Third-Rate Villain Of Fantasy Novel-Chapter 52: The Stars In The Night Sky

Elena was different tonight.

It wasn’t that she had changed as a person. She was still the same composed, sharp-tongued, quietly stubborn Elena I knew. But something about her felt softer. Lighter.

As if she had finally allowed herself to breathe without holding everything in.

Maybe that was why I felt closer to her than usual.

She leaned against my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Not stiff. Not hesitant. Just... there.

Her shoulder rested lightly against me while her fingers curled around the railing. Then she tilted her head back and looked up at the sky.

The moonlight painted her face in silver, and the stars reflected faintly in her eyes.

"Damian," she said quietly, almost thoughtfully, "did you know something?"

I glanced at her. "What?"

"The stars in the night sky of Merohim and Sarham are the same... but they’re also a little different."

I smiled faintly. "Of course they are. The planet’s spherical. Change your position, and the constellations shift. Some stars disappear beyond the horizon. Others appear."

She nodded slowly, as if she already knew that.

"I know the reason," she murmured. "But even knowing that... it still feels strange."

"Strange how?"

She hesitated.

"In Merohim, there’s a star that rises earlier than the others during winter. It shines just above the eastern hills." Her voice softened. "When I was little, I used to think it was watching over our house."

I stayed silent.

"In Sarham, that star rises much later. And it’s not even in the same position." She smiled faintly. "It feels like it belongs somewhere else."

The way she spoke... it wasn’t about astronomy.

"You miss it," I said quietly.

She didn’t answer right away.

"...Yes."

The simple word carried more weight than anything else she could have said.

"I thought I had already gotten used to being here," she continued. "And I have. I like Sarham. I like this academy. I like..." She paused for a fraction of a second, then continued more carefully. "I like the people here."

My heart skipped, though I kept my expression neutral.

"But sometimes," she went on, "when I look at the sky, I remember how it looked in Merohim. And I feel like I’m standing between two places."

I understood that feeling more than she probably realized.

She suddenly straightened and looked at me again, her eyes clearer now.

"So when I go back to Merohim," she said, a small but determined smile forming, "I’ll tell you everything about that Demian."

I blinked. "That Demian?"

She nodded. "The one you used to be there. The one I didn’t know properly. The one who saw that sky every day."

Her fingers tightened slightly on my sleeve.

"Just like you showed me Sarham... I want to show you Merohim. The sky I love. The streets. The hills. The place where that early winter star rises." She looked away quickly. "I want you to see it the way I do."

For a moment, I couldn’t speak.

The night felt deeper. Quieter.

"I’d like that," I finally said.

She gave a soft hum in response, clearly trying to act casual.

Then, perhaps realizing how sentimental she had just sounded, she suddenly stepped down from the railing.

"Well... it’s late," she said, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "We should rest."

She took a few steps toward the door, then paused without turning around.

"...Goodnight, Damian."

There was a faint tremor in her voice.

"Goodnight, Elena."

She walked inside.

For a second, I simply stood there, staring at the empty doorway. Then I noticed it.

Her ears.

Even in the moonlight, I could clearly see the tips glowing red.

I let out a quiet breath, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at my lips.

After a moment, I lightly waved toward her silhouette lying on the bed inside, even though she probably couldn’t see me anymore. Then I jumped down from the balcony and closed the door gently behind me.

When I returned to my room, the silence felt heavier than before.

Moonlight streamed through the window, falling across the floor and onto the full-length mirror near the wall. The glass shimmered faintly.

I absentmindedly glanced at it—

—and froze.

Because the mirror reflected not only the room... but me.

And my face.

Red.

Completely, undeniably red.

I stared at myself for a long second, as if I were looking at someone else.

"...Unbelievable."

I turned my head away quickly and collapsed onto the bed, pulling the blanket over my face.

My heart was still beating too fast.

Her ears had turned red.

And now... so had I.

Under the blanket, in the darkness, I let out a quiet laugh.

The stars above Sarham and Merohim might be slightly different.

But tonight—

under this same sky—

I was certain of one thing.

No matter where we stood, I wanted to be looking at it with her.

---

The next morning came too quickly.

I barely slept.

Not because I couldn’t—but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the way the moonlight had rested on Elena’s face. The way her voice softened when she spoke about Merohim. The way her ears had turned red.

And worst of all... the way mine had too.

When I finally gave up pretending to sleep, pale sunlight was already slipping through the curtains.

I sat up slowly and ran a hand through my hair.

"Get a hold of yourself," I muttered.

It was just a conversation.

Just the stars.

Just—

A knock came from the door.

Three light taps. Familiar.

I froze for half a second before standing and opening it.

Elena stood there.

She was already dressed for the day, her expression calm and composed as always. If I hadn’t been there last night, I would have thought nothing unusual had happened.

"Good morning," she said evenly.

"Morning."

For a brief moment, our eyes met.

And then—

She looked away first.

"...You overslept," she added, crossing her arms. "Breakfast is almost over."

"I was awake," I replied defensively.

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Since when?"

"...Recently."

She stared at me for a second longer than necessary.

Then, unexpectedly, the corner of her lips curved upward.

"You look tired."

I narrowed my eyes. "You don’t look any better."

Her expression flickered.

For a split second, I thought I saw it again—that faint redness creeping toward her ears.

But she turned away before I could confirm it.

"Let’s go," she said. "We’ll be late."

We walked down the corridor side by side.

There was a comfortable silence between us. Not awkward. Not forced. Just quiet.