Chapter 72: Slice-of-Life: Campus Festival

The infirmary had released him three days ago with strict instructions to rest.

Lucian had nodded, smiled, and immediately returned to training. Cora had yelled at him. Mason had silently handed him a cup of tea. Sera had rolled her eyes. Derek had said nothing, just watched him with those quiet eyes that saw more than they should.

Alistair had given him a look that said I’m not your mother, but I will make your life difficult if you collapse again.

Lucian trained anyway.

But today, the campus was different. The usual rush of students heading to classes had been replaced by a slower, looser crowd. Booths lined the main quad. Colored lanterns hung from the trees. The smell of roasted chestnuts and fried dough drifted through the air.

Ashford’s annual autumn festival.

Leo had texted him at seven in the morning. You’re coming. No excuses.

Lucian had texted back. I have training.

Training can wait. The festival cannot. Tara already agreed. Jenna is bringing her camera. You’re outnumbered.

He went.

---

The quad was packed.

Students milled between booths, some in costume, most just in jackets and scarves. A band played on a makeshift stage near the fountain—some student group covering old rock songs, the singer slightly off-key but enthusiastic.

Leo spotted him first.

"There he is. The man who never shows up to anything."

Lucian walked over. "I show up."

"To class, barely. To training, always. To fun, never."

Jenna was already filming. She panned from Leo’s face to Lucian’s. "The elusive Lucian Vale, caught in his natural habitat."

Lucian looked at the camera. "Turn that off."

"No."

Tara stood beside Jenna, arms crossed, a small smile on her face. "Let her. She’s been editing a festival vlog for a week. You’re content now."

"I don’t want to be content."

"Too late."

Leo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him toward the booths. "Come on. They have a shooting game. You’ll love it."

---

The shooting game was a small booth at the edge of the quad.

A row of plastic rifles chained to the counter. Paper targets on strings, moving back and forth. Prizes on the back wall—stuffed animals, cheap electronics, a giant purple octopus that looked vaguely threatening.

The vendor was a bored-looking student with a nose ring and a hoodie. "Three shots for five dollars. Win all three, pick any prize."

Leo shoved money at the vendor. "Give him the rifle."

Lucian picked it up. Cheap plastic. The sight was misaligned. The trigger had too much play.

He raised it.

The first target swung left. He fired. It dropped.

The second target swung right. He fired. It dropped.

The third target was smaller, faster, attached to a different string. It zigged. He fired. It dropped.

Three shots. Three hits.

The vendor blinked. "You’ve done this before."

"I practice."

Leo whooped. Jenna filmed. Tara raised an eyebrow.

Lucian pointed at the giant purple octopus. "That one."

The vendor handed it over. It was bigger up close. Floppy. Heavy. Lucian held it by one tentacle.

Leo laughed. "What are you going to do with that?"

"Give it to Margie."

"She’ll hate it."

"That’s the point."

---

Jenna posted the video within the hour.

The comments came fast.

Who is that?

Is he a secret agent?

That aim is insane.

Look at his face, he didn’t even blink.

Definitely a spy.

Leo read them aloud as they walked toward the food stalls. "Secret agent. I like that one. Very dramatic."

Lucian kept walking. "I’m not a secret agent."

"You’re something."

"I’m a student."

"Students don’t shoot like that."

Tara glanced at Lucian. "He has a point. That wasn’t normal."

Lucian shifted the octopus to his other arm. "I’ve been practicing martial arts. Good hand-eye coordination."

Jenna lowered her phone. "Martial arts don’t teach you to compensate for a misaligned sight in half a second."

"Maybe I’m just talented."

Tara studied his face. "You’re hiding something."

"We’re all hiding something."

Leo bumped his shoulder. "Deep, Vale. Real deep."

They reached the food stalls. The smell of fried dough and sugar filled the air. Leo bought three orders of something that looked like dough and tasted like heaven. Jenna filmed herself eating. Tara complained about the calories while eating her share.

Lucian stood apart, the octopus under his arm, watching the crowd.

Normal students. Normal lives. They worried about exams and relationships and what to wear to the festival.

He worried about demon princes and blood moons and the Veil falling.

The white space still echoed in his mind. Not yet. He hadn’t told anyone about it. Not the voice. Not the crown. Not the wings. Some secrets were too heavy to share.

But here, in the noise and the light, with Leo laughing and Jenna filming and Tara rolling her eyes, the weight felt lighter.

"Lucian."

He turned. Margie stood behind him, arms crossed, eyes on the octopus.

"What is that?"

"A prize."

"From where?"

"The shooting game."

She stared at him. "You won a giant purple octopus."

"Yes."

"From a shooting game."

"Yes."

"Because you wanted to give it to me."

"Yes."

She snatched it from him. Held it by one tentacle. It dragged on the ground.

"I hate it."

"That’s why I picked it."

She walked away, the octopus dragging behind her. Jenna filmed her leaving. Leo laughed. Tara shook her head.

Lucian watched her go.

Then he turned back to the festival.

---

Later, when the lanterns had been lit and the band had played their last song, Lucian sat on a bench near the fountain.

The crowd had thinned. Couples walked hand in hand. Groups of friends laughed and stumbled toward their dorms.

Leo dropped onto the bench beside him. "You’re brooding again."

"I’m not brooding."

"You’re sitting alone in the dark. That’s brooding."

"I’m thinking."

"Same thing."

Lucian didn’t argue.

Leo leaned back, looked at the sky. "You know, you’re weird. But you’re not bad weird. Just... quiet weird."

"Thanks."

"It’s a compliment."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Whatever you’re dealing with," Leo said, "the thing you won’t talk about—you don’t have to tell me. But you don’t have to hide it from everyone either." He stood. "We’re your friends. Even if you’re a secret agent."

Lucian almost smiled. "I’m not a secret agent."

"Then stop acting like one."

Leo walked away.

Lucian sat alone in the dark, the echoes of the festival fading around him.

Not yet.

He still didn’t know what that meant.

But for tonight, he let himself be normal.