Dragon Savior A New Beginning ( Update Version)

Guided by a Glow (73)

Something answered Starfania's rage. The sword-pen in her pocket vibrated violently, its heat flaring like a warning burn. A thin seam of light bled through the metal casing—soft at first, then brighter—pulsing in time with her frantic heartbeat. Stop. The message wasn't words. It was instinct. A warning screamed through her bones. But she didn't hear it. Her breathing turned harsh and ragged—deep, powerful exhales that steamed faintly in the air, like a dragon releasing smoke from its nostrils. The hallway trembled, lockers rattling softly as if something ancient had stirred. Becka's mouth moved—another cruel word forming—and Starfania moved.

She didn't remember deciding to strike. Didn't remember drawing her arm back. Didn't feel the moment her fists connected with Becka's stomach—only the impact, dull and heavy, followed by sharp gaps as Becka folded inward. The sword-pen flared once—brilliant, furious—then went dark. Silence crashed down like a dropped blade. The adrenaline floods Starfania's veins ebb, leaving behind a hollow, nauseating calm. Reality slammed into her. Students crowded in, their voices rising into a chaotic chant that pounded against her skull like an unforgiving drumbeat.

Starfania froze. Her gaze locked onto Becka—collapsed to the floor, clutching her stomach. Pain twisted her face, which was pale. Her breaths were shallow, uneven. What did I just do? Her mind spiraled—guilt clawing at her chest. This wasn't her. This wasn't who she wanted to be. Becka slowly lifted her head. Tears shimmered in her eyes like shattered glass. Her lips trembled, but no words came—only a broken inhale. Starfania looked down. Blood smeared across her knuckles. Her stomach dropped. The minute she saw Becka's bleeding nose. The weight of the moment settled over her like a suffocating fog.

She felt every stare—shock, fascination, fear. Whispers rippled through the crowd. Some pointed. Others looked thrilled. Starfania opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Becka's breathing quickened, a desperate rhythm echoing in Starfania's ears. She took a tentative step forward, every movement heavy—like wading through a thick mind.

" I didn't mean to," she whispered. Becka looked up. The pain in her eyes pierced straight through Starfania's heart. The crowd leaned in, hungry for something—anything—but Starfania could only stand there, trapped in the wreckage of her own emotions. She wished—desperate—that she could rewind time. The murmurs grew louder. Then—sharp, echoing footsteps. The hallway fell silent. Professor Shadow emerged from the crowd, his presence alone enough to silence the noise.

" Cease this meaningless behavior at once!" He thundered.

The students recoiled, excitement draining into unease. Starfania remained frozen, her heart pounding, trying to escape her ribs. Professor Shadow's gaze snapped to her.

" What have you done this time, Miss Night?" He demanded. Becka, still on the ground, sucked in a shaky breath and pointed at Starfania.

" She attacked me!" She cried. " For no reason!"

Starfania's lip parted. No defense came. The guilt crushed every word before it could form. She met his gaze, swallowing hard. " Yes...but—it was an accident..."

The words hung there—fragile. Insufficient. Professor Shadow's eyes narrowed. " An accident? You seem to have quite the talent for these accidents, don't you?"

The tension thickened. Students shifted uneasily. Becka glared up at Starfania, fury burning through her pain. " You wanted to hurt me!"

Starfania's chest tightened. Overwhelmed. Cornered. Drowning.

" Is this how you wish to be remembered?" Professor Shadow continued, stepping closer, his voice low and cutting. " As someone who resorts to violence when things don't go their way?"

The weight of his words crushed her.

" I never meant to—" She began. He raised his hand.

" I've heard enough," he said coldly. " Both of you will follow me to the principal's office."

Starfania's gaze dropped to her shaking hands. The sword-pen sat silent in her pocket. But the warning lingered. And deep inside her chest, something ancient shifted—not gone; not tamed; only watching.