Chapter 26 Threads of Fire and Starlight

Chapter 26 Aurelia I sat near the top of the amphitheater, arms folded, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm against the edge of my ch

Chapter 26

Aurelia

I sat near the top of the amphitheater, arms folded, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm against the edge of my chair. I hadn’t opened my notes. I hadn’t looked at the instructor. I hadn’t blinked in at least three minutes.

Because everyone in the room had turned to look at him 24 hours after the world went crazy and a college student with no chest, no guild and no back up fought a Level S Threat and won.

Now he was coming back to class.

Zane Myles finally made his appearance. He was looking rough. Black jacket slung over one shoulder. A bandage still fresh beneath his collar. He moved like someone running on fumes—steady, but frayed at the edges. His eyes were distant. Shoulders drawn too tight to be casual.

He didn’t say a word.

Whispers tracked him down the steps like static.

“That’s him, right?”
“The one from the Rift incursion?”
“He soloed a Death Knight—what level is he even?”

Two girls near the front actually slid over to make room for him. One of them patted the seat beside her. He didn’t so much as glance at them. Just kept walking. Head low. Steps quiet. Like none of it had anything to do with him.

But I knew better. It was in the way he moved—slow but deliberate. In the way exhaustion sat heavy on his eyes. He wasn’t calm. He was concerned. Wary.

I felt a nagging heaviness in my heart and was just about to get up and go to him when my morning decided to get worse.

A laugh floated in from the entryway—high, glittering, and somehow both practiced and piercing.

And then she entered like the whirlwind she was: Seraphina Valette du Lys, of the Valette du Lys family. Another high-born House, much like my own.

I did not like where this was heading. I didn’t need to look. My stomach twisted on instinct. Pink silk. Mana-thread bows. Five feet of weaponized sparkle with a family crest, high heels, tanned legs, and absolutely no shame.

“Zaaane~!” she trilled, stepping into the amphitheater like it was a runway. “There you are! I simply had to congratulate you in person.”

Zane turned, clearly confused. He looked like he was trying to place her. But his reaction was secondary, because she was already on him—gliding past the other students like they didn’t exist and linking her arm through his like they’d known each other since childhood.

Zane looked surprised, then amused.

I could have stabbed her right there. Perhaps I still should.

“I adored the footage,” she said, brushing his shoulder. “So composed. So commanding. You must let me take you to lunch. Or dinner. Or somewhere far more scandalous.”

My mana flared. Just slightly. The overhead lights dimmed by a full lumen. I said nothing. Just watched.

Zane didn’t say anything—just raised an eyebrow.

She leaned in closer. “You really should smile more, Zane. I bet you’d be absolutely devastating if you tried.”

He stepped back and removed her hand with a polite but firm grip.

“Appreciate it,” he said. “But I’m here for class.”

Seraphina pouted. “Oh, don’t be shy. I came all the way here to see you. I think you could use a friend, and I’m very easy to talk to.”

I swear to every star in the sky—she did not just say that.

Zane turned from her, continuing his trek toward a specific section of seating. He reached his row and dropped into the seat like it was a lifeline. Everyone in the room watched him. The way he sat lower than usual. It wasn’t hard to tell—he hated this. Anyone could see it. They wouldn’t leave him alone, and it was only going to get worse. The rumor mill was working overtime, as was every social feed in the Kingdom.

It had taken ten minutes after the fight with the Death Knight for people to figure out who Zane was—and even less time for major players to start moving.

There were rumors about the Adventurers’ Guild, the Grand Rector, and Internal Rift Response all wanting to talk to him. No concrete information yet, but enough whispers to intrigue.

I knew for a fact that already this morning, a war college initiate had passed him a business card. A Rift Watch Corps scout had slipped a sponsorship glyph into his bag when he wasn’t looking. Rumor had it there had been over forty requests for transfer to our school since dawn. And the kicker? One fourth-year girl had proposed marriage to him before he even got to class.

All of it in less than twenty-four hours.

Zane looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

I thought it was time to help. I stood and moved quietly. The entire room noticed. I didn’t intend to make a scene. But I’m Aurelia Vael Taranis. Scenes tend to follow me wherever I go.

I descended the stairs in silence. Each step deliberate and measured. I worked it. Maybe I thought if I could get people to focus on me, it might give Zane some relief.

Wishful thinking. I knew better.

Zane looked up as I approached. And for the first time all morning, he smiled. It was soft, small, but real. This wasn’t the mask he wore for crowds. It was warmer—and good lord, did he look tired. So very tired. I could see how coiled tight he was from strain. His posture, always so solid, slackened by just a breath. Most wouldn’t notice. But I did.

I stopped beside his desk.

“I told you not to ignore me in class,” I said softly.

He blinked up at me. Still smiling. But behind his eyes—exhaustion.

Before he could answer—

“Zaa~ne!” came the voice I’d been dreading. Again. Seraphina was there again, like a ghost—or better said, a malicious spirit. She came at him boob-first.

I glared at her.

Seraphina leaned over his desk—on his desk—letting her neckline do most of the talking. Then, with theatrical flair, she reached down her top and pulled out a glowing mana card.

I gaped at her. Did she seriously just pull a card out of her cleavage? Who does that?

Gasps spread across the room.

“I wasn’t going to show this yet,” she said sweetly, letting the card float midair. “But I suppose I must, if I want your attention.”

Zane tilted his head. “I suppose that is one way to get my attention. What are you going to do now that you have it?”

That’s it. I am actually going to stab her. Fine—I’ll make it look like an accident.

She tapped the card.

“I am going to make you an offer you cannot refuse. First, you’ll have a full sponsorship,” she said. “From my mother’s office. Tuition override. Private ward access. House affiliation for both you and your siblings. And realm-weapon licensing for your Willborn blade.”

The room buzzed like a struck crystal. I knew exactly what that card meant. It wasn’t a favor. It was a chain.

Zane didn’t move. But his mana flickered—uncertainty. Because his sword wasn’t registered. Not officially. And an unregistered Willborn blade was a target.

It was the kind of weapon that could be reclaimed. Difficult, but possible. These weapons were unbelievably powerful. The fact that Zane had one… well…

Seraphina leaned closer. “Just one dinner with me, and my father. This weekend perhaps.” She smiled, tilted her head. “If we click… maybe more.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But the first row flinched from the cold radiating off me.

Zane looked at the card. Then at her. Then—at me.

My expression was neutral. But my hand was clenched around my satchel strap so tightly I felt the threads start to fray.

Because I knew what this was.

It wasn’t about dinner.

It never was, it was Zane and control.

Things just got more complicated.