The theatre hall echoed with a different kind of energy tonight.
It wasn't the wild crowd of the underground clubs Kael usually played in. This was refined, rehearsed, glowing with polished spotlights and polished people. He was used to heat, grit, chaos.
Here, everything shimmered.
And beside him—she walked in like she belonged in that shimmer.
"Name's Lyra Solace," she said, flashing him a polite smile as she adjusted the microphone stand. "We're doing this, right?"
Kael gave a brief nod, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was… odd. Not nervous, not overexcited. Calm. Still. Like someone carrying a secret but not yet ready to unpack it.
She wore a simple white jumpsuit, her blond hair tied in a soft braid. But her presence was anything but plain. She felt—
Bright.
Not just pretty or charismatic. She literally glowed. Not visibly. Not like a neon sign. But Kael felt it in the way his frost pulsed quietly under his skin when she came near. His tattoo—the invisible one—itched again.
She didn't look at it. Didn't even seem to notice. But the moment her fingers brushed the piano keys, Kael was sure of one thing.
She wasn't normal.
And she was hiding something.
They began the duet—a haunting melody Kael had never played with anyone else before. His guitar layered beneath her voice like shadow behind sunrise.
And then it happened.
During the bridge, when their harmonies rose, a tiny orb of white light blinked into the air above her shoulder. Like a firefly made of stardust. Faint. Barely visible.
Kael's breath hitched.
She noticed.
But she didn't stop.
She kept singing… with eyes closed, like it was normal.
After the performance ended, applause erupted. But Kael barely heard it. He turned to her as they left the stage.
"What was that?" he asked under his breath.
Lyra tilted her head. "What was what?"
"That glow."
She didn't answer right away. Then smiled, almost sadly. "Some of us shine differently."
And with that, she walked away before he could ask her anything else.
But he saw it—just before she vanished into the backstage shadows:
A mark at the nape of her neck.
A symbol of light.
The sun hung lazily over Crescent Hill University, casting golden streaks across the courtyard as Rhea sat cross-legged on the campus lawn, scribbling notes and doodles into her sketchbook.
Around her, the usual chaos buzzed—students rushing to classes, laughter echoing from the canteen, someone beatboxing terribly in the distance.
"I'm telling you," Elena said through a mouthful of chips, "your dream guy is just your brain saying go touch grass and fall in love already."
Rhea snorted. "He doesn't even have a face, Elena."
"Perfect. No heartbreak. Just vibes."
Their other friend, Sami, flopped beside them. "Did you hear? There's some exchange program going on. A bunch of elite students joining this week. From... wait for it... The Academy of Experimental Arts and Sciences."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Sounds like rich kids with ego problems."
Rhea smiled, watching a butterfly flutter past. For a moment, life felt… normal.
But normal never lasted long in her world.
Later that afternoon, her bag slipped off her shoulder as she rushed down the library stairs, distracted by her phone buzzing with an assignment deadline. Her foot missed a step—and gravity pulled.
"Whoa—careful!"
A warm hand caught her wrist mid-fall, strong and swift.
Her breath hitched.
She looked up into amber eyes, intense and oddly calm. His skin was tanned, his hair slightly tousled, and his grip... burned. Not painfully—but like standing too close to a fireplace on a winter night.
He pulled her back with ease.
"Stairs aren't your friend, huh?"
Rhea blinked, still recovering. "Uhh... thanks. I guess I got distracted."
He gave a small grin, almost apologetic. "Happens."
And just like that, he turned and walked away—casual, like nothing had happened.
But as he passed into the sunlit hallway, Rhea could've sworn she saw a faint ember flicker in his shadow. A soft, red glow curling near his wrist—gone in a blink.
She stood frozen for a beat.
Elena ran up behind her. "Hey! You good? You nearly flew down the stairs!"
Rhea nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on where the boy had disappeared.
"Yeah," she murmured. "Someone caught me."
And inside her sketchbook, tucked in her bag, one page had begun to warm—faint and golden—where she had drawn five glowing figures long ago.
Rhea found him again—leaning against the vending machine near the music block, a sports bottle in hand, gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
She hesitated before walking up.
"You're good at catching people," she said lightly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Should consider superhero work."
He glanced at her, a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Only catch people falling down stairs. It's a niche specialty."
She laughed softly. "Rhea," she offered, extending a hand.
He looked at it for a second—then shook it. His palm was warm. Too warm.
"Rael."
"Rael," she repeated. "You new?"
"Just transferred. Experimental Arts."
"Of course you did," she teased. "You've got that 'I-paint-fire-with-my-mind' energy."
Something in his eyes sparked—like she'd touched a chord without meaning to. But he just tilted his head. "You think I paint fire?"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "I don't know... you've got this constant warmth vibe. Like... you carry summer in your veins or something."
He looked away for a beat, his tone softer. "Maybe I do."
There was a pause.
And then, very gently, he asked, "Do you always dream about falling?"
Her breath caught. "What?"
Rael didn't meet her eyes. "Never mind. I just… sometimes we remember more than we think."
And before she could ask him what he meant, he pushed away from the vending machine, leaving behind only the soft scent of burnt cinnamon and something old—like ashes from a fire that never truly died.
Rhea stared after him, heart thudding.
He knew something.
But how?
The auditorium lights dimmed, casting a hush over the murmuring crowd.
Backstage, Kael stood silently, his electric guitar slung across his chest, fingers resting loosely on the strings. Despite the silence, his breath left small puffs in the air—barely visible, but undeniably there.
A chill clung to him, one that had nothing to do with nerves.
He turned when footsteps echoed behind him.
Lyra stepped into view—soft silver dress catching light, her presence glowing, quite literally, like the moon reflecting on still water. Her long platinum hair was pulled to one side, revealing a faint, elegant mark just below her collarbone.
A rune Kael couldn't quite decipher.
"You good?" she asked, offering a calm smile.
Kael nodded once. "Always."
She studied him a little longer than needed. "You're freezing."
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Your aura," she said softly. "It's cold. Like… snow just before it melts."
His lips parted, unsure what to say. He'd never heard someone describe it like that.
Lyra didn't wait. She turned, adjusting her mic.
"Light and ice," she muttered. "Weird pairing."
Kael stared. "What?"
She glanced back, smile playful this time. "Nothing. Just... we'll look good under the blue lights. Let's give them a performance to remember."
The curtains rose. Applause swelled.
Kael strummed the first chord—sharp, clean, and laced with energy that crackled beneath his skin. Lyra's voice joined a beat later—light, clear, and haunting.
And for a moment, the auditorium shimmered—not from the stage lights, but from something else.
Something ancient.
In the blue haze, Lyra's eyes glowed faintly, and Kael's shoulder tattoo—the one no one else could see—flared beneath his jacket: the sword's emblem, pulsing in rhythm with the song.
Neither of them noticed fully.
But something did.
Watching.
Waiting.
The first note of destiny had been struck.
"You have to come with me!"
Rhea barely looked up from her textbook as Elena burst into their dorm room like a windstorm, hair flying, cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Elena," Rhea said, adjusting her pillow behind her back, "if this is about Kael again—"
"It is always about Kael!" Elena practically sang, twirling dramatically before throwing herself onto the bed beside Rhea. "And guess what?!"
Rhea sighed, but she was smiling. "You married him in your dream again?"
"No, dummy. We won front-row tickets!" Elena held up two sleek, holographic passes with sparkles embedded in the design. "For Kael & Lyra: One Night Echo concert this weekend!"
Rhea blinked. "You… entered a contest?"
"More like twelve of them," Elena grinned. "And one finally hit. These seats are legendary, Rhee! We'll be close enough to see his tattoo glow."
Rhea narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Just a theory," Elena waved her off. "Anyway, I need moral support. If I pass out from fangirling, you'll catch me. Like Rael caught you." She winked.
Rhea rolled her eyes. "It's just a guy singing. Why the chaos?"
"It's Kael," Elena said reverently. "He's not just a guy. He's ice, mystery, melody... he's—"
"—wearing way too much black eyeliner?"
Elena gasped like she'd been personally betrayed.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," she huffed. "Anyway, you're coming. No backing out. I already marked us in the attendance sheet."
Rhea groaned. "Why do you do this to me?"
"Because deep down, I know you're curious too."
There was a pause.
Rhea glanced at the ticket Elena had laid on her lap. Her fingers brushed the surface.
And somewhere, quietly within her, that same cool pull of something ancient stirred again.
"…Fine," she muttered.
Elena squealed in triumph.