The Following Week After The Tournament

The dining hall was loud in that familiar way—trays clattering, chairs scraping, voices competing to be heard over the general chaos. Lucian sat at his usual table near the window, a tray of food he wasn’t really hungry for in front of him. Across from him, Leo was demolishing a sandwich with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested he hadn’t eaten in days.

"Dude," Leo said around a mouthful of bread, "you won that thing, right? The martial arts club tournament?"

Lucian picked up his fork. "Yeah."

"I didn’t even know you were in a martial arts club."

"It’s new."

Leo swallowed. "Well, congrats. I guess? Is it a big deal?"

Jenna slid into the seat next to Leo, her phone already out. "It’s a big deal if he got a trophy. Did you get a trophy?"

Lucian’s fork hovered over his tray. "There was a trophy."

"Where is it? Can I see it?"

"It’s in my room."

"Can I take a picture of it?"

"It’s not that impressive."

Jenna squinted at him. "You’re being weird."

"I’m always weird."

"No, you’re usually quiet. This is different. You’re deflecting."

Leo swallowed another bite. "She’s got a point. You’ve been acting strange all week. Like you’re thinking about something you don’t want to talk about."

Lucian set down his fork. He could feel the weight of the secret pressing against his chest—the tournament, the hunters, the Veil, the demon prince who wanted to tear it all down. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. That was the point.

"Just tired," he said. "Training a lot."

Jenna tilted her head. "What exactly are you training for? Like, is this a hobby or are you trying to go pro?"

Pro. That was a funny word.

"Neither," Lucian said. "Just something I have to do."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "That’s cryptic."

"I’m a cryptic guy."

"You’re a farm boy who reads too many books," Tara said, appearing behind Jenna with a tray of her own. She sat down on the other side of Leo, her posture straight, her expression skeptical. "I looked up that martial arts club, by the way."

Lucian’s hand stilled.

"There’s no record of it. Not on the university website, not on the club registry, not even in the student activities database." Tara fixed him with her sharp eyes. "So either you’re lying, or you’re in something that doesn’t exist."

The table went quiet.

Leo stopped chewing. Jenna lowered her phone.

Lucian looked at Tara. Her face wasn’t accusatory—just curious. Analytical. She wasn’t trying to catch him in a lie; she was trying to understand him.

"It’s a private group," he said. "Invitation only. Off the books."

"Off the books," Tara repeated. "That sounds sketchy."

"It’s not. Just... selective."

Jenna leaned forward. "Selective how? Like, you have to be good at fighting?"

"Something like that."

Leo swallowed his last bite. "So you’re in some kind of secret martial arts club that doesn’t officially exist, you won a tournament, got a trophy, and you won’t let us see it." He nodded slowly. "That’s weird, man. Like, genuinely weird."

Lucian almost smiled. "You have no idea."

Tara’s eyes narrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He picked up his fork again. "Just that things aren’t always what they seem."

Jenna and Leo exchanged a glance. Tara kept staring.

"You’re doing it again," Jenna said.

"Doing what?"

"Talking in riddles."

Lucian looked at his tray. The food was cold. He hadn’t taken a single bite.

"Sorry," he said. "I’ve got a lot on my mind."

Tara leaned back. "Your grades are fine. I checked. You’re passing everything, even Professor Elaine’s class, which is a miracle considering how much you zone out." She paused. "So if it’s not school, and it’s not the club, what is it?"

Lucian met her eyes. "Family stuff."

That was true, technically. Margaret. Margie. Valentine. The pendant. The war they couldn’t see.

Tara’s expression softened, just a fraction. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

Leo reached across the table and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, if you need to talk, we’re here. We may not understand the whole secret martial arts thing, but we’re good listeners."

Jenna nodded. "Especially if you have drama. I love drama."

"You love gossip," Tara said.

"Same thing."

The table laughed. Lucian felt something loosen in his chest.

They don’t know, he thought. They can’t ever know.

But maybe that’s okay.

He picked up his fork again. This time, he took a bite.

---

The afternoon sun was warm on his face as he walked back to the dorm. The campus was busy—students rushing to classes, professors carrying stacks of papers, a few couples sitting on the grass pretending to study.

Lucian watched them. Normal people. Normal lives. They worried about exams and relationships and what to eat for dinner.

He worried about demon princes and ancient pendants and the Veil falling.

Two worlds. One body.

He thought about Leo’s easy smile, Jenna’s phone addiction, Tara’s sharp questions. They were his friends. Real friends. The kind he’d never had on the farm.

But he couldn’t tell them the truth. Couldn’t explain why he disappeared for days at a time. Couldn’t explain the scars he came back with.

Maybe one day, he thought. When the war is over. If the war is over.

A familiar voice called out behind him. "Lucian!"

He turned.

Margie jogged across the grass, her hair pulled back, her cheeks flushed. She’d been training—he could see it in the way she moved, the controlled energy in her limbs.

"Hey," she said, stopping beside him. "You look like you’re a million miles away."

"Close enough."

She fell into step beside him. "The team’s leaving for the Springs tomorrow, right?"

"Day after."

"You excited?"

Lucian considered the question. "Not excited. Ready."

Margie snorted. "Same thing."

"Not really."

They walked in silence for a few steps. The wind moved through the trees, carrying the smell of autumn.

"Mom’s proud of you," Margie said quietly. "She won’t say it because she’s terrible at feelings, but she is."

Lucian looked at her. "She’s proud of you too."

Margie’s jaw tightened. "She’s just worried. About my demon side."

"She’s worried because she loves you."

"I know." Margie kicked a pebble. "Doesn’t make it easier."

They reached the dorm. Margie stopped at the stairs.

"I’ll see you later?"

"Yeah."

She hesitated, like she wanted to say something else. Then she turned and walked away.

Lucian watched her go.

He smiled, she is warming up to him.