The university lecture hall was vast and modern — tiered seating rising in smooth rows, wide glass windows letting in the late afternoon sun.
Screens glowed with projected diagrams. Students murmured, tapping on tablets and laptops.
Aurelia sat near the center row.
Her posture was straight. Composed.
Her long hair was tied back neatly, exposing the elegant line of her neck. A few strands framed her face.
Her eyes—
Pink.
Not unnaturally bright.
Just faintly glowing. Like embers beneath ash.
No one paid attention.
They never did.
At the front, the professor droned on about thermodynamics.
Irony.
Behind Aurelia, a chair scraped deliberately.
A voice leaned forward, low and mocking.
"Hey, glowstick."
She didn't turn.
A pen tapped against the back of her chair.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Does it light up brighter when you're mad?"
Snickers from nearby seats.
Aurelia inhaled slowly.
"Stop," she said calmly.
The tapping stopped.
For two seconds.
Then—
A paper ball hit the side of her head.
Laughter.
She stood.
The room quieted slightly as she walked down the steps toward the professor.
"Sir," she said evenly, "he keeps disrupting the lecture."
The professor barely glanced up from his slides.
"Handle it like adults," he said dismissively. "Sit down."
A few students chuckled.
Heat flickered in her eyes.
She returned to her seat.
Behind her—
"Aw," the boy mocked softly. "Teacher didn't save you?"
Another paper ball landed in her hair.
Something inside her chest tightened.
Her fingers curled against the desk.
Her element wasn't water.
Wasn't air.
It was fire.
And fire did not like being mocked.
The boy leaned forward again.
"Maybe if you cry your eyes will glow brighter."
More laughter.
That was when it almost slipped.
The air around her grew warmer.
Subtly.
Almost unnoticeable.
A student nearby frowned slightly. "Is it hot in here?"
Aurelia closed her eyes.
Breathed in.
Breathed out.
When she opened them—
The pink glow deepened.
Just a shade.
Behind her, the boy's backpack sat half-open on the floor.
Fabric.
Paper.
Plastic.
All very flammable.
She didn't move.
She didn't turn.
She simply let her anger focus.
Controlled.
Precise.
A spark.
Small.
Deep inside the lining of the bag.
No flame visible at first.
Just heat.
The boy's backpack caught fire.
Flames licked through the zipper.
Students gasped.
Smoke curled toward the ceiling.
The professor shouted.
The boy panicked.
And Aurelia sat there, calm, untouched, watching the fire bloom exactly where she willed it—
"Aurelia!"
She blinked sharply.
The classroom snapped back into focus.
No smoke.
No fire.
No shouting.
Just chairs scraping against the floor.
Students packing up.
The lecture was over.
Elias was leaning toward her, round glasses slightly askew from how quickly he had turned.
"You were gone," he said gently. "Class ended like three minutes ago."
She glanced behind her.
The boy's backpack sat perfectly intact on the floor.
No scorch marks.
No smoke.
Just fabric.
She exhaled quietly.
"I'm fine," she said.
Elias studied her face carefully. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead as he tilted his head.
Today he wore a soft gray cardigan over a pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled neatly, a messenger bag strap crossing his chest.
Ink stains dotted his fingers again.
"You looked… intense," he admitted.
"I was thinking."
"About setting someone on fire?"
She gave him a look.
He immediately raised both hands defensively. "Academically. I meant academically."
A small breath of amusement escaped her.
They packed their things and stepped out into the late afternoon light.
The campus buzzed with movement — students laughing, bikes rolling past, the scent of coffee drifting from a nearby café.
Elias adjusted his glasses again as they walked down the steps.
"I'm heading to the studio," he said. "The art department is staying open late. Want to come? I'm working on that charcoal series."
She hesitated.
Normally, she would.
But tonight—
"I have things to do," she replied calmly.
He nodded, not pushing. "Mysterious things?"
"Just things."
He smiled softly. "Alright."
They reached the walkway where they usually parted.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a familiar, easy hug.
Not awkward.
Not hesitant.
Just warm.
She hugged him back just as naturally.
"You overthink too much," he murmured lightly.
"You observe too much," she replied.
He pulled back with a small grin.
"Text me if you accidentally commit arson."
She gave him a flat look.
"I won't."
"That's what worries me."
She shook her head faintly, but there was the slightest curve to her lips.
Then she turned and walked down the path, her tied-back hair swaying gently with each step.
Elias watched her go for a moment.
Her posture was calm.
Controlled.
But as she disappeared beyond the trees—
The faint pink glow in her eyes returned.
Soft.
Ember-like.
And far from harmless.
Evening settled gently over the city.
Streetlights flickered on one by one. Cars hummed past. The air carried the scent of roasted corn from a roadside stand.
Aurelia walked down the sidewalk, hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. Her hair was still tied back, heels clicking lightly against the pavement.
Calm.
Composed.
Then—
She bumped into something solid.
Not "person on their phone" solid.
Wall solid.
She stepped back.
"…Excuse—"
White hair.
Red eyes.
A black hat tilted low.
Lucien.
He adjusted the brim casually like this was a normal sidewalk encounter.
She grabbed his sleeve immediately and dragged him into the narrow space between two buildings.
"What are you doing on Earth?!" she hissed.
Lucien blinked at her once. Slowly.
"I am walking."
"Don't do that."
"Walking?"
"Existing here."
He folded his arms calmly. "I came to see the princess."
Aurelia stared.
"…Excuse me?"
He tilted his head slightly. "She attends this school."
Her eyes widened. "You enrolled in a human school to stalk royalty?"
"I am not stalking."
"You said princess."
"It is a title."
"She is a minor."
Lucien paused.
"…That is unfortunate timing."
Aurelia slapped a hand over her face.
"You cannot just show up on Earth whenever you feel like it! What if my parents find out you're here? What if Caelen does?"
Lucien crossed his arms more firmly.
"Caelen already knows I am here."
She froze.
"…What?"
He gave a small, unimpressed look. "I am simply glad he has not killed me yet."
Aurelia blinked twice.
Then sighed.
"He's sparing you."
Lucien's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Sparing?"
"Yes. As in choosing not to eliminate you."
Lucien considered that.
"…How generous of him."
"Do not sound sarcastic. He would absolutely win."
Lucien looked almost offended.
"We would be evenly matched."
She gave him a long look.
"Lucien."
"…Possibly evenly matched."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Be serious. You're walking around Earth like this is a field trip."
"I am being discreet."
"You are wearing a black coat, a hat, and you smell like spider lilies and iron."
"That is subtle."
"That is suspicious."
He looked mildly irritated.
Aurelia stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"If Father finds out you're here without permission, do you know what happens?"
Lucien was quiet.
"…Diplomatic tension," he said flatly.
"You'll be ash."
Silence.
He adjusted his hat slightly.
"I will be careful."
"You say that like you're not currently attending a human high school."
"I blend well."
"You glow."
"I do not."
"You absolutely glow."
He looked down at himself.
"That may be the lighting."
She exhaled sharply.
"I'm going home. And you—"
She poked his chest lightly.
"—stay out of trouble."
"I am not trouble."
"You are a walking international incident."
He almost smiled at that.
Almost.
As she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she paused.
"And Lucien?"
"Yes."
"If Caelen challenges you…"
"I know."
"Run."
Lucien looked mildly offended again.
"I do not run."
She raised a brow.
"…Strategically retreat."
He considered that.
"…I will consider it."
She shook her head and walked away.
Behind her, Lucien stood under the streetlight, red eyes faintly glowing beneath the brim of his hat.
"…Humans," he muttered.
But he stayed exactly where she left him—
Trying very hard not to look like trouble.