[Leo’s POV]

The door to my room clicked shut behind me, and the silence swallowed me whole.

I didn’t bother turning on the lights. The afternoon sun was still filtering through the curtains, golden and warm, casting long shadows across the floor that seemed to stretch and shift as the clouds outside drifted past.

I walked to my bed and sat down on the edge, my shoulders heavy and my head bowed and my hair falling across my face like a curtain that I didn’t have the energy to push aside.

Tempest was still in my hand.

I didn’t remember drawing the sword again after Father had grabbed my wrist, but there it was, the dark steel gleaming faintly in the afternoon light, the edge still sharp enough to split a hair, the weight of it familiar and grounding in a way that nothing else in my life was anymore.

I looked down at the blade, the light played across its surface, and I remembered the flames.

The black fire that had crawled along the edge like hungry vines, spreading across the steel with a hunger that had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with consumption.

The hollow purple light pulsing at its core like a heartbeat, slow and steady and utterly without mercy.

The voice in my head whispering sweet poison about burning the world and rising from the ashes, about showing everyone what I really was, about making them pay for every whisper and every sneer and every moment they had made me feel like I was nothing.

I almost killed her.

The thought settled into my chest like a stone, cold and heavy and impossible to push out no matter how hard I tried.

I had stood there on that platform with my sword raised and my eyes hollow and my mind full of fire, and I had been moments away from using Heaven’s Divide on my own sister.

What the fuck is wrong with me...?

I set Tempest down on the bed beside me and stared at my hands.

They were clean, no blood, no scars, nothing to show for what I had almost done, nothing to mark the moment when I had almost crossed a line that I could never come back from.

But I could still feel the heat of the flames lingering in my palms, the hunger pulsing in my chest like a second heart that beat to a rhythm I didn’t control, I could hear the echo of that voice whispering in the back of my mind.

Let the whole world burn.

I closed my eyes and pressed my palms against them, hard enough to see stars bursting behind my lids.

The darkness behind my eyes was supposed to be peaceful, supposed to be a refuge from the chaos of the world, but all I could see was Sylvia’s face—her wide eyes, her trembling hands, and the way she had looked at me like I was a stranger wearing her brother’s skin.

[You are afraid of it.]

Nova’s voice was soft, almost gentle, and I hated it.

I didn’t want gentle. I didn’t want understanding or patience or any of the things that Nova was offering me with that careful tone.

I wanted answers. I wanted a way to control the thing inside me before it consumed me entirely, before it made me hurt someone I loved, and I woke up one day and realized that there was nothing left of me except the hunger.

Of course I’m afraid of it, I thought back, my voice sharp and bitter. Did you see what almost happened? I almost killed her, Nova. My own sister. If Father hadn’t stopped me, if he had been a second slower and his hand hadn’t grabbed my wrist I would have—

[But he did stop you.]

...

Nova paused, and I could feel the weight of his silence pressing against my thoughts.

[The flames are part of you now, Leo. They are not separate from you. They are not a curse or a disease or something that has infected you from the outside. They are yours. Your anger, your pain, your desperation, all of it feeds them. If you cannot control yourself, you cannot control them.]

I lowered my hands and stared at the wall. The Forgotten One said the flames were a seed, I thought. They said it was mine. That it would grow with me. But they didn’t say anything about it trying to eat me from the inside.

[Perhaps they assumed you would be stronger.]

My jaw tightened so hard that I felt my teeth creak.

[I am not trying to hurt you. I am trying to make you understand. The flames are not your enemy, Leo. They are your power. Your strength. The thing that will let you do what needs to be done when the world comes crashing down around you. But power without control is just destruction waiting for a target, and you, more than anyone, should know that by now.]

I thought about my sword art, about Eclipse of the Singularity and the two forms I had created.

I had been so close to forging a third form, something beyond Fractured Eclipse and Heaven’s Divide, something that would let me fight without holding back, without fear, without the constant threat of my own power turning against me at the worst possible moment.

But now I wasn’t sure about anything.

How could I create a third form when I couldn’t even control the flames without almost killing my family? How could I trust myself to wield that kind of power when I had proven, in front of everyone who mattered, that I was one bad moment away from losing control completely?

Besides, how could I make a big mistake? I tried to trust that being who was behind my reincarnation here. He gave me those flames and I thought everything would be alright but it wasn’t.

The Forgotten One even said to me ’Don’t trust anyone, even me.’

So, how could I make a mistake by thinking he was my ally? I clenched my jaw.

There has to be a way, I thought, and I could hear the desperation creeping in my mind. A way to remove the limitations. There will be a way to use the flames without letting them consume me. Something, anything, that will let me be strong without becoming a monster.

[There is always a way. But it will not be found today, and it will not be found in this room, and you cannot find it by sitting here in the dark torturing yourself over something that did not happen.]

Nova’s voice was firm now, brooking no argument. [Rest, Leo. Clear your mind. Tonight, when you are calmer, go and speak with your sister.]

I wanted to argue.

I wanted to scream and punch the wall and demand that Nova give me the answers I was looking for, the easy solution, the magic fix that would make everything better.

But Nova was right, and I hated that too.

I was exhausted. There was a tiredness in my soul that no amount of sleep could cure, a weariness that came from carrying the weight of everything I had done and everything I had failed to do and everything I was afraid I might become.

The hunger in my chest was quieter now, settled back into its cage like a sleeping beast that had been fed and was content to rest. But I could still feel it there, pulsing faintly in the background, waiting for the moment when I would be weak enough to let it out again.

I need to get stronger, I thought.

[Then that is what you will work toward.]

I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. The afternoon light shifted as clouds passed over the sun, and the shadows on the walls waited for evening to come. I let out a long, slow breath, and for a moment, I let myself stop thinking.

Tonight, I thought. I’ll talk to her tonight.

I closed my eyes and let myself rest.

_

The moon was high when Sylvia finally stopped pacing in her room. Everything looked the same as the day she left for the academy, but she felt different. She sat on her bed, staring at her hands. The tremors were gone, but the memory of those black flames remained.

If that attack had hit her, she wasn’t sure if she could counter it quickly.

The thought should have made her angry. It should have made her afraid. But all she felt was a hollow, aching sadness that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

A soft sound came from the doorway, footsteps, light and careful, and Sylvia looked up to see Seris standing there. Her black hair was loose around her shoulders, and her crimson eyes were soft in the moonlight, and her expression was as unreadable as ever.

But she was there. That was what mattered.

"...The moonlight is beautiful tonight," Seris said, her voice quiet and soft. "I thought you might want to see it."

Sylvia looked toward the window. The moon was full and silver, casting pale light across the floor, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds on dark velvet. It was beautiful. She hadn’t noticed until now.

"It’s not your fault, you know," Seris said, stepping further into the room. "What happened today. It’s not your fault."

Sylvia laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Isn’t it? He said some things out there. In the garden. Things that... made sense. I didn’t want to admit were true."

Seris sat down on the bed beside her.

"I wasn’t there for him," Sylvia continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "When he was drowning, when he was falling apart, when he needed someone to stand up for him... I wasn’t there. I was living my life, making friends, building my future. And he was here, alone, being eaten alive by a world that had already decided he was a failure."

She looked down at her hands again.

"I told myself I was too busy, I had my own problems. I thought maybe he would figure it out on his own because that’s what Celestials do. We’re strong. We don’t need help." Her voice cracked. "But he was a child. He was ten years old when it started, Seris."

Seris was quiet for a long moment. Then she reached over and placed her hand on top of Sylvia’s, her touch light and cool. "You cannot change the past," Seris said softly. "You can only be better now."

Sylvia looked at her. Seris’s crimson eyes were steady, calm, and there was something in them that looked almost like understanding.

"That’s what Leo said," Sylvia murmured. "More or less."

"Then perhaps you should listen to him."

Sylvia let out a breath and leaned her head against Seris’s shoulder. The other girl didn’t pull away. She just sat there, still and quiet, letting Sylvia take what comfort she could from her presence.

"I don’t know what happened to him in that trial," Sylvia said. "He mentioned a village, something called Wayford? And a girl. Someone he couldn’t save." She swallowed hard. "He’s carrying something heavy, Seris. Something that’s changing him and I don’t know how to help."

Seris was silent for a moment. Then she said, "...Sometimes people don’t need help. They just need someone to stand beside them while they figure it out on their own."

Sylvia closed her eyes. "When did you get so wise?"

"I have always been wise. You simply never noticed."

Sylvia laughed.

They sat like that for a while, watching the moonlight shift across the floor, listening to the distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The silence was comfortable. Finally, Seris stood up and smoothed her dress. "I should go. You need rest, and tomorrow will be a long day."

Sylvia nodded. "Thank you for being here."

Seris paused at the door and looked back. Her eyes were soft in the moonlight, and her lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "If you need anything, just know that I am here," she said. Then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.

Sylvia sat alone in her room, lost in her thoughts when a soft knock came at the door. Sylvia looked up, confused. "Come in."

The door opened, and Leo stepped inside.

He looked terrible. His white hair was a mess, falling across his face in tangled strands, and there were dark circles under his eyes that hadn’t been there that morning. His clothes were rumpled, and his shoulders were slumped, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days even though it had only been a few hours.

He paused in the doorway, his ocean-blue eyes meeting hers, and neither of them spoke.

"..."

"..."

The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncertain, filled with all the things they hadn’t said and all the things they didn’t know how to say.

Finally, Leo stepped forward. "Can I... sit?"

Sylvia nodded, and he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, leaving a careful distance between them. He stared at his hands for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet and rough.

"...I’m sorry."

Sylvia blinked. "What?"

"For almost killing you." Leo’s jaw tightened. "That was... I didn’t mean to lose control. I didn’t even realize I was losing control until Father grabbed my wrist. One moment I was fighting, and the next..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. "The flames are dangerous, more dangerous than I thought. And I need to learn how to control them before I hurt someone I care about."

Sylvia watched him for a long moment. She could see the guilt written across his face, the shame in his eyes, the weight of what he had almost done pressing down on his shoulders.

"I’m sorry too," she said finally.

Leo looked up, surprised.

"You were right. I wasn’t there when you needed me," she continued. "I let you drown while I lived my life and pretended everything was fine." She swallowed hard.

"You were right. About all of it. I should have stood up for you. I should have cut out those maids’ tongues and beaten those noble kids until they couldn’t speak your name without flinching. I should have told everyone that you were my brother and I was proud of you."

Leo stared at her, and she could see something shift in his expression, the coldness fading, replaced by something softer.

"I wasn’t trying to be right," Leo said quietly. "I was just... tired. I am tired of pretending everything was fine, smiling and nodding and acting like the whispers didn’t hurt. I hate being the failure that everyone expected me to be."

"You’re not a failure, Leo."

"I know." He looked at her, and for the first time since he had come back from the trial, his eyes didn’t look hollow. "I’m not that kid anymore. I’ve earned the right to stand here. I’ve earned the right to call myself a Celestial."

Sylvia felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back. "You always had that right, Leo. You just didn’t believe it."

She stood up from the bed and walked to where he was sitting. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, her arms wrapping around him tightly, and she felt him hesitate for just a moment before his arms came up to hold her back.

"...Don’t disappear again," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "Don’t shut us out and make us wonder if you’re alive or dead."

Leo’s arms tightened around her. "...I’ll try."

"That’s all I ask."

They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other in the moonlight, and when they finally pulled apart, Sylvia could see that Leo’s eyes were wet. He wiped them quickly, looking away, and she pretended not to notice.

"So," she said, her voice light, forcing a small smile. "The gala is in a few days. Are you going?"

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Of course I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?"

"Because you’re you. And you tend to attract chaos wherever you go."

"Oh hey! I don’t attract chaos. Chaos follows me because it has good taste."

Sylvia snorted. "Sure. That’s definitely the reason."

They were quiet for a moment, and then Leo said, "There are going to be a lot of people there. Nobles. Foreign dignitaries. The Emperor." He ran a hand through his hair. "And they’re all going to be whispering about me. The failure who came back from the dead. The anomaly who survived the trial. The white-haired freak who doesn’t know his place."

Sylvia reached out and punched him in the shoulder. Not hard, but enough to get his attention.

"Stop that," she said. "You’re a Celestial. You don’t care what people whisper about you. You walk into that room with your head held high, and you make them remember why our name means something."

Leo rubbed his shoulder, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. "When did you get so supportive?"

"I’ve always been supportive. You just never noticed."

Sylvia looked at him for a long moment, and she felt something settle in her chest. Things weren’t perfect. They weren’t even close to perfect. There was still so much they hadn’t said, so much they hadn’t resolved, so much healing that still needed to happen.

But they were better. They were talking and trying.

That was enough for now.

"Don’t do anything stupid at the gala," Sylvia said, her voice serious.

Leo blinked. "When have I ever done anything stupid?"

Sylvia gave him a look. A long, flat, disbelieving look that made Leo shift uncomfortably.

"Don’t give me that look," he said. "I’m being serious."

"So am I." Sylvia crossed her arms. "Don’t tell me you don’t remember."

Leo frowned. "Remember what?"

Sylvia stared at him. Then she sighed, a long and dramatic sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her soul. "You really don’t remember?"

"Remember what, Sylvia? Just tell me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "The princess’s sixteenth birthday party. You got drunk, very drunk. And then you tried to kiss her. In the middle of the ballroom. In front of everyone."

Leo’s face went pale.

"In front of the Emperor," Sylvia continued, her voice flat. "Who, as you know, adores his daughter and would burn the world down for her. If you weren’t a Celestial, and if Father hadn’t intervened, you would have been executed on the spot."

Leo went pale. "I... what? I don’t remember that!"

Damn you, past me. How much crap have you committed, you bastard?

"Don’t do anything stupid at this gala," Sylvia said, laughing.

Leo stood up and stretched. "Fine. I’ll be on my best behavior." As he reached the door, he paused. "Sylvia? Thanks. For being here."

"Always," she replied.

As the door closed, Sylvia lay back.

Things weren’t fixed, but they were better.