The sun hung high above the western wing of the Velebrandt mansion, casting soft golden beams through the expansive windows of the chamber. The light shimmered against the marble floors, bathing the air in warmth and silence. Within the room, young Lucien lay sound asleep on the velvet couch, his chest gently rising and falling with each breath, the remnants of exhaustion still weighing his limbs like lead.
Miss Lunar stood beside him, her hands slowly withdrawing from his bare upper back. The motion was delicate, almost reverent. Her long, curly green hair shifted lightly with the motion, and her small, pale face held a thoughtful expression as she observed the boy's form.
"You've awakened as an aura user," she finally said in a whisper, more to herself than to the sleeping child.
But Lucien offered no reply.
His eyes remained closed, his face relaxed in slumber. The only sound from him was the rhythmic inhale and exhale of someone deeply at rest.
