A Shocking Descent: The Fall That Changed Everything

Lucian's POV:

Celeste’s father, Lord Edric Valemont, stood as a paragon of authority. Tall and broad-shouldered, his impeccably tailored suit reflected his meticulous nature, and his sharp gaze could pierce through even the most fortified facades. As the Head of Authority at Vortex Academy and a prominent figure in my father’s ministry, he was not a man to be taken lightly.

“Ah, Lucian,” he greeted with a calculated smile, his voice carrying the weight of command. “It’s good to see you here tonight. Your father speaks highly of your progress.”

“Lord Valemont,” I replied, nodding respectfully while keeping my tone measured. “I trust my performance continues to meet his expectations.”

“Indeed,” he said, his eyes briefly narrowing as if gauging my sincerity. “King Drakos is an exceptional ruler. His vision for the Elements Kingdom has always been...ambitious. It’s only fitting his heir carries that same tenacity.”

I inclined my head slightly, unwilling to give too much away. “My father’s vision is unmatched, and I intend to uphold the legacy he has built.”

Lord Valemont’s lips curved faintly, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And yet, it’s a burden as much as it is a privilege, isn’t it? Balancing power with control, duty with personal desires. I’ve seen many falter under the weight.”

“I won’t falter,” I said firmly, the subtle flicker of nerves from earlier extinguished in the heat of my resolve.

“Good,” he said, his gaze lingering on me, then darting briefly to Celeste, who was practically glued to my side. “You have a unique position, Lucian—both as a prince and as a leader among your peers. At Vortex Academy, the students look to you for guidance, whether they say it aloud or not.”

“Leadership is earned, not given,” I replied, a sharp edge creeping into my tone.

Lord Valemont chuckled lightly, a low sound that hinted at amusement and warning all at once. “Spoken like your father. Though, I daresay, he might have preferred a bit more compliance in his youth. You remind me of him, Lucian—sharp, determined, and, occasionally, defiant.”

The mention of my father hung in the air like a challenge. I felt Celeste shift beside me, clearly delighted to be part of the conversation, but I didn’t indulge her. My eyes flicked back to where Aria stood. Her head turned slightly, her gaze still distant, and I felt an inexplicable pull.

Lord Valemont followed my gaze, his expression tightening ever so slightly, a flicker of disapproval shadowing his sharp features. His jaw tensed, and for a brief moment, his perfectly composed demeanor faltered. “Ah, young Aria,” he said, his tone low and calculating, laced with an unmistakable edge. “She’s... intriguing, isn’t she? A rare blend of grace and mystery. My daughter has mentioned her often.”

“Has she?” I replied, careful to keep my voice neutral, though the underlying tension in his words didn’t escape me.

“Indeed,” Valemont said with a polished smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Celeste often speaks about the academy’s...dynamics. The ever-shifting tides of competition and alliances. Those who rise, and those who inevitably fall.” His gaze flickered back to Aria briefly, his tone sharpening. “She takes her role very seriously, as you must know.”

Beside me, Celeste’s smile was radiant, though the tightening of her grip on my arm betrayed her. “Aria is just... a curiosity,” she said sweetly, but there was an unmistakable edge in her tone.

Before I could respond, Valemont straightened, his sharp eyes sweeping over the room. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to commanding attention, “I must address our esteemed guests.”

With a subtle nod to Celeste and a fleeting glance at me, he stepped away, weaving through the crowd with the kind of effortless confidence that only came from years of practice. The hall seemed to shift in anticipation as he ascended the stage, his presence alone enough to draw every gaze.

The murmur of conversations died down as he approached the microphone. Adjusting it slightly, he surveyed the room with a measured pause before speaking.

Lord Valemont’s voice boomed through the hall, his commanding presence amplified by the microphone. “Students, faculty, and esteemed members of the academy,” he began, and the room fell into an almost reverent silence. His tone was smooth, calculated, and laced with authority—the kind of voice that demanded attention.

I stood near the edge of the room, arms crossed, my eyes flicking between him and the crowd. Valemont had always had a knack for theatrics, his speeches crafted to inspire loyalty while quietly solidifying his grip on power. Tonight was no different.

“It is with great pleasure that I welcome you all to tonight’s celebration,” he continued, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered students and faculty. “In a place where unity and excellence define us, it is crucial to recognize the bonds we share, bonds that go beyond the walls of this academy.”

The crowd hung onto his every word, their attention rapt. Even the chatter in the far corners of the hall had ceased. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words—not because I agreed with them, but because I recognized their purpose. Valemont wasn’t simply addressing the room; he was reminding us all of the order he maintained. His presence in my father’s ministry and his authority over Vortex Academy were tools he wielded masterfully, shaping the narrative to his advantage.

I glanced toward Aria, wondering if she was as taken in by his words as everyone else. Her expression was hard to read from where I stood, but her posture was rigid, as though she were holding her breath. A flicker of curiosity tugged at the back of my mind. Was she impressed? Suspicious? Or perhaps, like me, indifferent to the spectacle.

“And now, my friends,” Valemont continued, a gracious smile spreading across his face, “let us enjoy this evening in the spirit of joy and camaraderie. May the music and dance that follow serve as a reminder of the strength we draw from each other.”

His voice resonated like a final chord, hanging in the air as he stepped back from the microphone. The applause erupted instantly, a thunderous echo that filled the hall. I clapped out of politeness rather than genuine enthusiasm, my attention divided between Valemont’s calculated exit and the crowd’s reaction.

As the festivities began, my gaze found Aria again. Her head tilted slightly, her attention drawn toward the stage, though there was something distracted in her demeanor. She wasn’t clapping—just watching, her expression unreadable.

Lord Valemont descended the stage, his commanding presence unwavering as he disappeared with several members of the academy's authority. Celeste leaned into me, her voice cutting through the applause. “Father has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Indeed,” I said flatly, my eyes still on Aria. Whatever spell Valemont had cast on the crowd, it didn’t seem to have worked on her. That alone intrigued me more than anything else tonight.

The evening dragged on, the weight of expectation pressing heavier with each passing moment. I could feel eyes on me—always watching, always judging. It was part of the burden of who I was, of what I represented. But the only gaze that seemed to matter was hers.

The music shifted, its rhythm deep and pulsing, signaling the beginning of the first formal dance. I didn’t want to, but Celeste was already pulling me onto the floor, her grip like a vice.

She smiled up at me, radiant and self-assured, but I barely saw her. My movements were stiff, automatic, while my gaze kept drifting across the room. And then I found her—Aria—dancing with Ryker.

My jaw tightened. It wasn’t jealousy—it couldn’t be—but something primal and unshakable twisted in my chest. My eyes locked on them as Ryker spun her effortlessly, her laughter breaking through the clamor of voices. It was a sound that made something in me stir, though I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

As if she sensed me watching, Aria’s gaze flicked to mine. For a second, the rest of the room fell away. I couldn’t read her expression—whether it was defiance or curiosity—but it didn’t matter. I was drawn to her all the same.

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Then the music changed.

The choreography demanded we switch partners, and I let Celeste spin away from me without protest. For the briefest second, I stood alone—free—but then she was there. Aria.

She stumbled slightly as she came into my hands, her wide eyes locking onto mine as I caught her. My hand rested on her waist, my fingers brushing the fabric of her gown.

Her other hand instinctively reached for mine, and as our fingers touched, the spark intensified, surging through me like a current I couldn’t escape. It wasn’t just a fleeting sensation—it was raw, electric, and overwhelming, rooting me to the spot.

My grip faltered for a heartbeat, the intensity of it throwing me off balance. Her breath hitched, her gaze mirroring the shock I felt. For a moment, neither of us moved. The bond—whatever it was—crackled in the space between us, too real to ignore.

“You alright?” I managed to say, my voice lower than I intended.

She nodded stiffly, her composure snapping back into place. I forced my own expression into neutrality, though my mind was anything but calm. What the hell was that? She felt it, too—I knew she did.

But there were no answers. Only questions.

The music swirled around us, and we moved together, perfectly in sync despite the storm raging beneath the surface. Her body responded instinctively to mine, every step effortless, every movement seamless. It was as though we’d done this before—a thousand times, in another life.

By the time the final note echoed through the hall, my heart was pounding, my chest tight with something I couldn’t name. I pulled back, my gaze still locked on hers, and for a second, I almost said something. But then reality returned, crashing down around us like a cold wave.

Every eye in the room was on us.

I heard Zane and Ryker’s quiet snickers somewhere to my left. Celeste’s glare burned a hole through me from across the floor, her fury so palpable I could practically feel it. But none of it mattered.

I let her go, my hand falling from her waist, and the absence of her touch felt like an ache I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Celeste’s icy voice sliced through the fading applause as I stepped off the stage. “Lucian.” Sharp. Possessive. Demanding my attention.

I turned reluctantly, meeting her stormy gaze. Zane and Ryker flanked me, their silence heavy, knowing this confrontation wasn’t theirs to intervene in.

“You didn’t look at me once,” she accused, her words cutting and tinged with jealousy. “Your attention was on her the entire time. And now the way you danced with her—so intimate. So… deliberate.”

Her tone was low enough not to draw attention but sharp enough to make me feel cornered. I tried to brush it off, my expression neutral, though my thoughts raced. “Celeste, it was just a dance. You’re overthinking it.”

Her narrowed eyes said she didn’t believe me. “Overthinking? Lucian, everyone saw. They’ll talk.”

“They’ll talk no matter what I do,” I said evenly, though my patience was wearing thin. My gaze drifted, searching for anything but the simmering anger in hers.

Celeste exhaled sharply, her jealousy momentarily giving way to practiced composure. She straightened, forcing a smile for the benefit of onlookers. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

I didn’t respond, letting her words hang in the charged air between us. My patience was already strained, and I wasn’t about to fan the flames further.

Before she could press me again, one of her friends—Livia, I think—glided over, her voice light and cheerful. “Celeste! There you are. We’ve been waiting for you to join us.”

Celeste hesitated, throwing me a lingering glance, but Livia’s insistent tug on her arm broke the moment. With a final, forced smile, she let Livia lead her into the crowd, leaving me alone with Zane and Ryker.

Big mistake.

“Well, that was... entertaining,” Zane drawled, his smirk practically oozing mischief. “You really know how to charm a crowd—and a certain someone—don’t you, Lucian?”

Ryker chuckled, nudging me with his elbow. “Honestly, I was worried you might set the stage on fire with that dance of yours. You and Aria looked like you were in your own little world. A very close world.”

“Drop it,” I said, my tone flat, though I could feel the heat rising to my neck. They weren’t going to let this go easily.

“Oh, come on,” Zane pressed, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “That wasn’t just a dance. That was a statement. Admit it—you had fun.”

“It was a dance,” I repeated through gritted teeth, my jaw tightening. “Nothing more.”

Ryker leaned in, his grin wicked. “Sure, sure. Just a dance. And here I thought you weren’t capable of having a good time. Aria must have some kind of magic touch.”

“Ryker,” I warned, my voice low and dangerous.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, laughing. “Relax. I’m just saying, maybe you should dance like that more often. It’d do wonders for your reputation.”

I shot him a glare but didn’t respond, knowing it would only fuel their teasing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aria moving toward the door, weaving through the crowd with silent grace. She glanced back—at me. For one fleeting moment, her striking blue eyes locked onto mine. But the moment my gaze landed on her, she turned her face away, as if brushing me off.

I didn’t miss the tension in her movements, the way her steps slowed. And just as she neared the exit, she stopped.

What’s wrong? I frowned, my gaze narrowing as I watched her.

Aria stood still in the middle of the bustling hall, her head tilting up ever so slightly. She looked… lost. Her eyes scanned the room, darting from one corner to another, searching for something—or someone. And then, as if something invisible pulled her attention, she turned to the window.

I followed her gaze, confusion bubbling inside me. What is she looking at?

A sharp, resounding crack echoed from above, a sound that reverberated through the entire hall. My head snapped up just in time to see it—a massive, ornate chandelier swaying violently, its anchor giving way. The once-beautiful centerpiece of the hall was now a deadly threat, its crystal edges shimmering ominously as it began its descent, directly aimed at Aria.

The sound from the ceiling was deafening, echoing with an unnatural intensity that cut through the murmurs of the party. Everyone froze. A collective gasp swept through the room, followed by an eerie silence. The vibrant buzz of the celebration came to an abrupt halt. Eyes turned upward, wide with shock and fear, and the entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

“Aria!” Esme’s panicked voice rang out, louder and more desperate. “Move! Aria, look out!”

Behind Esme, Calen was already running, his expression twisted with concern, his pace quickening as he tried to catch up.

Ryker muttered, his tone serious yet incredulous, “What is she doing?"

Zane, watching Aria’s unmoving figure, muttered under his breath, “Looks like she’s lost in something... Why isn’t she moving?”

That was all it took.

I surged forward, shoving through the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest like a war drum. My friends moved behind me, their voices calling out commands to clear the way. But I barely registered them.

No. Not her. Not like this.

Every step felt like it took an eternity. My chest tightened, my breath coming in short, desperate bursts. Panic clawed at my throat, but it wasn’t just fear—it was something far more consuming. Losing her felt like losing a piece of my soul, something more vital than air, more important than life itself.

“Aria!” I shouted, my voice raw and jagged. The sound carried all the urgency and desperation surging through me.

Esme was closer, screaming her name, her voice shaking with terror. “Aria, can you hear me? Move!”

But Aria didn’t move. She stood frozen, her gaze locked on something outside the window, as if she were trapped in a world only she could see. Her face was pale, her body completely still, as if she couldn’t hear anything at all.

“Lucian, faster!” Ryker barked, his voice sharp, as he pushed forward behind me. Zane was right there too, his movements tense but focused, ready for anything.

Behind Esme, Calen was closing the distance. Aria’s eyes shifted, snapping back into focus, as if emerging from some shock-induced trance. She looked at Esme, then her gaze shifted to mine. For a split second, there was recognition in her eyes, a fleeting connection, but the chandelier was already descending—too fast.

Her expression shifted to one of realization, as if she was just now understanding the danger. But it was too late.

The chandelier hit with brutal force.

The impact sent Aria reeling backward, her body slamming into the window. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall, jagged shards falling like deadly rain.

“No!”

The word tore from my throat as I broke into a full sprint. My friends were right behind me, pushing through the panicked crowd.

The moment Aria disappeared from sight, I didn’t think. Not once. There was no hesitation, no rationality—just a surge of panic that ripped through me. My body moved before my mind had a chance to catch up.

I heard my friends calling out, shouting my name, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t care. I didn’t stop.

Without a second thought, I leaped toward the shattered window, my body crashing through the broken glass in a blur of motion. As the shards rained down around me, the air rushed to meet me, and I reached for the power I’d known my whole life. My Air Elemental Dragon stirred within me, its presence an immediate and natural force, ready to answer my call.

The rush of wind surged around me, and I focused, commanding it to respond. The gusts picked up, weaving together, creating a powerful current of air that enveloped me.

I reached out, and the wind answered, swiftly wrapping itself around Aria. It caught her limp body, lifting her from the fall, holding her steady just above the ground, her unconscious form drifting in the air. The force was gentle but firm, keeping her from the deadly impact below.

She was too still, her body unresponsive, and I felt a rush of fear grip me. I had to get her down safely, to protect her from the fall.

I continued to guide the wind with my will, steadying the air beneath us, and we began our descent. The wind, now fully under my control, eased the speed of our fall, cushioning it, preventing any further harm. The air swirled around us, a cocoon of protection that carried us gently downward.

As the ground neared, I focused even harder, willing the wind to slow us completely. I could feel the power of the air, the flow of the currents, as we descended in a controlled glide. The moment we were close enough, I reached out, pulling Aria into my arms. The air around us softened, and I gently eased her down, cradling her lifeless form against me as we landed. Her body felt fragile, too still, and my heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

I didn't waste time checking for anything else. She was my priority.

Behind me, I heard the rush of my friends catching up, their voices filled with concern and disbelief, but I didn't look at them. I couldn’t pull my focus away from Aria.

"Lucian," Ryker said breathlessly, his voice tinged with urgency, "you did it. But she—"

I didn’t hear the rest. My mind was consumed with worry. Her body was too still, her breathing too shallow. I leaned closer, eyes scanning her face, searching for any sign of life. Was she okay? Her fragile form lay there, vulnerable, and my heart clenched. What if it wasn’t just the fall? What if it was something deeper—something I couldn’t heal with my powers? Every part of me screamed to protect her, to keep her safe from whatever danger lingered. But all I could do was wait—and pray I hadn’t failed her.