The applause didn't reach him.
Abell slipped away from the market, unsatisfied, already halfway up the rolling hills outside Iridius. His legs burned and his pulse raced as he tried to outrun the frustration building inside him.
The climb didn't stop until he reached the top.
Below, the town looked peaceful in the late afternoon sun. Golden light washed over thatched roofs and winding streets. Calm. Ordinary.
He climbed onto a jagged rock, fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.
"ARGHHH!"
His voice echoed into the open sky, carried by the wind. But it didn't change anything.
It's still not good enough. He dropped to sit at the edge of the cliff. Genevieve was already out there traveling the country, hunting Malignants, saving lives. And I'm still here. Playing town guard.
A few kids chased each other below, laughing like nothing had happened. Their voices drifted up in faint threads of sound.
I can barely handle three Malignants... but Genevieve? She didn't need saving. She was the one doing the saving.
"You okay, Abell?"
"I'm just resting," he replied without turning.
Astrid came into view with an eyebrow raised, her brown hair catching the sunlight. "Uh-huh. Because yelling into the sky is how normal people rest."
He sighed. "Did my mom send you?"
"She was worried. Told me to patch you up."
"I don't need patching."
She didn't ask again. Sitting beside him, she jabbed him in the ribs.
"OW! What was that for?!"
"See? You do need it." She pulled out a cloth from her bag and pressed it against a scrape on his arm. He winced but let her work. Her hands were steady, like she'd done this plenty of times before.
"You're getting better at this," he said after a moment.
Astrid blinked. "Was that... a compliment?"
He shrugged. "You used to suck at it."
"Thanks for the reminder." She folded the cloth, but her voice softened. "Hey, Abell... thanks for everything. I know how hard you've worked to keep this town safe."
He didn't respond.
"You act like you don't care, but it shows. We both grew up here. Don't pretend you're not part of it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.
Astrid grinned. "Ah, so that's your weakness. You hate being thanked."
"I think you hit your head."
"Sure, Mr. Hero." She looked back toward the town. "Come on. The feast's starting."
They made their way down the hill. The scent of roasted meat hit first, followed by music and laughter. Iridius was alive with celebration.
Lanterns swayed from every post, casting warm circles of light across the gathering crowd. Kids wove between the rebuilt stalls. Some were still half-broken, but the energy was back.
"See?" Astrid nudged him. "You should enjoy this. It's because of you."
Abell rolled his shoulder. "We'll see."
"Seriously?" she groaned. "It's a festival. Let's at least get food before you disappear again."
He opened his mouth to respond, but
"ABELL!"
Misha launched toward him like a rocket. Before he could react, the kid collided with his side.
"That was AMAZING!" Misha shouted. "The sword! The Malignant! You just, WHAM! Sliced right through it!"
Abell sighed. "Energy for days..." But he ruffled Misha's messy brown hair anyway. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, little guy."
Misha froze completely, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His face went bright red.
Astrid smirked. "You broke him."
"N-no!" Misha puffed his chest out. "I just, wasn't ready for that!"
"Sure you weren't." Astrid laughed, then turned to Abell. "He looks up to you, you know."
"No, I don't!" Misha protested. "He's just my rival!"
Abell paused, studying the determined little face staring up at him. "Then as your rival, you better start catching up."
"I will!" Misha beamed, practically bouncing on his feet.
Astrid tousled his hair and started guiding him away through the crowd. "Alright, bedtime for you. Let's go." Over her shoulder, she gave Abell a wave. "See you around, Mr. Hero."
Abell didn't say anything, but somehow... the night didn't feel so bad anymore.
He turned to find his path blocked by three elderly women, all staring at him with uncomfortably intense expressions.
"There he is!" one of them whispered loudly. "The hero boy!"
"Oh my, look at those arms," another one giggled. "All that sword swinging really shows."
The third woman, who had to be at least seventy, stepped closer. "Young man, my granddaughter is single. Very pretty. Good with numbers."
"And my niece!" the second chimed in. "She bakes the best bread in town!"
"Ladies, please." Abell started backing away.
"Nonsense!" The first woman waved dismissively. "A hero needs a good woman. Someone to take care of him."
"I can take care of myself."
"My daughter's friend has lovely handwriting," the third woman continued, completely ignoring him. "Perfect for a hero's correspondence."
Abell looked around desperately for an escape route. The women had somehow formed a semicircle, cutting off his retreat.
"Really, I appreciate the offers, but I..."
"Oh, don't be shy!" one of them cackled. "We know what young men need!"
Just then, a food vendor nearby called out, "Hot pies! Fresh meat pies here!"
The women immediately turned their heads toward the sound.
Abell seized his chance and bolted, weaving through the crowd as fast as he could.
"Come back, dear!" one of them shouted after him. "We haven't discussed dowries yet!"
He didn't stop running until he was safely on the other side of the festival.
The music was louder down on the main street. People danced, laughed, shouted across food stalls. The scent of baked goods and grilled meats filled the air.
Abell kept his head down, weaving through the crowd. No eye contact, no small talk.
But then he saw him.
Hugo sat on a stool between two women who looked way too interested in whatever he was saying. His star-shaped pupils caught the lantern light as he leaned in, smiling.
One of the women leaned closer, her cheeks flushed. "So, mister... who even are you? A Luminary?"
Hugo stretched lazily. "Yeah, you could say that."
Another raised a brow, studying his unusual features. "I knew it. That's why you were talking with Keeko earlier."
Her friend suddenly shrieked, nearly spilling her drink. "Wait, are you Abell's dad? Or... a past lover?"
Abell stopped dead in his tracks. What?! He wasn't interested in their gossip at first, but now... this was entertaining.
"NO, nothing like that!" Hugo choked on his drink, coughing. "Just an old friend, okay?"
"Oh." One of the girls deflated. "I thought it'd be like a Vivi Alsaint novel."
"Ugh, you're still reading those trashy romance books?" her friend rolled her eyes. "Anyway, are your eyes, like, natural? They're seriously weird."
"They're like literal stars," the first one whispered, leaning closer.
"Yup." Hugo grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. "Been like this since my Lux awakened."
Both girls blinked at him, clearly having no idea what that meant.
Hugo stood up, brushing off his coat. "As fun as this is, ladies, I've got someone more important to talk to." He turned toward Abell with that familiar smirk, and their eyes met across the crowd.
"Oh no," Abell muttered. "He's coming over here."
Hugo approached with casual confidence, weaving through the festival-goers. "Well, Mr. Bel," he teased, using that ridiculous nickname again. "Ready to talk?"
Abell glared at him, crossing his arms. "What do you want now?"
"Relax. It's nothing bad." Hugo leaned against a half-repaired food stall, his expression shifting to something more serious. The festival lights cast shadows across his face, making those star-shaped pupils seem to glow.
"I've been to towns wiped off the map," he said quietly, his voice cutting through the nearby music and laughter. "No hope. No survivors. Nothing left but ash and bones. But this one? It's... different."
He gestured toward the celebrating crowd around them.
"At first, I came here chasing something darker. But I didn't expect to find this much light in one place. Kinda feels like fate brought me here."
Abell shifted uncomfortably but didn't respond.
"I won't waste time with pretty words," Hugo continued, stepping closer. "The Malignant threat is getting worse out there. Much worse than what you've seen. We need people who can fight, people with guts, instinct, and raw potential. You've got all three."
"I'm just a village kid," Abell muttered.
"Yeah? So was Genevieve." Hugo's smile was knowing, and that name hit like a punch to the gut. "She grew up right here too, didn't she? You've got the same foundation she had. I mean that."
"Where are you going with this?"
Hugo paused for a long moment, then slowly extended his hand. "A recommendation to the Luminary Academy."
Abell blinked, certain he'd misheard. "Wait. What?"
"It's where the best go to test their limits. To learn real control. To stop wasting their potential in places like this." Hugo's voice was steady, but his eyes held an intensity that made Abell's chest tighten.
His heart began to pound as the weight of the offer sank in.
"But... can you even do that? Who are you, really?"
Hugo just grinned, that same mysterious expression he'd worn since arriving in town. "Let's just say... I can pull some very important strings."
His hand remained outstretched between them, steady and patient. "So... you in?"
Abell turned away, his eyes drifting toward the glowing festival. The laughter, the safety, the comfort of everything he'd ever known. But beneath it all, that restless hunger for something more.
He took a deep breath, then reached out and gripped Hugo's hand firmly.
"I'm in."
Just like Genevieve once was.