The morning air was distinct, laced with a faint scent of rain.

  Clouds hung over Iriduis turning the lively town grey. The streets were quiet, devoid of any activity. On days like this people decided to stay inside, partly for the coldm mostly because everyone knew that Malignants were most active in the mist.

  “What’s her deal?…” Abell croaked, rubbing his eyes.

  He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the rainy sky. He barely slept. The argument from the previous night replayed in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, all he heard was She’s better than you.

  For a while, he just sat there, staring at nothing, sulking and sighing. Watching the rain streak down the glass. The,n movement outside caught his eye, a figure with a lazy stride walking up to their home.

  Hugo?

  Great. Just what I need.

  "Whatever. I still need to get up."

  Abell forced himself up and headed down the stairs. Each step felt heavier than normal, his body still aching from yesterday’s battle with the Malignants. The cut on his arm throbbed beneath Astrid’s bandage.

  When he neared the bottom, he saw Keeko standing at the hearth, turning slices of white bread on a pan. The scent hit his nose, warm and fresh and inviting. Normally, he’d run to eat, but today was different; his pride wouldn’t let him.

  Maybe I should sneak past her. Or... maybe I should just eat with her.

  He glanced at the door. Then at his mother's back.

  Stealth it is.

  He crept forward, placing each step carefully. His mother's back was still turned, if he could just reach the door...

  "Morning," she said, not looking at him.

  That's all she's got to say? The frustration within him began to rise slowly. He wanted to demand that they talk about it. To force her to listen to him and allow him to prove himself, but he didn’t know how to.

  "Abell, the food's almost ready. Are you hungry?" She finally turned, forcing a smile that felt like a mask.

  He gritted his teeth. "I'll eat at the tavern," he muttered, brushing past her toward the door.

  She barely reacted, her shoulders sagging slightly as she turned back to the hearth. "Okay then," she sighed. "Be careful out there. It's a rainy day with lots of mist. Come home early, okay, son?"

  “Still treating me like a weakling, mother? Abell scoffed and reached for the door, yanking it open.

  He nearly ran straight into Hugo.

  The Luminary stood in the doorway, fist raised mid-knock, still wearing his night clothes. His white hair was slightly damp from the rain, and those star-shaped pupils gleamed with their usual amusement. He looked even more relaxed than yesterday for whatever reason.

  "Well, this is awkward," Hugo said. That easy grin was spreading across his face. "Good morning, guys."

  Keeko's forced pleasantness evaporated in an instant. Her expression went cold. “What do you want now?"

  "Just a chat." He looked past Abell. "Mind giving us a minute, kid?"

  Abell's jaw tightened. "I was leaving anyway." He shoved the door wider and stepped out.

  Hugo caught his arm before he could leave, leaning in slightly. "I know something's off here. Don't worry, I'll fix it," he whispered.

  Like you can fix anything, Abell thought bitterly.

  He pulled his arm free and walked away without responding, the rain immediately misting against his face as he headed down the path. Behind him, he could hear Hugo stepping inside and the door closing, muffling whatever conversation was about to happen.

  He didn't look back.

  “So….” Hugo started, barely holding onto his grin. “I’d like to discuss Abell joining the academy, Keeko.”

  Keeko’s expression soured further. “There’s nothing to discuss.” She set down the spatula, turning to face him fully. “He’s far too weak.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Hugo said, pushing off the wall. “He’s too talented to rot here.”

  Keeko shook her head. “So? You know why I left, Hugo. I refuse to be part of the Luminary system or this war. And now you want my son dragged into it.”

  “I think not.”

  “He’s got potential,” Hugo countered. “More than you realize. His Lux alone—”

  “I’m not risking another child,” Keeko snapped.

  “I already lost Genevieve to this life. I won’t lose him, too.”

  Only the rain against the windowsill broke the silence that lingered. Hugo didn’t want to interrupt. He couldn’t claim to understand the pain she carried, but it was impossible to miss.

  Hugo’s usual smirk faded before he spoke. “If you're worried about his strength…”

  Keeko’s voice cracked. “It’s not about strength. I just want him to be safe. I kept him away from that world for a reason. Now you’re asking me to bring him into it?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Hugo's gaze didn’t waver. “Did you really keep him away? You taught him how to fight. How to face malignants. Even use his Lux. You knew this peace wouldn’t last forever.

  A long silence followed.

  Then, quietly, Hugo placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “I won’t pretend to understand what you carry as a mother. But I think sometimes kids just have to choose their path.”

  Keeko said nothing. She didn't need to. The answer was already written in the silence between them.

  The rain soaked through Abell's shirt as he walked toward the tavern.

  Dammit.

  His mother's words kept replaying. Hugo's promise to "fix it." Usually, he could shove this stuff down and ignore it. Not today. Today, it was clawing at him, demanding attention he didn't want to give.

  Abell pushed open the tavern door, the scent of wet stone and fresh bread drifting into his nose. A few people sat by the bar, speaking in low voices. The fireplace crackled softly, casting shadows across the walls.

  He approached the counter with confidence, already knowing what he wanted to eat on a day like this. “I’ll take some bread and stew,” he said, bluntly.

  The figure behind the counter took their time before turning around, clearly displeased with Abell for some reason.

  “I knew that was you, Abell.” The person said, frowning. “What did I tell ya about yer manners?”

  Abell let out a visible sigh, looking down at his feet. “Good morning, Mira… may I have some bread and stew, please?

  Mira, the tavern owner, raised an eyebrow. Her red hair was tied back under a bandana, sleeves rolled to her elbows. She wiped a mug, studying him.

  “You doing alright? You seem gloomier than usual.” She questioned, adjusting her bandana. “Keeko kick you out again?” she asked, smirking.

  "Something like that," Abell muttered.

  If only it were that simple.

  “Well, it seems like something serious. I won’t pry, but if anything comes up, talk to me, okay.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Abell said.

  While he waited, he scanned the tavern. A few familiar faces, the town elder nursing ale, some guardsmen playing cards, and near the back, Astrid and Misha.

  A few moments passed, and his meal was ready.

  “Here ya go! Enjoy,” Mira said, smiling.”

  “Thanks.”

  As he walked, looking for an empty seat. The very joyful Misha disrupted any ideas of peace he had.

  Misha’s face lit up with excitement, and he waved wildly towards him. “Abell! Over here!”

  Astrid gave him a small smile, patting the seat beside her.

  Ehh, why not?

  “Wow! This is the first time you’ve willingly sat with us, Abell,” Astrid said, adjusting her hair.

  “It’s only because I’m here, big sis, I’m his apprentice.” Misha proclaimed, standing up in his seat.

  “Misha, get down from there!” Astrid yelled.

  Never a dull moment with these two.

  "What are you doing sitting there?" a voice said from across the table.

  Abell looked up from his stew.

  A figure sat at the far end, arms draped lazily over the backrest, one leg kicked out like he owned the place. His dark hair clung to his forehead from the rain, and that familiar smirk.

  Torrin.

  "I asked, ' Why are you sitting there?" Torrin's tone was light, casual, but his eyes weren't. They flicked between Abell and Astrid with something sharp behind them.

  "I'm eating. Obviously," Abell said, taking another spoonful just to make the point.

  "Funny. I don't remember saying you could sit next to Astrid."

  Astrid groaned, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Torrin, seriously? Not now." Her usual brightness was gone, replaced by exhaustion. She'd clearly dealt with this before.

  Misha had gone quiet, shrinking into his seat. His eyes darted between the two older boys like he was watching a fuse burn toward an explosion.

  "Hmph. Whatever." Torrin leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes fixed on Astrid with an intensity that made Abell's jaw tighten. "I'm just looking out for you. Protecting you from idiots who can't handle themselves." His gaze slid to Abell. "Aren't you tired of patching up this sorry excuse of a Luminary?"

  "Torrin—" Astrid started, but he wasn't done.

  "I'm just saying." Torrin's voice dropped, quieter but somehow sharper. "Big sis Genny never needed people bailing her out. She was the real deal. A prodigy." He tilted his head, studying Abell like he was comparing him to something and finding him lacking. "Not like some people."

  The spoon bent slightly in Abell's grip. His knuckles went white. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

  Torrin's smirk widened. "You struggled yesterday, didn't you? Against those Malignants. From what I heard, you almost died." He shrugged, leaning back again. "Doesn't seem like you're anywhere near Genevieve's level. Not even close."

  The words hit like a fist to the gut. Abell's jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt. A slow burn built behind his eyes, threatening to spill over into something he couldn't take back.

  Don't. Don't give him the satisfaction.

  "Seriously, can we not do this here?" Astrid rubbed her temple harder, looking between them with growing concern.

  "Just being honest." Torrin spread his hands like he was being reasonable. "Someone's gotta say it."

  The tavern had gone quiet. The low hum of conversation died. A few heads turned their way. Even the guardsmen playing cards had stopped to watch.

  Abell set his spoon down. Slowly and carefully as the metal clinked against the bowl louder than it should have in the sudden silence.

  "Don't compare me to her." His voice came out low, tight, barely controlled. "If you want to fight, we can settle this right now."

  The whole table tensed, even Misha stopped breathing. The boys were standing face to face neither with neither one backing down.

  "Oi! Torrin! Abell!" Mira's voice cracked through the tension like a whip. She stood behind the counter, hands on her hips, glaring at both of them. "No fighting in my tavern! You want to kill each other, take it outside!"

  Torrin stood up, readying himself. Tempting offer, Abell. Real tempting." He stretched, rolling his shoulders. "But I've got errands to run for my old man. Can't keep the forge waiting."

  He started toward the door, boots heavy on the wooden floor. Then he paused, hand on the doorframe, and glanced back over his shoulder.

  "We'll settle this soon enough, Abell. Real soon. See ya."

  The door swung shut behind him, letting in a gust of cold, rain-scented air before closing with a dull thud.

  "Coward," Misha whispered under his breath, just loud enough to hear.

  "Misha, don't start," Astrid warned, shooting him a look that said not helping.

  Abell stared at the door, fists still clenched on the table. The heat in his chest hadn't faded. If anything, it had gotten worse, spreading through his arms, making his whole body feel like it was vibrating with barely contained rage.

  Genevieve wouldn't have needed saving. Genevieve was better. Genevieve, Genevieve, Genevieve.

  "Don't let him get to you," Astrid said gently, her hand hovering near his arm but not quite touching. "Genevieve was special. Everyone knew that. But you're special too, Abell. In your own way."

  He picked up his spoon. Stabbed at the stew.

  "Yeah. Whatever."

  But the food tasted like trash now. His appetite was gone, replaced by a feeling he knew all to well. Being underestimated and compared to his Saint-like sister. It's like he couldn't get away.

  We'll settle this soon, Torrin.

  Nanashi out...