"A hero," he mused, leaning back in his seat as his gaze flicked playfully toward Arya. "Heroes are loved by everyone.. and fans."
Arya’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but her smile didn’t waver. "Lots of it. I think you already have a few followers."
"And are you one of them?" Zaeryn teased.
Arya looked away, her blush deepening. "No, I’m just your guardian," she said, though in truth, she’d been thinking about him far too often since their kiss. Part of her wished she were more than that.
After that, silence took over as the cruiser humd through the city, its sleek fra gliding past towering spires that pulsed with Vitae-infused light. Inside, the air was thick with the weight of Zaeryn’s revelation.
Mireille and Arya were still processing his explanation. Understanding him ant understanding what he was capable of.
Mireille’s icy blue eyes flicked between the navigation display and Zaeryn’s reflection in the rearview. Arya, seated beside him, leaned forward, her warm gaze now sharp with curiosity, her fingers tapping a restless rhythm on her knee.
Mireille broke the silence, her voice asured but laced with a challenge. "So, how do you do it, Zaeryn? Mimickers don’t all tap into Vitae the sa way. So need physical contact to siphon energy—skin-to-skin, like a leech. Others require a ritual, blood or symbols drawn under starlight. A rare few can pull it off just by observing a technique long enough. Which is it for you?"
Zaeryn leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin that was equal parts cocky and charming. The Lyceum uniform hugged his fra, accentuating the lean strength, and he knew both won noticed. "Sotis it needs skin to skin contact," he said, letting the words hang for a beat, savoring their anticipation. "I mimic powers through... connection."
The cruiser seed to lurch, though Mireille’s hands hadn’t moved. She and Arya exchanged a glance, quick, sharp, and dripping with disbelief.
Arya was the first to break, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up. "Zaeryn, that’s... the most creative excuse for being a flirt I’ve ever heard."
"But it’s not an excuse. It’s the truth. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s how it works."
"Connection," Mireille repeated, her tone flat as a blade. "With beautiful won."
"Yup," Zaeryn said, undeterred, his grin widening. "And trust , it’s not as easy as it sounds."
Arya snorted, covering her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusent. "You’re joking, right? That’s not a real thing."
"Oh, it’s for real," Zaeryn said, leaning forward now, his voice dropping into a smooth, almost conspiratorial drawl. He propped an elbow on the seat, letting his gaze flick between them, playful but deliberate. "Picture this: I form a deep, aningful connection—heart-to-heart, soul-to-soul, you know, the good stuff. Sotis it’s a kiss, sotis... more. And when the sparks fly, so does the Vitae. Their powers flow into . I keep it, make it mine, permanently."
The cruiser’s hum filled the silence as Mireille and Arya processed his explanation. Arya’s cheeks flushed slightly, her fingers stilling on her knee, while Mireille’s expression hardened, though a faint glint in her eyes betrayed her intrigue.
"You’re telling us," Mireille said slowly, "that you gain permanent powers by... what, seducing won?" Her voice dripped with skepticism, but there was a crack in her usual icy composure—a flicker of sothing that might’ve been amusent or annoyance.
"Yeah, you could call it that."
Arya burst out laughing, her warmth cutting through the tension. "Oh, you’re good, Zaeryn. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and you’re selling it like it’s a sacred art form."
Mireille shook her head, her lips twitching despite herself. "If this is true—and that’s a big if—it’s the most absurd chanism I’ve ever heard of. Your power hinges on romantic entanglents?"
"Call it what you want," Zaeryn said, shrugging. "It works. If you guys don’t believe , we can put it to the test now."
Mireille slowed the cruiser down until it ca to a stop, then swiveled her chair to face him. "Nice try, but no one is going to fall for that trick." She stood up. "We have arrived at the lyceum."
"Well, if you guys don’t want to believe , you can ask the high commander. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone this, but since it’s no longer a secret, I told you."
With a final, confident nod, Zaeryn stepped out of the cruiser.
The doors hissed shut behind him, the sound sealing the mont. He strode onto the Lyceum grounds, the cool morning air hitting him as the cruiser rose and flew away.
Inside, Arya let out a slow, disbelieving breath. "That explanation?" she whispered, turning to Mireille. "Can he really be serious?"
"I don’t think he’s a liar," Mireille said, more to herself than to Arya. "This might explain why the High Commander treats him like this. Why she’s protecting him."
She finally looked at Arya, her blue eyes sharp with a dawning, unsettling realization. "If he’s telling the truth... he’s not just a strategic asset. He’s the most valuable person in the Queendom."
"Yeah." Arya agreed.
Zaeryn, anwhile, walked with a new purpose. The whispers and stares from other students were still there on his second day, a constant hum of disdain and curiosity, but they felt different today. He overheard so students talking about him sparring with Leia.
Three girls were arguing quietly about who won between him and Leia. Although it was clearly a fight he’d lost, they brought up the fact that he was a male with no training, so for him to make the fight challenging for soone as experienced as Leia was impressive.
That wasn’t the only thing being talked about. They were also discussing him kissing Jyn in the cafeteria. So called it hot; others were disgusted.
Yesterday, he was an intruder. Today it was different. He caught a few admiring glances mixed in with the usual sneers.
"Hey, Zaeryn!" soone called out.
He turned to see Jyn waving enthusiastically from a bench near the main tower, her braid catching the morning light. Yuna and Morticia sat beside her. Yuna offered a shy, warm smile—small but genuine.
"Hey," Morticia said, her voice steady, her eyes bright. "I’m Morticia. Rember ? From class yesterday?"
"Yes, I do. You were seated next to Yuna, right?"
"I was. I’m glad you rembered."
"Well... you don’t exactly have a forgettable face," Zaeryn said, letting his grin widen naturally.
Morticia’s cheeks lifted, her smile matching his. "Thank you. And I think you don’t look bad yourself. In fact..." She paused, playful, teasing. "You’re looking very handso today."
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