, and I’ll get super strong—like, really strong—and then I’ll beat you, and then everyone will see, I mean, they’ll have to see, that I’m… I’m the best! Seriously, the strongest in this whole town. You’ll see. Just wait.”

  "Alright, alright." Astrid grabbed her brother's shoulders. "It's past your bedtime. Let's go before you challenge the entire village."

  "But Astrid."

  "No buts. Mom's waiting." She looked at Abell and gave him a small smile. "Thanks. You're a big deal to him, you know?"

  "No, he's not!" Misha protested. "He's just."

  "Your rival. We know." Astrid laughed and started pulling him away. "See you around, Mr. Hero."

  Abell watched them disappear into the crowd, Misha still protesting the whole way. Despite everything weighing on him, he found himself smiling.

  “I guess this town might not be so bad after all.” he thought.

  Before Abell could press further, Keeko's hand landed on his shoulder.

  "We're going home. Now." She said, sternly. But as they walked, more villagers showered Keeko with more gifts.

  “Ugh, Abell. I’ll meet you at home, okay?” She said.

  Abell nodded and moved through the festival, weaving between groups of celebrating villagers.

  He spotted Hugo near one of the food stalls, completely surrounded. Two women had cornered him, and the Luminary looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself despite clearly trying to escape.

  "So, mister," one of the women leaned in, smiling. "Did you work with Lady Keeko?"

  Hugo stretched lazily, that confident grin never leaving his face. "Yeah, you could say that."

  "I thought so!" The other woman's eyes lit up. "That's why you were all friendly with her earlier, right?"

  Her friend gasped dramatically. "Wait, don't tell me. Are you Abell's father? Or…" she lowered her voice "maybe a past lover?"

  Abell stopped in his tracks.

  Hugo spat out his drink. "No. Nothing like that. Just an old teacher."

  "Oh." One of them deflated. "I thought it'd be like one of those Vivi Alsaint novels."

  Her friend rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you're still reading those? Anyway, your eyes are incredible. Are they natural?

  "Yeah, they are." Hugo seemed to recover his composure. "Been like this ever since my Lux awakened."

  The woman blinked, clearly not understanding.

  Hugo stood up, brushing off his shirt. "As fun as this is, I've got someone to talk to." His gaze shifted those star-shaped pupils landed directly on Abell.

  Their eyes met for just a moment. Hugo's expression shifted as he mouthed a question.

  "Did you tell her yet?" he chuckled.

  Abell looked away.

  That guy is really something else, Abell thought.

  He turned and slipped away from the crowd before Hugo could reach him, moving toward the edge of the festival where the lantern light didn't quite reach.

  Abell slipped away from the noise.

  The festival faded behind him as he moved toward the edge of Iridius, past the lanterns and laughter, until the music was nothing more than a distant hum. The hillside beyond the village was quiet, something Abell felt like he needed.

  I don’t get those people; they act like nothing’s wrong while the Maligants are still roaming around... Well whatever.

  He stopped in a patch of open ground and rolled his shoulders.

  Just once, he thought. I need to know.

  The image of the Grade-B Malignant flashed through his mind—the overwhelming presence of destruction and rage.

  His hand clenched.

  How far can I actually go?

  Abell held out his hand.

  He took a deep breath, eyes closed, drawing Luminous energy directly to his palm to awaken his lux.

  The blade tried to form.

  A golden flight appeared, brightening up the hillside.

  His sword flickered into existence for half a second before shuddering violently. The glow sputtered, snapping like a dying flame. Leaving a mark on his palm.

  Abell gritted his teeth and pushed harder.

  "Come on," he muttered.

  The light flared, then exploded outward in a sharp burst that sent him stumbling back. The sword collapsed into nothing, leaving his arm burning and numb.

  He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.

  Again.

  He forced himself up and tried once more.

  The sword responded more slowly this time. Sluggish and uncooperative. His vision blurred as the golden sparks crawled up his forearm, painful and erratic.

  The blade formed halfway, then shattered.

  Pain shot through his arm. His legs gave out, and he hit the ground hard, palms scraping against dirt and stone.

  Abell stayed there, chest heaving, staring at his trembling hand.

  This is it, he realized. This is my limit, isn’t it?

  He laughed under his breath, “IS THIS REALLY IT?" he cursed to himself.

  The weight of it settled over him. Without Hugo, he'd be dead. Without his mother always watching over him, how many times would he have fallen already?

  His hand clenched into the dirt.

  I can't stay like this.

  "Abell," Keeko whispered.

  She stood a few paces away, arms crossed, eyes sharp as ever, She'd seen the disturbed ground. The scorch marks. The way he was breathing.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

  Abell pushed himself to his feet, wincing. "I needed to know."

  "Know what?"

  "How far can I go?" His voice was steady, even if his body wasn't. "And how far I still have to climb."

  “You’re a fool, Abell.”

  The festival music drifted faintly in the distance, but here, in this quiet space, it was just the two of them.

  Finally, she spoke again. "Let's go home."

  Abell nodded, cursing himself, and followed her back down the hillside.

  The walk home was silent.

  Keeko walked slightly ahead, her posture rigid. Abell followed a few steps behind, hands shoved in his pockets. The recommendation letter felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric.

  Behind them, the sounds of the festival slowly faded, music becoming distant and laughter turning into echoes.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Abell's thoughts were just as tangled. The letter. The Academy. Hugo’s words, His mother's fear. Genevieve's shadow hangs over everything.

  I have to tell her. Tonight.

  The thought made his stomach twist.

  They reached their small house on the edge of the village. Keeko stopped at the door, then turned to look at him.

  "Inside," she said quietly. "We need to talk."

  Can we talk out here? He asked.

  He walked around to the side of the cottage where his hammock hung between two wooden posts. He'd made it himself, strung it up years ago. It was his favorite spot in all of Iridius, the place he came when he needed to think, to breathe, to escape.

  Keeko stepped into view, arms crossed. "So, about today and more specifically Hugo…"

  He ran a hand through his hair, stalling.

  "Talk."

  Abell took a deep breath. Dreading her reaction, but he had to talk.

  "Hugo offered me a chance at the Luminary Academy."

  Keeko's expression didn't change for a long moment. Then she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  "Of course he did," she said quietly. "Just when I thought I'd left all that behind." She opened her eyes and looked at him directly. "We'll tell him no first thing tomorrow."

  "I can’t do that."

  The words hung in the air between them like a physical thing.

  Keeko went very still. "What?"

  "I can’t," Abell said sternly, meeting her eyes. "I want to go."

  "Do you even know what you're agreeing to?"

  "No," he admitted. "But I have to try. I want to, I need to get stronger."

  Keeko's expression hardened. "You could barely take down those Malignants today. You're not ready."

  His hands curled into fists. The bandage Astrid had wrapped around his arm felt suddenly tight.

  "Didn't you let Genevieve go?" The words came out sharper than he intended. "She left at a younger age than I did."

  Keeko paused. When she spoke again, her voice was flat and cold.

  "She was better than you. Smarter. Stronger. More focused. I trusted her with more because she was my prodigy, second to none. You..." She trailed off, but the implication hung heavy between them.

  “I’m what?” he asked.

  “You just don’t have the talent she had,” Keeko said harshly.

  The silence stretched on, broken only by distant sounds from the festival and the gentle creak of the hammock swaying in the breeze.

  Finally, Abell met her eyes. His legs felt unsteady, but he forced them to hold.

  "Fine." His voice came out rough with steady tears falling down his face.

  I'll prove it. To you. To everyone. To myself." He looked at her, really looked at her. "I'll be better than you. Better than Genevieve." He took a breath. “I’m sick of being compared and underestimated.”

  He walked toward the house, then stopped at the door. Without turning around, he spoke one last time.

  "That's a promise."

  Then he went inside, leaving Keeko alone in the darkness.

  Keeko stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where her son had been. Her hands were shaking. She pressed them together, trying to force them still, but it didn't work.

  The words she'd said echoed in her mind. She was better than you.

  She'd seen the look on Abell's face when she said it.

  Above her, the moon hung bright and full in the clear night sky. In Eudora, some people treated it as a god. Prayed to it for guidance, for protection, for answers.

  Keeko just stared at it, feeling hollow.

  "I think I messed up," she whispered to the empty air.

  The moon offered no response.