The Prodigies

It didn’t take long for Celestia’s circle of admirers to join the fray.

At lunch, when Serenya sat down at a half-empty table, two girls in pristine robes blocked her with their trays.

“This seat is reserved,” one sniffed.
“Not for failures,” the other added sweetly.

Serenya arched a brow. “Strange. I didn’t see your name carved into the wood.”

Gasps and giggles. One of the girls flushed scarlet but before she could retort, Celestia herself swept into the hall.

She was radiant, as always—sunlight seemed to bend toward her, her golden hair catching the glow of enchanted chandeliers. She smiled at everyone she passed, receiving bows and blushes in return.

When her gaze landed on Serenya, the smile faltered a bit.

“Lady Arclight, I’m Celestia of House Dawncrest,” she said warmly, loud enough for the room to hear. “Do let me know if you need help with your lessons. It must be difficult when the basics are… beyond you.”

Laughter rippled across the hall. But to Serenya’s surprise, Celestia’s expression cooled, and with a single glance, the mocking chuckles died down. Serenya hadn’t expected the prodigy of Dawncrest to wield this kind of presence.

Her lips curved into a dangerous smile.

“Thank you for the offer, Lady Dawncrest. But I’d hate to slow you down. After all—” she leaned back in her chair, unbothered—“you wouldn’t want to fall behind me.”

The laughter turned sharp—half-shocked, half-thrilled at her audacity. Celestia’s eyes narrowed slightly before her perfect smile slid neatly back into place.

The game had begun.

“Thank you for your concern, but that wouldn’t happen,” she replied with a faintly scornful edge. “Anyway, I only came by to introduce myself.” She turned to the girls who had insulted Serenya moments ago. “Also, why don’t you let Lady Arclight be? It’s better to work on your own shortcomings than to bother those who are already struggling, don’t you think?”

If Serenya had said those words, she would have been called rude. But coming from Celestia, they sounded graceful—concern wrapped in mockery.

Celestia had an image to maintain, but beneath that polish was a prideful and competitive spirit. She hated losing—especially to the lesser houses.

But Serenya wasn’t here to play petty games, nor to befriend Celestia. The world would burn first before that happens. Her true goal lay elsewhere, and that is to uncover the truth of her strange magic. And for that, she needed access to House Lunaris’ Library of Memories.

Which meant she needed to befriend the heir of that house—Cordelia Lunaris.

✦

The library of Arclight Academy was a cathedral of knowledge—vaulted ceilings, glass domes spilling moonlight across rows of ancient tomes. Serenya preferred it to the noisy dining halls, where whispers always trailed behind her like gnats. Here, silence was sacred.

But tonight, she wasn’t alone.

In the farthest alcove, a girl with pale pink hair bent over a stack of books twice her height. Her robes were spotless, though plainer than most, and she moved with the careful grace of someone who didn’t want to be noticed.

Serenya recognized her instantly.

Cordelia Lunaris—the miracle commoner, adopted by House Lunaris after demonstrating a rare affinity for water magic so deep it had scholars debating if she was a reincarnation of one of their founders. The same Cordelia who had claimed first place in the written entrance exams, a feat that left Celestia Dawncrest seething behind her perfect smile.

Serenya approached her gradually. Cordelia flinched at the sound, closing her book halfway as though to hide behind it.

“Lady Arclight,” she greeted softly, her voice like ripples over still water. She dipped her head, almost too low for someone who bore the Lunaris crest on her robes. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your studies.”

Serenya tilted her head, amused. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing. But it looks like you’re studying enough for the both of us.”

A faint flush colored Cordelia’s cheeks. “I… I like to be thorough.”

“Thorough is an understatement, my friend” Serenya replied, her gaze flicking to the array of advanced theory tomes Cordelia had already annotated. Half the professors would struggle with these texts. “You’re not just thorough. Seems like you’re prepared to win.”

She stiffened, glancing down at her clasped hands. Serenya’s words were subtle, but it seemed Cordelia already understood what she meant.

“It’s not about winning. I’m doing this because it’s the only thing I’m good at…” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Even if the other nobles never stop reminding me that I don’t belong here…”

Did Celestia talk to her? Serenya wondered.

Serenya leaned against the edge of the table, studying her carefully. The timid posture, the humility—it wasn’t weakness. It was survival. A clever girl hiding her brilliance just enough not to provoke too many wolves at once. But gifted people like her weren’t meant to stay in the shadows. Her brilliance—and the envy it stirred to people—would drive her into the spotlight no matter where she went.

That was the curse of being brilliant, to be envied and admired in equal measure. And Serenya suspected Cordelia was already feeling the weight of that burden after beating Celestia Dawncrest.

“Listen,” Serenya said lightly, “people like Celestia Dawncrest will never like you because you remind her that perfection isn’t hers alone. And those spoiled nobles? They’ll always hate you because you prove how pitiful their so-called ‘talents’ are compared to a commoner like you.”

Cordelia’s head snapped up, her blue eyes wide. Serenya smiled—not cruelly, but with the calm certainty that drew others in.

“I think you and I,” she continued, “understand what it means to be underestimated, to be told we don’t belong. And I think… that makes us dangerous in the eyes of someone like Celestia Dawncrest.”

Cordelia blinked, then let out a nervous laugh she quickly smothered. “…You’re strange, Lady Arclight.” Then, almost shyly, she added, “Talent recognizes talent,” quoting Cornelius Arclight.

“I’m surprised you know those words.”

“The Book of Talents, yes… Cornelius Arclight was a phenomenal writer.”

“Too bad his talents were never recognized by the world.”

“Anyway. It was good meeting you, Lady Lunaris. I’ll see you in class.” Serenya straightened, gathering a book from the shelf. “Good day.”

As she turned away, Serenya caught the faintest spark of curiosity in Cordelia’s eyes—still timid, but no longer closed off. She smiled because that’s exactly what she needed.