🌌 Chapter 17 – Ripples in Steel
Caelum sat in the quiet of his chamber, Avalon's silver moonlight spilling across his desk. His sword rested against the wall, its edge gleaming faintly—like a constant reminder of the weight he carried.
He had lived two lives.
He had fought wars, slain monarchs of shadow, and even wrestled with gods.
His heart had never wavered.
So why now?
---
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The image of Aurora flashed unbidden into his mind: a girl in white, trembling beneath the jeers of cruel classmates.
She was afraid. He could see it. The way her shoulders stiffened, her hands clenched—but her eyes never begged for help.
Most would have cried, or begged for mercy.
But she didn't.
"...She stood there like she had no one left to rely on."
His voice was low, almost uncertain, as though speaking aloud might steady the thoughts swirling inside.
---
A knock came at his door.
"Caelum?" A boy from his dorm, one of the upper-ranked students, poked his head in. "We're planning a spar tomorrow. Come join. It'll be good practice."
Caelum opened his eyes. A spar. Training. Routine. Everything he knew.
And yet… his chest tightened. He remembered Aurora's expression again—lonely, cornered.
"No," he said simply. "Not tomorrow."
The boy blinked, surprised. Caelum never refused training. "...Suit yourself." He closed the door.
Caelum exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. What am I doing?
---
From his window, he looked down at Avalon's grounds. Lanterns glimmered across the academy gardens, illuminating the faint paths between dorms.
Somewhere down there… she was alone.
And for the first time since his rebirth, Caelum wondered if strength wasn't always about battlefields.
"Strange," he whispered, his golden eyes narrowing. "Why do I… want to see her again?"
---
Across the academy, in the stillness of her own dorm, Aurora's system glowed faintly as if aware of the same pull.
> [Observation: The Reborn Hero's interest in you is increasing.]
[Warning: Do not allow his curiosity to develop into attachment.]
Aurora pressed her palm to her chest, feeling the faint pulse of something she had tried to deny.
Two lives, two different paths—yet fate had already begun to weave them together.