Celeste's POV
"You're lying."
The words burst out of me before I could stop them. I stared at Orion across the chamber, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
He couldn't be connected to the same dark power as Cassius. He couldn't be the thing hunting me. It didn't make sense.
"I wish I was lying." Orion's voice was flat, emotionless—the cold commander returning. "But tomorrow's trial will prove I'm telling the truth. And when it does, we're both dead."
"No." I shook my head, refusing to accept it. "There has to be another way. We can run, we can hide, we can—"
"There's nowhere to run." He turned away from me, his shoulders rigid. "The Moon Goddess sees everything in both realms. The Celestial Court has agents everywhere. And Cassius will never stop hunting us." He laughed bitterly. "We're trapped, Celeste. The moment that soul-bond formed, we were both sentenced to death."
Through the bond, I felt his emotions—despair so deep it made me want to cry, rage at himself, and underneath it all, guilt. Crushing, overwhelming guilt.
"This is why you didn't want the bond," I said quietly. "Not because you're afraid of emotions. Because you knew what you were."
"I've known for three hundred years." His hands clenched into fists. "That's why I made the pact. Why I traded my humanity for the power to be the perfect weapon. Because if I felt nothing, cared about nothing, I couldn't be corrupted. I couldn't become like my father."
"What happened to your father?"
Orion was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "He became obsessed with power. With protecting our kingdom from threats. So he performed a forbidden ritual, trying to bind celestial energy to himself." He finally turned to face me, and his silver eyes were filled with pain. "But the ritual went wrong. Instead of pure celestial power, he channeled void energy—the same corrupted starlight that Cassius uses. It drove him mad. He destroyed our entire kingdom trying to 'save' it."
My chest tightened. "And you inherited that power."
"Every drop of it." He held up his hand, and for just a moment, I saw dark shadows flickering beneath his skin before he forced them down. "The pact suppresses it. Keeps it locked away where it can't hurt anyone. But the bond with you is breaking that suppression. I can feel it cracking, piece by piece. The emotions you make me feel are weakening the walls I built."
"So you're saying loving me will turn you into a monster?" The words came out angrier than I intended.
"I'm not—" He stopped, his jaw working. "I don't love you. We just met."
But through the bond, I felt his lie. He might not love me yet, but he was starting to care. And that terrified him more than any enemy.
"You saved me," I said, moving closer despite his rigid posture. "Multiple times. You defied the Celestial Court for me. You stood between me and Cassius. If you're really this dangerous corrupted being, why would you do that?"
"Because the bond makes me irrational!" His control finally cracked, emotion flooding his voice. "Don't you understand? Everything I'm doing goes against three hundred years of training, of discipline, of being the perfect soldier. The bond is making me weak. Making me feel. And if I keep feeling, the darkness inside me will break free."
"Or maybe," I said softly, "the bond is making you human again."
He stared at me like I'd slapped him.
"You spent three centuries as a weapon," I continued. "No emotions, no connections, nothing but duty. But that's not living, Orion. That's just... existing. Maybe the bond didn't destroy you. Maybe it saved you."
"By sentencing us both to death?" He shook his head. "Some salvation."
"We don't know we'll die tomorrow. The trial tests for truth and honesty, right? So we tell the truth. We face it together."
"You don't understand what you're asking." His voice turned desperate. "When the trial reveals what I am, the Moon Goddess won't just execute me. She'll erase me from existence. Wipe away every trace that I ever lived. And because of the soul-bond, you'll be erased too. It'll be like we never existed at all."
The horror of that hit me. Not just death, but complete erasure. No afterlife, no memory, nothing.
"Then we have tonight," I said, surprised by my own calmness. "One night before we potentially stop existing. What do you want to do with it?"
He looked at me in shock. "What do I—you're not afraid?"
"I'm terrified." My voice shook despite my attempt to sound brave. "But I've spent my whole life being afraid. Afraid of Stepmother, afraid of never being good enough, afraid of being invisible forever. And you know what? Fear never protected me. It just made me small."
I took another step closer, and this time he didn't back away.
"If we're going to die tomorrow anyway," I said, "I don't want to spend our last night being afraid. I want to know you. The real you, not the frozen commander or the corrupted weapon. Just... Orion."
Something in his expression cracked. "I don't remember how to be just Orion."
"Then let me help you remember."
For a moment, I thought he might actually let his walls down. Through the bond, I felt his longing, his desperate need for connection after centuries of isolation.
Then his face hardened again. "No. I won't drag you deeper into my darkness. You deserve better than that."
"I deserve to make my own choices," I shot back. "And I choose to face tomorrow with you, whatever happens."
Before he could argue further, a bell tolled—deep and resonant, making the entire chamber vibrate.
Orion's face went pale. "That's the dawn bell. The trials are beginning."
"Already? But you said dawn—"
"Time moves differently here. We've been talking for hours." He moved toward the door. "We need to go to the trial grounds now, or they'll consider it a forfeit. Which means immediate execution."
My stomach dropped. "I'm not ready. I don't know what to expect, how to prepare—"
"There is no preparing for the Trial of Truth." He opened the door, and I saw Nyx waiting in the hallway, her expression grim. "You either face your truths or you die. Those are the only options."
Nyx escorted us through winding corridors, other celestial beings stopping to stare as we passed. Their whispers followed us like ghosts.
"That's the girl who bonded with the Commander..."
"I heard she's a Starweaver..."
"They won't survive the first trial..."
"Ignore them," Nyx said quietly. "Focus on each other. That's the only way you'll make it through."
We entered a massive amphitheater carved from crystal. Thousands of celestial beings filled the seats, all here to watch us either succeed or die.
In the center of the arena stood a single platform surrounded by seven glowing pillars—one for each trial.
The Moon Goddess appeared above us, her voice echoing across the entire space. "Celeste Ashford, Orion Silvanus, you stand accused of forming a forbidden soul-bond. You have chosen to face the Trials of the Celestial Crown to prove your worthiness. Do you understand that failure means not death, but erasure from existence itself?"
"We understand," I said, my voice somehow steady.
"Then let the Trial of Truth begin."
The first pillar blazed with white light, and suddenly Orion and I were standing on the platform, facing each other with nothing between us but empty air.
"The rules are simple," the Goddess announced. "You must each speak three truths. Truths you've never said aloud. Truths that frighten you. Truths that could destroy you. If you lie, or refuse to speak, or speak a truth that isn't deep enough..." She paused. "The trial will tear your souls apart."
Through the bond, I felt Orion's terror spike.
"I'll go first," I said quickly. Maybe if I started, it would be easier for him.
"Very well," the Goddess said. "Speak your first truth, Celeste Ashford."
I took a deep breath. "The truth is... I wanted revenge. When I made that wish at the ruins, I didn't just want power. I wanted to hurt everyone who hurt me. I wanted them to suffer like I suffered. Part of me still wants that."
The pillar pulsed, accepting my truth.
"Your turn, Commander," the Goddess said.
Orion stood rigid, fighting against the words. Finally, they broke free: "The truth is... I wanted to die. For three hundred years, I've been searching for an enemy strong enough to kill me. Because I was too much of a coward to do it myself. And when I saw Celeste being attacked by the Void Hunters, for just a moment, I thought about letting them kill us both. To finally end it."
Shock rippled through me, but the pillar accepted his truth.
"Second truth, Celeste," the Goddess commanded.
Harder now. Deeper. I closed my eyes. "The truth is... I'm glad Dorian rejected me. Because if he hadn't, I never would have discovered what I really am. I would have spent my whole life being small and powerless and grateful for scraps of affection. His betrayal was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I hate that it's true."
The pillar blazed brighter.
"Commander?"
Orion's voice shook. "The truth is... I'm not afraid of the darkness inside me. I'm afraid of what I might do to protect Celeste from Cassius. I'm afraid I'll unleash every drop of corrupted power, destroy both realms, commit atrocities that make Cassius look merciful—all to keep her safe. The bond has given me something to lose, and that makes me more dangerous than I've ever been."
The amphitheater went deathly silent.
Through the bond, I felt the truth of his words. He would burn down everything for me. And that terrified him.
"Final truth," the Goddess said quietly. "And this must be the deepest truth of all. The one you've hidden even from yourselves."
I looked at Orion across the platform. Whatever we said next would change everything.
"The truth is..." My voice cracked. "I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of living. Because if we survive these trials, if we defeat Cassius, if we save both realms—then what? I'll have to figure out who I am without all the pain that defined me. And I don't know if there's anything left under all that hurt."
Tears streamed down my face as the pillar accepted my final truth.
Everyone waited for Orion's final truth. The one that would either save us or doom us.
He looked at me, his silver eyes full of something raw and terrifying.
"The truth is..." He took a shuddering breath. "I'm not the hero of this story. I never was. Three hundred years ago, I didn't make that pact to save anyone. I made it because I enjoyed the darkness. I wanted the power. And I was afraid if I kept my emotions, I'd realize I was becoming exactly like my father—a monster who destroyed everything he touched. The pact wasn't noble. It was cowardice. And every life I've saved since then was just me trying to atone for the lives I wanted to take."
The amphitheater erupted in shocked whispers.
The pillar burned so bright I had to look away—
And then it exploded.
Orion screamed as dark energy poured from his body, the three hundred year old pact finally shattering completely. Shadows and corrupted starlight swirled around him like a storm, and his eyes—
His eyes turned black.
The Moon Goddess's voice rang out: "The Trial of Truth is complete. But the price..." She sounded genuinely sorrowful. "The price is higher than expected. Commander Orion's suppressed darkness has been fully awakened. He has sixty seconds before it consumes him completely."
Sixty seconds.
Orion looked at me, and through the bond, I felt everything—his love, his terror, his desperate need to protect me even as darkness swallowed him whole.
"Run," he gasped. "Celeste, run before I—"
His body convulsed, more dark energy pouring out.
"There is one way to save him," the Goddess said. "The soul-bond can absorb the darkness. But doing so will transfer it all into you, Celeste. You will carry his corruption along with your own power. It may destroy you. Or it may make you into something no one has ever seen—a Starweaver who wields both light and darkness."
"How do I do it?" I demanded.
"Kiss him. Use the bond to pull the darkness from his soul into yours."
Forty seconds.
The entire amphitheater watched, waiting to see what I'd choose.
Save him and risk becoming a monster myself, or let him die and break the bond, surviving but alone.
I didn't hesitate.
I ran to Orion and grabbed his face between my hands. His skin burned with corrupted energy, and through the bond, I felt the darkness trying to consume everything he was.
"I've got you," I whispered. "Trust me."
And I kissed him.
The moment our lips touched, the bond exploded with power. Darkness poured from him into me like a flood, and I screamed into the kiss as it filled every cell of my body.
It hurt. Gods, it hurt.
But I didn't let go.
I kept kissing him, kept pulling the darkness out, kept absorbing three hundred years of suppressed corruption until—
Silence.
The darkness stopped flowing. I pulled back, gasping.
Orion collapsed, but his eyes were silver again. The corruption was gone from him.
And now it was all inside me.
I looked down at my hands and saw dark shadows swirling beneath my silver starlight. Light and darkness, merged together in an impossible combination.
The Moon Goddess stared at me in shock. "Impossible. No one has ever balanced both forces at once. You should be destroyed by now."
But I wasn't destroyed.
I was stronger.
I could feel it—power beyond anything I'd imagined, flowing through every part of me.
"The first trial is complete," the Goddess said slowly. "But what you've become, child... I don't know if it's salvation or damnation."
Through the bond, I felt Orion stirring. He looked up at me, saw the darkness in my eyes, and horror filled his face.
"What have you done?" he whispered.
The seventh pillar suddenly blazed to life—even though we'd only completed one trial.
And a voice that wasn't the Moon Goddess echoed through the amphitheater:
"She's done exactly what I wanted. Thank you, little Starweaver, for making yourself into the perfect weapon. Now I don't need to capture you—I just need to turn you."
Lord Cassius Void appeared on the platform between us, smiling.
"Hello again. Let's discuss how you're going to help me destroy both realms."