Lucien Vale was very good at being loved.
He smiled at the right moments, laughed easily, and never raised his voice. He trained hard in public and harder when people were watching. Wherever he walked, light followed—warm, comforting, unquestioned.
Elara walked beside him, and the academy approved.
"You're lucky," people told her.
"He's chosen you."
"You'll be safe now."
Safe.
The word felt hollow.
It started with small things.
Lucien corrected her too often, his praise sharp around the edges when she didn't meet expectations. When she outperformed him during drills, his smile tightened just a little too fast.
"Careful," he said once, fingers lingering on her wrist longer than necessary. "You don't want to look like you're competing with me."
She laughed it off. Everyone did.
Heroes weren't questioned.
That night, the academy bell rang—low, urgent.
A breach.
Dark energy tore through the eastern wards, violent and uncontrolled. Students scattered as something clawed its way out of the shadows—wrong, twisted, starving.
Lucien drew his weapon, light blazing. "Stay behind me," he called, voice ringing with confidence.
Elara obeyed.
The creature lunged.
Lucien struck—too slow.
The beast swerved, bypassing him completely.
Straight for Elara.
Time fractured.
Shadows erupted from the ground, slamming into the creature midair and tearing it back with brutal precision. The force shook the courtyard.
Kael stood between Elara and the darkness, chest heaving, eyes burning like dying stars.
"Run," he snapped without looking at her.
The creature shrieked and dissolved under his power.
Silence followed.
Then applause.
Not for Kael.
Lucien stepped forward, light flaring brighter than before. "It's over," he announced. "Everyone's safe."
The crowd surged toward him, voices raised in awe.
"Elara," Lucien said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder, steering her away from Kael. "You shouldn't be near him."
Kael said nothing.
He didn't defend himself. He never did.
Later, Elara found Kael at the boundary stones, blood dark against his sleeve.
"You were hurt," she said, breathless.
"It's nothing."
"You saved me."
He turned away. "I removed a threat."
"They praised him."
"I know."
The pain in his voice was quiet. Controlled. Devastating.
"Why do you let him take credit?" she asked.
Kael's laugh was low and empty. "Because heroes are believed. Villains are useful."
She stepped closer. He didn't move this time.
"You don't even try to explain."
"Explanation doesn't change endings," he said. "Only who survives them."
Elara's chest ached. "I hate that they don't see you."
His eyes finally met hers. "I hate that you do."
Footsteps crunched behind them.
Lucien.
"There you are," he said pleasantly, gaze flicking to Kael with polite disdain. "You shouldn't be alone with him. People talk."
Kael stiffened, shadows stirring.
Lucien smiled wider. "Careful," he added lightly. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're choosing the wrong side."
Something in Elara snapped—not loudly, but completely.
"I saw what happened," she said.
Lucien blinked. Just once.
"You missed," she continued. "He didn't."
The air went cold.
Lucien's smile returned—slower this time. "You're shaken," he said gently. "Trauma confuses memory."
Kael's jaw clenched.
Elara realized then: the hero wasn't afraid of Kael.
He was afraid of the truth.
That night, as Elara lay awake, she understood something terrible.
Kael suffered in silence to keep her safe.
Lucien smiled in the light while standing just far enough back to stay clean.
And the story—the one everyone believed—was starting to rot at its edges.
Because the villain was bleeding for her.
And the hero was watching it happen.