Time moved quietly through Lysithara.

Mugu remained.

A year passed, making his stay three years in total. He was still a loner, save for the occasional visit from Nemoriel, who checked on him from time to time without prying.

Valcara watched from a distance.

Every day, she observed his training. Every day, she kept her space.

After six months of this silent surveillance, Mugu approached her and asked to become her student.

She refused.

He asked again.

She refused again.

Mugu persisted, not with words, but with effort. With discipline. With results. One ordeal led to another, until refusal slowly became pointless.

Eventually, Valcara accepted.

By then, Mugu had already reached Second Class Advancement. His growth as a researcher, a magic user, and a warrior was undeniable.

And dangerous.

Standing out in Lysithara was not always a blessing. Attention brought scrutiny. Scrutiny bred envy. And Mugu’s habit of keeping to himself did nothing to soften the eyes that began to watch him.

Another year slipped by.

Four years since he had been taken from his village. Four years since he had left Abellona behind.

Under Valcara, Mugu learned structured magic and advanced rune craft. For reasons no one could explain, he possessed a frightening affinity for rune magic, a discipline almost exclusive to Lysithara.

His talent became impossible to ignore.

One by one, the sages began to take interest in him. They did not formally claim him, but they each, in their own way, passed fragments of their knowledge to him.

In time, Mugu became something rare.

A student of all of them.

But Mugu was not the only one who changed.

As Damon watched the years pass through Mugu’s eyes, he felt something inside himself soften. The sharp edges of resentment dulled. In their place grew something quieter. Broader. More human.

Unlike Damon, Mugu began to open up to the people around him.

He made the effort.

And it worked.

His reason was simple.

You cannot change the world if you live inside a narrow one.

That thought became his epiphany.

Mugu had the makings of a sage.

As his mastery grew, he began searching for the deeper secrets of Lysithara, its forgotten king, its origins, the remnants of old magic.

There was little to find.

Lysithara did not preserve the past.

It encouraged invention.

Time, however, binds people together, and Mugu’s bond with Valcara deepened naturally. Alongside it, his love for the city grew. Lysithara stopped being a place where he sought strength.

It became home.

The people were kind. The sages lived among citizens. You could find them walking the streets, teaching whoever asked questions. And when they did not know something, they admitted it and learned.

Mugu admired that.

He wanted to be like them.

He wanted to be a sage.

On his sixth year in Lysithara, Mugu reached Third Class Advancement.

The speed of it was nearly unbelievable.

To celebrate, and perhaps to show off her apprentice, Valcara organized a small gathering. She invited Mugu’s friends, his peers, and several Ascendants and notable figures.

It was meant to be modest.

But Mugu knew too many people.

They had to move the celebration to a large banquet hall.

The night was filled with laughter, food, and noise. and Nemoriel made exaggerated impressions of everyone in the room, drawing waves of laughter.

Mugu laughed so hard he held his stomach.

He was happy.

And then he realized he was happy.

The laughter died in his throat.

His expression darkened.

By the time the party ended, Mugu found himself alone on the roof of a building, staring up at the twin moons hanging in the sky.

His teeth pressed into his lower lip.

’How could he be happy?’

’How dare he be happy when Abellona was suffering? When what happened to her was born from his weakness?’

The thought spread through him like poison.

"What is it, Mugu? Did something happen?"

Valcara’s voice drifted to him.

He had not seen her arrive.

She was simply there.

"No. Nothing happened," he said calmly.

Valcara exhaled and shook her head slightly.

"You have the worst lying expression I have ever seen. Something happened. You can tell me anything."

Mugu chuckled softly, a faint smile touching his lips.

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Miss Teacher?"

He slipped an arm around her waist as she sat beside him.

"Of course not. What kind of teacher would I be if I could not see that?"

She settled next to him, her posture relaxed, her expression gentle.

Mugu’s gaze returned to the moons.

"It is about Abellona," he whispered.

When he said that, her fingers trembled.

She kept her face calm.

Abellona was the girl Mugu loved. The reason he had come to Lysithara. Valcara knew this. She also knew he would stop at nothing for that girl. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"Hmm. I see," she said quietly.

Inside, her heart twisted.

She knew she was not supposed to feel this way about him. She knew loving Mugu would only lead to her suffering. Fate had already closed its hand around her, and like most oracles, she understood something painful.

What is seen cannot be avoided.

It had been ordained by the Goddess of Doom.

All ill fates fell within her domain.

Even so, Valcara found herself wishing there were a god who allowed choice in fate. Then perhaps things would be different.

"Do I really have the right to be happy? To live here in this place, this paradise, with so many good people while Abellona is left in hell? I cannot. I cannot," Mugu muttered as the words poured out of him.

Valcara bit her lower lip.

"There is nothing wrong with happiness. Why should you not be happy? If you are sad, what good will it do? Do not punish yourself for what is beyond your control."

She raised her hand toward the shining moon.

"You cannot change how the world treats you, but you can change how you react to it. That alone is within your control. You cannot grab the moon with your palms."

Mugu watched her hand stretch toward the sky.

"Perhaps you are right. If I had not seen a dragon the size of a storm, if I had not studied here and learned of distant horizons, I would believe some things cannot be achieved. But what cannot be achieved is often what no one has attempted to change."

He slowly closed his fist.

"How will I know it is impossible if I do not try to grab the moon with my palms?"

Valcara saw the expression settle on his face.

He had made up his mind.

Mugu closed his eyes.

"I will leave Lysithara the day I reach Fourth Class Advancement. Then I will return and slaughter my way back to her."

Valcara was about to speak when something brushed against her senses. A whisper. She snapped her head back, but no one was there.

When she turned to Mugu again, a vision struck her.

She gasped and grabbed his hand.

"I do not want you to go. Stay in Lysithara."

Mugu shook his head.

"Forgive me, Valcara. I must go."

Her face drained of color. Her hands trembled.

"I do not want you to go. If you leave, the Mugu I know will never return. What you expect to find will not be what you see."

She pressed her forehead against his.

"In your future, I only see an abyss of light and darkness. There is only darkness for you if you return."

Mugu’s eyes widened.

Valcara was an oracle. She did not speak meaningless words.

"So be it. If I must fall, then I will fall. You said it yourself. I cannot change how the world treats me, only how I react to it. This is my reaction."

Valcara lowered her head. Tears welled in her eyes.

She had reached Seventh Class Advancement, yet she felt utterly helpless.

She could not change how the world treated her.

Only how she reacted to it.

That was her philosophy.

She was not like Valerie, who saw life as a mix of joy and pain. She was not like Vathren, whose ideals were shaped by leadership.

She was only Valcara.

So she chose her reaction.

She leaned forward and kissed Mugu.

The kiss lasted seven seconds.

When she pulled back, Mugu looked stunned. It was rare to see him react that way.

Valcara smiled softly.

"I love you," she said.

Without hesitation, Mugu replied, "I love Abellona."

There was not a shred of doubt in his eyes.

And that was why she loved him.

Valcara was beautiful beyond words. Wise. Powerful. Wealthy. Kind. Loyal. Everything a man could want in a woman and so much more.

But Mugu loved only one person.

And not even the gods could change that.

She exhaled slowly.

Then she said, "If you go, from grace you shall fall."

It was not a threat. Mugu knew she would never harm him. It was a prophecy.

"Then I shall be ready."