Chapter 24
The morning air of Sanctum Astrae was sharp, fresh with dew, and thick with anticipation. Word had spread fast. Cassian Valemar, noble of the Radiant Flame and descendant of a line known for its ruthless dueling tradition, had challenged a commoner from Dorm D.
Not just any commoner.
Astern.
Students crowded the coliseum early, voices rising like smoke. Wagers were made. Speculation abounded. Some whispered it would be a massacre—others suspected the mysterious boy from the slums might have more to him than soft eyes and quiet steps.
Kaela sat high in the stands, arms crossed.
"He better not hold back," she muttered. "I hate it when he holds back."
Lunaria sat beside her, silent, observing the runes igniting along the arena's rim. "He won't."
---
The platform was floating—an open disc of enchanted stone drifting over a mirrored pool. Only two could stand upon it. Only one would leave with their pride intact.
Cassian arrived first, surrounded by retainers. His uniform was pristine, aura like white flame. He drew his rapier with one elegant flourish. "I'll make it quick," he said without venom. "You've earned a painless fall."
Astern stepped into the arena calmly, dark coat flowing lightly behind him. He carried no sword.
"Begin," announced Seraphon, seated high above in the judge's box.
The duel began.
---
Cassian struck first—a slash of condensed heat, a burst of pressure and light. Astern dodged, barely. His feet slid against the stone.
Another strike. Another.
Cassian was not playing.
His aura roared with precision and inheritance, a flame forged by generations.
Astern moved like a breeze—dodging, absorbing, watching.
Then he exhaled.
A pulse of shadow rippled out.
Cassian hesitated. "What…?"
Behind Astern, wings unfolded—not fully formed, not angelic in the classic sense. They shimmered between light and dark. And his eyes, for a moment, glinted with something other.
A tether coiled around his wrist. And his aura exploded.
Cassian's flame struck again—this time met with a wave of balanced energy: not light, not darkness. Something in between.
Their blows collided. Again. And again.
Then Astern vanished.
The crowd gasped.
He appeared behind Cassian—calm, quiet.
"I've seen your flame," Astern said softly.
And with a single tap of aura, he sent Cassian tumbling backward, blade flying from his grasp.
Cassian hit the edge of the platform, dazed, eyes wide.
The duel was over.
Silence held the stadium.
Until Seraphon stood.
"Victory: Astern of Dorm D."
The crowd erupted.
Kaela let out a whoop loud enough to shake marble.
Lunaria only whispered, "Now… they'll never stop watching."
---
After the match, Cassian approached Astern in the preparation hall.
He extended a hand.
"You fight like someone who's not afraid of losing anything," he said. "That's rare."
Astern shook it. "I've already lost too much to be afraid."
Cassian gave a slow nod. "If you ever need a blade at your back, call on me. Noble or not."
---
That night, in the dorms, Astern sat alone at his desk.
He unsealed Ezeriel's scroll—but didn't activate it.
Instead, he etched his own sigil on the window frame with a fingertip of aura. One he'd never seen before.
A symbol that pulsed with two tones.
Like a bridge.
Like a beginning.