Chapter 41: Sparks in the Ordinary
Dinner wasn't planned, but it felt inevitable.
Marianne messaged Adrian two days after their café reunion. "Dinner? Friday night? I know a place near the university."
Adrian stared at the message for a long time, pendant pulsing faintly against his chest. He thought of Elias's warning — attachments are distractions — but he also thought of Leah's words: Normal doesn't mean weak. It means human.
He typed back quickly. "Yes. I'd like that."
Friday evening, Adrian arrived early. The restaurant was small, tucked between bookstores and old buildings, its warm lights spilling onto the street. Students laughed at nearby tables, couples shared quiet conversations, and the smell of grilled food filled the air.
Marianne waved when she saw him, her smile steady. "You're early," she teased.
Adrian shrugged, nervous. "Traffic wasn't as bad as I thought."
They sat together, menus in hand, but conversation flowed before food even arrived. They reminisced about high school — teachers who scolded them, classmates who made mischief, the endless exams that felt like battles. Adrian laughed more than he had in weeks, scars forgotten for a moment.
Marianne studied him between stories. "You've changed," she said softly. "You're steadier now. But there's something in your eyes… like you've seen too much."
Adrian's chest tightened. He thought of hunters, relics, scars burning with every breath. He forced a smile. "Life does that. Work, responsibilities. You know how it is."
She nodded, though her gaze lingered, sharp and curious. "Still, it's good to see you. I always wondered how you were doing."
The pendant pulsed faintly, steady but insistent. Adrian shifted in his seat, hiding the glow beneath his shirt. He wanted to tell her everything — the battles, the forbidden technique, the scars that fed the relic. But Elias's warning echoed: Survival first. Truth later.
Dinner arrived — grilled chicken, rice, vegetables. They ate slowly, conversation weaving between nostalgia and present life. Marianne spoke of her work, her family, her dreams of traveling. Adrian listened, genuinely, realizing how much he had missed hearing her voice.
At one point, she laughed, brushing her hair back. "Do you remember the science fair? You built that ridiculous contraption with wires and magnets. It barely worked, but you looked so proud."
Adrian chuckled, embarrassed. "I thought I was a genius. Turns out I was just stubborn."
Her smile softened. "I liked that about you. You never gave up, even when things broke."
Adrian's heart pounded. He wanted to tell her that things were still breaking — his body, his scars, his destiny. But he stayed silent, savoring the warmth of her words.
After dinner, they walked through the campus streets. The night air was cool, the city alive with neon lights and chatter. Students hurried past, vendors sold snacks, and the hum of ordinary life surrounded them.
Marianne glanced at him. "It feels strange, doesn't it? Being back here. Like we're kids again, but older."
Adrian nodded. "Strange, but good."
She smiled faintly. "I'm glad we met again. I didn't realize how much I missed this."
The pendant pulsed harder, faint but insistent. Adrian gasped quietly, chest burning. Marianne noticed, concern flickering. "Are you okay?"
Adrian forced a smile. "Just tired. Long week."
She studied him, but didn't press. Instead, she walked closer, their shoulders brushing. Adrian's chest tightened, pendant glowing faintly. He whispered to himself, voice hoarse. "Destiny never sleeps. But maybe… it waits."
Later that night, Adrian returned to his apartment. He sat by the window, pendant glowing faintly in his hand. He thought of Marianne's smile, her laugh, the warmth of ordinary connection. He thought of scars, of hunters, of relics feeding on pain.
Leah appeared suddenly, golden aura flickering faintly. "You're smiling again," she teased.
Adrian flushed. "I saw Marianne. We had dinner."
Leah smirked. "The crush you never confessed to. Interesting."
Elias's voice echoed from the shadows. "Attachments are distractions. Relics don't care about your heart. They care about survival."
Adrian clenched his fists, scars burning faintly. "But survival isn't enough. If I don't have something to fight for, then what's the point?"
Silence hung heavy. Elias said nothing more, but his gaze lingered, skeptical.
Adrian whispered to himself, voice hoarse. "I'll rise. I'll uncover the truth. But I'll live too. For her. For me."
The pendant pulsed again, brighter than before.
And Adrian Reyes knew the path ahead wasn't just about cultivation or history. It was about humanity — fragile, ordinary, but worth carrying alongside scars.