The fountain sang softly.

  Water spilled over pale stone, catching moonlight in gentle arcs before returning to the basin below. The city around it still bore scars—cracked paving, scorch marks half-scrubbed away—but here, at least, the world pretended it was whole.

  Alicia sat on the fountain’s edge, fingers skimming the surface.

  Luna stood across from her at first.

  Then—after a long moment—she sat too.

  Neither spoke.

  Alicia broke the silence.

  “Do you ever have dreams?” she asked softly.

  Luna turned her head, red eyes narrowing just slightly.

  Alicia lifted her white medallion, the metal catching starlight.

  “Dreams of a man who shares your fate,” she continued. “Someone you feel drawn to without understanding why. As if the world decided long ago you’d orbit the same point.”

  Luna’s gaze lingered on the medallion a heartbeat too long.

  “No,” she said at last.

  Then, more honestly:

  “But I know a man I’m drawn to while awake.”

  Alicia’s lips curved faintly.

  Then her expression steadied.

  “Athena,” she said.

  Luna stiffened.

  “She kept fighting,” Alicia continued. “Even when the others fell. Even when it made no sense.”

  She turned, galaxy-bright eyes meeting crimson.

  “Was that your doing?”

  For once, Luna didn’t smile.

  She didn’t deflect.

  “Yes.”

  Alicia blinked—not shocked by the answer.

  But by how easily it came.

  “I saw the chaos,” Luna said quietly. “And I thought… it would be the perfect moment to take you out.”

  A humorless breath left her.

  “It failed.”

  Alicia let out a small, incredulous laugh.

  “You’re being very honest.”

  “I’m tired of pretending,” Luna snapped.

  Then softer—sharper—

  “We didn’t just have differences, Alicia.”

  She stood abruptly.

  “When we were children, you stole my favorite toy,” Luna said. “And no one believed me. Because you were light and I was… difficult.”

  Alicia opened her mouth—

  But Luna continued.

  “When we were teenagers, I watched you kiss the boy I liked. You said it was rebellion. You said you didn’t even like him.”

  Her voice didn’t tremble with tears.

  It trembled with restraint.

  “People love you for existing,” Luna said. “I am only loved by the ones I force to love me.”

  Alicia’s composure cracked.

  “I don’t need your apology,” Luna continued. “And I won’t give you Lucien.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  She stepped closer, the air cooling between them.

  “My father died because he believed your father,” she whispered. “He was told the Trials were safe again. He won. And he was still chosen to die.”

  Alicia’s breath faltered.

  Luna’s jaw tightened.

  “I’m not sorry for what I did,” she said. “I would do it again.”

  Then, after a beat—

  “But I am sorry for how I did it.”

  Her eyes flickered briefly toward the darkness.

  “It doesn’t suit me.”

  Before Alicia could answer—

  Wings cut through the night.

  Athena landed hard beside the fountain, Valor cradled in her arms, unconscious and bloodied.

  “What happened?” Alicia demanded, already on her feet.

  Athena shook her head. “I don’t know. I found him like this.”

  Luna stepped forward without hesitation.

  She raised her hand.

  Blood answered.

  It flowed beneath Valor’s skin, subtle and controlled, stitching torn muscle, calming shattered breath. The violent tension left his body until he lay sleeping—whole, but drained.

  When she finished, Luna turned away.

  Athena stared after her. “What was that about?”

  Alicia smiled faintly.

  “Her way of apologizing.”

  She gestured gently. “Get him to bed.”

  Athena nodded and took to the air once more.

  Silence returned.

  Alicia sat back down slowly.

  She lifted her medallion again, thumb tracing its edge.

  Light and shadow.

  Past and future.

  Orbiting the same point.

  Then—

  Faintly—

  Steel striking wood.

  Rhythmic.

  Controlled.

  Familiar.

  Alicia closed her eyes briefly.

  “Lucy,” she thought.

  She stood.

  And followed the sound.

  Steel struck wood.

  Again.

  And again.

  Lucien’s blade carved shallow grooves into the training dummy, movements controlled—measured—not weak, but restrained. As if he were holding something back.

  Not strength.

  Thought.

  Sweat traced his jaw. His shadow clung close, restless, stretching and recoiling with each strike.

  “Lucy.”

  The voice came from behind him.

  Soft.

  Familiar.

  Lucien froze.

  His breath caught as he turned—

  And for one fractured heartbeat, the world shifted.

  She stood beneath the tree at the edge of the yard.

  Tall. Still. Impossible.

  Long pale hair shimmered like frozen moonlight. Skin untouched by time. And her eyes—

  Clockwork.

  White and violet spirals turning slowly within their pupils. Marking moments that did not belong to this world.

  “Leuk—”

  Lucien blinked.

  The vision shattered.

  Alicia stood there instead. Silver hair catching the last of the dusk. Concern plain on her face.

  “Hey,” she said gently. “You okay?”

  Lucien stared a moment too long.

  “…Yeah,” he answered, lowering his blade. “Just training.”

  She studied him. “We haven’t sparred in a while. With everything going on.”

  A beat.

  “You healed like you promised?”

  He gave a faint smile. “About sixty percent. Mini-trial didn’t help.”

  Her lips curved—then softened.

  “And you?” he asked. “Your light isn’t shining as bright as usual.”

  Alicia stilled.

  Not even Athena had noticed.

  “…Overuse,” she admitted. “Too many battles. I’ll recover.”

  Lucien’s gaze drifted—to the white medallion at her throat.

  “Why do you want to become queen of the Angels of Time?” he asked quietly.

  The question surprised her.

  She didn’t answer immediately.

  Instead, she walked to the old stone bench beneath the tree and patted the space beside her. Lucien followed.

  Close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed.

  “I’ve never been there,” she said at last. “Not in body.”

  She glanced at him.

  “But I’ve seen it.”

  “In dreams?”

  She nodded. “I dream often. Do you?”

  “Mostly nightmares.”

  A sad smile touched her lips. She leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.

  Lucien tensed—

  Then let himself breathe.

  “I saw that faction frozen,” she whispered. “But not like it is now. I saw them moving. Laughing. Living.”

  Her fingers curled into the fabric at his side.

  “I saw peace. And I don’t know why… but it feels like something I’m meant to fix.”

  Lucien swallowed.

  “And your father?” he asked. “Won’t he be angry if you choose that path?”

  “My father doesn’t decide my fate,” Alicia said calmly. “Only the gods do.”

  Her gaze drifted upward.

  “He wants me beside him. He already holds two heroes. Two rulers under one banner isn’t peace.”

  She turned to Lucien.

  “If I can’t win… I’d want you. Or Dialos. Or Leon.”

  “Balance matters more than pride.”

  Lucien studied her.

  “I respect that,” he said.

  Then, softer—

  “But sometimes you have to be selfish to get what you want.”

  Alicia’s breath hitched.

  She searched his face carefully.

  “Will you allow me to be selfish?” she asked.

  Lucien didn’t fully understand.

  Still—

  He nodded.

  Alicia leaned in.

  The kiss was gentle. Hesitant.

  But when their lips met—

  Light and shadow folded together like something ancient remembering itself.

  Neither pulled away.

  Their medallions glowed.

  White.

  Black.

  Quiet.

  Unnoticed.

  When Alicia finally leaned back, her smile was soft. Almost reverent.

  “Goodnight, Lucy.”

  She left him beneath the tree.

  Lucien sat there long after.

  Heart racing.

  The kiss felt older than memory.

  Like something he had been waiting for across lifetimes.

  Far away—

  Deep beneath the Shadowborn castle—

  Serena unlocked a chamber long sealed.

  Stone groaned.

  Dust shifted.

  And in the dark below—

  Something stirred.