The sky had begun to blush with the colors of dusk when the flying ship descended upon the edge of the noble district, its hull shimmering with faint mana sigils. The floating island they returned to was medium-sized—a kingdom in its own right, dotted with elegant spires, arching bridges, and magic-fueled lanterns that lit as the sun fell.
Lucien stepped off the ship quietly. The journey back had been mostly silent, though Aeris occasionally glanced at him, her expression unreadable. He didn't speak either—his heart still adjusting to the strange warmth growing inside him. Something unexplainable had started to bloom after the campfire night. Not just feelings… but something deeper.
Back at the estate, Aeris led him to a courtyard surrounded by trimmed hedges and white-stone walkways. The moonlight spilled across the open ground, bathing everything in a serene glow.
"This is where I first learned to control mana," she said, finally breaking the silence. "It listens to emotion... to intent."
Lucien's eyes followed her steps as she raised her hand. From her palm, a trail of ice bloomed, forming a crystal rose mid-air before shattering into a thousand glimmering snowflakes.
"You try."
He looked at his own hand. It trembled. Not from fear, but from disbelief. Why would mana listen to me? But he closed his eyes and reached inward, like she said. He thought of a note—just one. A soft, lingering hum that lived in his heart. And when he hummed it aloud, a faint shimmer bloomed around his hand. Fleeting. Gentle.
"I don't think I'm doing it right," he murmured.
Aeris shook her head. "You're doing something else."
The air around them started to pulse. Slowly, softly. Lucien hummed again—this time, adding a second note. Then a third. And as the melody grew, so did the magic. Not outward like fire or ice, but inward.
The space around them changed. The courtyard dissolved. In its place appeared a dreamscape—an endless field under a sky painted in twilight. The wind whispered a melody only they could hear, and flowers bloomed with the rhythm of his tune.
Aeris's eyes widened. "What is this…?"
"I don't know," Lucien whispered. "But it's what I feel."
They were no longer standing in the kingdom. His magic—his music—had formed a world. Not illusion, not hallucination… it felt real. And it pulsed with his emotions.
"It's beautiful," she said quietly. "Your magic… creates what's in your heart?"
Lucien swallowed hard, emotion rising in his throat. "It's… the first time something came from me that wasn't pain."
She stepped beside him, her hand brushing his. "Then show me. Show me who you are."
He nodded. With a deep breath, he sang—not a song of words, but pure melody. Each note summoned a memory, not of Earth, but of hope. Laughter he never got to have. The warmth of a family. The embrace of acceptance. And Aeris could see it all—feel it through the world he made.
Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Lucien… this is what you've been holding in."
The song faded. The field dissolved. And they were back in the courtyard, under the silver moon.
Lucien collapsed to his knees, exhausted, but not in pain.
Aeris knelt beside him. "Your power is rare. I've only read about sound-based magic in ancient texts. But nothing like this."
He smiled, weakly. "Music… was all I had. Maybe… maybe it's what I am."
She helped him up, and for the first time, her cold hands felt warm.
"You're not alone anymore."
As the soft echo of the final note faded, Aeris looked at Lucien with something between awe and concern."Your magic... it's unlike anything I've ever seen," she said softly.
Lucien gave a nervous smile, wiping sweat from his brow. "Honestly, I didn't even know I could do that…"
"We need to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere you can rest. And learn."She paused. "You'll stay with me. At my estate."
He blinked. "Wait, your estate?"
"You thought I lived in a tent?" she smirked. "Come on, Song boy."
That Evening. Aeris's Mansion
The air shifted as the flying carriage touched down on the balcony of the Virell estate—an elegant structure nestled against the side of a mountain floating above a sea of clouds. The halls shimmered with moonlit crystals, soft blue lights glowing faintly from enchanted sconces.
Lucien gawked at everything from the massive chandelier in the foyer to the twin spiral staircases.
"You're drooling," Aeris teased as she walked past him.
"I'm—! No, I'm not!" Lucien wiped his chin just in case.
"You looked like a lost noble's pet walking into a royal ball."
He flushed. "I'm just not used to places like this…"
She tilted her head, a flicker of something sad in her eyes. "Well, get used to it. You're staying here for a while."
Dinner Time
The dining table could easily seat thirty, but Aeris sat directly across from Lucien at one end, her hands folded primly as servants brought out dish after dish.
Lucien picked up a spoon, looked at the strange glimmering purple soup, and sniffed it cautiously.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Draleen blossom broth," Aeris said matter-of-factly. "Very rare. Good for mana flow."
He took a sip and instantly gagged. "Tastes like a magic potion and wet socks had a baby."
Aeris burst into laughter—actual, full laughter—and leaned back in her chair. "You're not wrong. I always hated it too."
"I thought nobles were supposed to like weird food."
"Only the ones without tastebuds."
They laughed together, and for a moment, the world felt light.
Later That Night
Lucien stared at the massive bed in the guest room. It looked like it could swallow him whole.
He poked one of the pillows. "I think this thing costs more than my whole house back on Earth…"
A knock came at the door.
"I brought you something," Aeris's voice came from the other side.
He opened it to find her holding… a stuffed rabbit?
"It was mine when I was small," she said quickly. "I thought… you might like something familiar."
Lucien held it carefully, touched by the gesture. "Thanks… Aeris."
She smiled and turned to leave, then paused. "Balcony has a great view, by the way. If you're going to sing again, don't make the stars cry."
"Can't make any promises."
The stars stretched wide above the floating mansion. The wind carried the scent of evening blossoms, and clouds shimmered faintly below.
Lucien sat on the railing with the rabbit tucked beside him, humming softly.
Then, slowly, he sang. A soft lullaby his grandfather once sang to him. The melody drifted into the sky, the notes shimmering faintly as if the magic of the world itself responded.
Behind a curtain, unseen, Aeris watched with arms folded—silent, but listening.
And as the final note faded, the night seemed a little warmer.