Lucien's voice cut through the quiet like the edge of a drawn blade.
"So this is what's become of you," he said, stepping out from the archway's shadow, the late sunlight catching the crest on his uniform, royal, proud, deliberate.
Behind him were Cassian, lounging against the stone with his arms folded, a half‑smile tugging at his mouth as though this were all some joke, and Mirielle, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, her disdain so palpable it seemed to perfume the air.
"Months around them and already your posture's lost its sharpness," Lucien went on.
Cassian gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Sharpness, softness, does it matter? She looks comfortable enough to me."
Mirielle scoffed, cutting across him with a flick of her hand. "Comfort breeds weakness. And weakness is unbecoming of her bloodline."
Lucien ignored them both, his gaze fixed on Aurelia. "Tell me, Aurelia, did you forget the walls that built you? Or are you just pretending they don't exist now?"
Lysandra moved forward, anger immediate on her face. "You'll not speak to her that way—"
Aurelia's hand shot up, flat between them, stopping Lysandra mid-step. Her palm was steady. "I'll deal with him," she said, quiet but absolute.
"You're right about one thing," she said, her voice a controlled flame. "I don't care about those walls. They're only tall because people like you keep polishing them."
Lucien's smile was thin, mirthless. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
For a breath, Aurelia's answer hovered, then a memory slid into place.
Lysandra's bright certainty a day ago, how she'd mentioned the great houses all began as commoners who made their names by grit and cunning.
The thought steadied something in Aurelia, turning the heat of her indignation into a colder, sharper intent.
"It means," Aurelia stepped forward, the sound of her boots soft on the stone, "that I don't measure worth by who was born higher. I measure it by strength. Resolve. The kind that doesn't hide behind crests or court names."
He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering like a spark. "Strength, is it? You always did love pretending to be noble in your rebellion."
Her eyes narrowed, the calm in her voice sharpening to a blade's edge. "You're wrong about me pretending to be noble, because I am."
The air around her began to hum, faint threads of Aether coiling and sparking along her arms like restless light.
The marble beneath her feet seemed to tense with her. "If you think I'm not," she said, stepping forward, "Prove me wrong. I want to measure you myself, Lucien. Not as a prince—" her gaze locked with his, fierce and steady "—but as a fighter. To see if we're both worthy as nobles."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then, Lucien's grin split wider, sharp and knowing. "Finally," he said. "Something interesting came out of your mouth. All this talk of merit and strength, then why waste breath? Entertain me."
Aurelia smiled, dangerous and unyielding. "I'll gladly put you in your place this time. No holding back or anything!"
Aether flared between them like twin storms given form.
Aurelia's Aether spun together, translucent and trembling with rhythm, alive with a pulse that seemed to echo her heartbeat.
Lucien's gathered into light, a weapon built of precision and arrogance.
The grass around them trembled, bending under the weight of their power.
Students nearby froze, hushed, sensing the pressure in the air.
Kael stepped forward, voice tight. "Aurelia, stop this. You don't need to prove anything to him."
Lysandra's tone was sharper, almost pleading. "Kael's right, don't do this!"
Cassian, straightened, his expression stripped of its usual ease. "Lucien, don't be a fool. This isn't worth it."
Mirielle folded her arms, her voice dripping disdain. "Barbaric. Both of you. Trading blows in front of an audience like common brawlers."
But neither Aurelia nor Lucien moved to stand down. Their eyes locked, the air between them vibrating with the clash of wills.
Lucien's lips curved into a thin smile. "Then show me, Aurelia. Show me what you've become."
The very air crackled with anticipation, two Aether streams winding toward a clash—
—and then both lights snapped out, like candles extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, the magical duel ending abruptly.
A pulse rolled through the courtyard, silent, absolute, authoritative.
Aurelia's breath hitched. Her connection to Aether had vanished, cut at the root. Even Lucien's weapon fractured into nothing, the last shards of his magic scattering like dust.
From behind them, the measured sound of boots on stone broke the charged silence.
Professor Malrec stood a short distance away, his expression unreadable. "Fighting on Academy grounds," he said, tone calm but heavy, "is prohibited unless under sanctioned instruction. I expected better judgment, especially from two of my more promising students."
Lucien's jaw tensed. Aurelia straightened, silent.
Malrec's eyes, sharp, patient, and cold, flicked between them like a judge weighing two knives.
He let the challenge hang for a breath, then closed his hand as if folding the space itself.
"If you wish to test your strength," he said, voice low and steadied by command, "You will do it where the walls can endure it and where your pride may be measured properly."
The stray motes of Aether that had braided the air uncoiled at his motion, drawn back into the room's current as if recalled by a master conductor.
For an instant, nothing moved, then the pressure in the corridor shifted.
Malrec's presence tightened like a drawn wire, the light around him thinning to a blade of darkness, an undercurrent that tasted of iron and old wars.
It was the sort of force that made breath hurry and hearts press at ribs.
"You will take this elsewhere," he continued, each word a quiet hammer. "I'll decide your punishment later. Consider this your warning."
Even as the words left him, that sharper edge of Aether loosened, though the memory of it lingered in the air like an after-image.
Students nearby sucked in breaths they hadn't realized they'd held.
Both Aurelia and Lucien found themselves shaken, the adrenaline in their limbs ebbing back to a steady burn.
Malrec turned and left, his robes swallowing the light as he went.
The corridor exhaled with him, and the academy resumed its ordinary cadence.
Aurelia's chest still hummed with the echo of Malrec's command.
She watched the corridor as if it might unravel and disclose the Aether he'd folded away, an act so clean, so blunt, it felt like a scalpel through the throat of the argument.
What stage of Manipulation was that? Not just force, he erased and redirected. That edge wasn't taught at all.
The question prickled at her pride and at a more profound curiosity.
Professor Malrec had not simply stopped them, he had demonstrated a level of control that made the bones of the space between them ache.
Lucien's smile returned, though thinner now, as if the interruption had taken some of the sport out of his voice. "Consider yourself fortunate," he said lightly. "Discipline can be… tiresome."
He stepped back a pace, giving Aurelia the room she'd demanded and the audience their quiet spectacle. "It would have been interesting to see how far you'd press it."
Aurelia let the words land, tasting them for any hidden barb. "Is that a challenge?" she asked, holding him with a steady gaze.
Lucien's eyes flicked away briefly, an unguarded motion, and when he looked back, his voice carried that peculiar, casual edge that made everything feel dangerous. "Perhaps. I'll keep your measure in mind. Only things that amuse me or prove useful are worth my attention. It's the same principle as yours now that I think about it."
He inclined his head as if offering a compliment that might be a threat. "At present, you seem to have the advantage. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Aurelia's mouth gave the slightest, controlled curl. Enjoy it. I will.
Kael shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself. "You really want to go and face Lucien out in the open?" he asked, letting the incredulity hang in the air. "Do you think that's… smart?"
Lysandra stepped forward, her tone less sharp, more teasing, but still firm. "Aurelia, you really think charging headfirst is the way to handle him? We've talked about this."
She waved a hand at the mess of plans and warnings scattered across the table. "Sometimes patience is stronger than a sword swing, you know."
Aurelia's lips curved anyway, but Kael shook his head again. "I swear," he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation, "You're like a storm looking for trouble. Don't come crying to us when it hits back."
Lysandra chuckled softly. "Exactly. There's a time for bravado, and a time for strategy. Maybe try remembering which is which before you jump into the fire."
Aurelia's smile widened until it was all teeth and dare. "When we properly duel," she said, voice low and sure, "I won't come back crying. I'm going to put Lucien in his place, like I said."
Kael let out a long, theatrical sigh and shook his head. "You're impossibly stubborn," he muttered, but there was no real bite in it, only the tiredness of someone who's watched a hurricane choose the exact moment to form. "Fine. Knock yourself out. Just… don't make it messy for the rest of us."
Lysandra clapped once, quick and bright, like a spark. "That's the spirit," she cheered, stepping in like a mischievous sponsor. "Bring him a taste of Aurelia's charming chaos. And if he tries anything, I'll make sure his ego comes home with a few dents."
Aurelia tossed her hair and gave them both a cocky bow. "Deal," she said.
But her grin faltered just slightly as a familiar, calm voice cut through the tension.
"Did you forget I'm still here? I was listening the entire time." Lucien said, a slow smile curling at the edges of his lips. "I'm very much looking forward to this duel."
Kael's jaw tightened, and Lysandra gave a sharp, amused huff, but neither moved as Lucien's gaze swept the room with that infuriating ease.
Without another word, he turned and strode out, Cassian and Mirielle flanking him like shadows perfectly in step, leaving Aurelia, Kael, and Lysandra in the wake of his departing confidence.
Aurelia's eyes flicked to Kael. "He's smug," she muttered.
Kael shook his head, exhaling slowly. "That's Lucien for you. Just… be ready."
Lysandra, still smirking, clapped her hands once. "Oh, I'm so ready to see you prove him wrong."
Aurelia's expression hardened, the playful curl vanishing from her lips. "I'll need to get stronger first," she said, voice measured. "The last time we fought, he was holding back, though I was using Aura instead of Aether. My goal right now is Echocraft: Stage Three of the Harmonization Edict."
Kael blinked, leaning back slightly. "Is there… any particular reason? The Arcana Division isn't limited to Harmonization, there's also the Elemental and Manipulation Edicts."
Aurelia's gaze sharpened. "Because it might be the key to unlocking my Aspect."
Kael's eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth to say something, only to stop.
Lysandra, however, simply smirked knowingly. She had already heard Aurelia explain this before, back when Kael had been asleep.
Aurelia crossed her arms. "So, do you think you've reached the second stage of the Elemental edict?"
He shook his head. "No. Not yet. I haven't felt it."
Felt? the thought flared through her like a stray ember.
Lysandra tilted her head, eyes bright. "Wait, can you feel when you awaken a stage? Like, is there a buzzy tingle or a cinematic flash?"
"I misworded it. You don't feel it like a bell," Kael said patiently. "You…recognize it. It shows in what you can do and how reliably you do it. A sudden tingle is rarely the thing itself. It's the aftermath people mistake for awakening."
He turned to Aurelia then, his gaze steady. "Do you remember when you awakened "Harmonic Flow." Stage Two of Harmonization?"
Aurelia nodded slowly. "I do. What about it?"
"Did you feel it awaken?" Kael asked.
She thought for a moment, eyes narrowing as memory stirred. "No. Not exactly. There wasn't some flash or pulse. But… I knew. It wasn't a feeling, it was recognition. Like realizing a song you've been humming has finally found its melody."
Kael's mouth quirked in quiet approval. "Exactly. You don't feel it. You recognize it. The difference matters."
Lysandra popped a proud chin. "If it's a matter of self-confidence. I'm confident that I've reached Stage Three: Scriptcraft."
Kael's brows rose. He gave her a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. "Arrogance will lead to your downfall. Stage Three is about transformation. This stage highlights the shaping of basic elements into recognizable shapes and forms, the creative potential in the materials themselves. You don't just keep a spark alive, you teach the spark to become a lantern, a swan, or a lock. It's sculpting with Aether."
Lysandra blinked, then shrugged theatrically. "So Stage Two is mastery of form, Stage Three is mastery of making things mean something… or look cool."
Kael allowed himself a small, reluctant smile. "Stage Two: Embodiment is about solidity and endurance. Calling an element into being and maintaining its stability. A ribbon of flame that refuses to scatter, a stone bridge that won't crumble the moment you blink.
"Stage Three: Scriptcraft builds on that, it gives the element identity and purpose. A water sphere that holds the shape of a globe, a gust folded into a paper crane that carries a message. That's Scriptcraft."
A sudden sound of clapping startled them. The trio turned, and there stood Professor Seris, her silver-trimmed robes catching the early light. Her smile was both knowing and amused.
"Well said, Kael. For someone who hasn't yet reached the stage, that was a wonderful explanation."
Lysandra blinked in confusion. "Professor Seris? Why are you here? I thought you were teaching at the north tower this morning."
Seris chuckled softly, hands clasped behind her back. "Three promising figures. A fight that nearly started, and discussing theory in the courtyard? How could I not take a peek? If I were there, I would have let the duel happen."
Kael rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at the compliment. "It's not that impressive, Professor. I just… repeated what Professor Marlec said during the lecture."
Seris tilted her head, her eyes gleaming. "Ah, but you didn't just repeat it, did you? You reshaped it and reworded it in a way that fit your own understanding. That," she said with a playful wink, "is the first hint toward achieving Stage Three of Scriptcraft."
A flicker of realization passed between the trio, like a shared spark igniting three candles at once.
Seris noticed and smiled knowingly. "But," she added, lifting a finger, "that hint is worthless until you've mastered 'Embodiment'. Understanding without foundation is just air trying to hold form."
She turned, her cloak rippling faintly with residual Aura. "Still," she said over her shoulder, "I have high expectations for the three of you. Don't disappoint me."
With that, she walked away, leaving the faint scent of ink and ozone behind her, and three students standing in the courtyard, newly lit by both the dawn and the idea of what could come next.
Lysandra frowned, tapping her chin with one finger. "Wait, hold on," she said slowly, brows furrowing in thought. "If Scriptcraft is about creativity… then what did she mean by reshaping and rewording being the first hint? Isn't that literally what creativity is? You take something and make it your own. That's reshaping."
Aurelia blinked, crossing her arms. "You're not wrong. That's what I thought too. Creativity is about changing or reimagining something. So what's the difference?"
Kael's eyes narrowed as he stared at the spot where Seris had disappeared, the air still faintly humming with her Aura. "Yeah… the hint doesn't quite make sense. If Scriptcraft is about giving something identity and form, then reshaping words or ideas is part of it. It's like she contradicted herself on purpose."
Lysandra huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "Great. A riddle wrapped in a compliment. How very professor-like of her."
Aurelia tilted her head, thinking. "Maybe it's not about what you reshape, but why you do it. Creativity alone isn't enough. Maybe Scriptcraft needs intention, something behind the act that gives the shape meaning."
Kael gave a quiet hum at that, though his expression stayed unreadable. "Maybe. Or maybe she just wanted to mess with us."
Lysandra groaned dramatically. "Fantastic. My brain hurts, and the day hasn't even started."
Aurelia smirked, elbowing her. "Then it's working."
"Shut up," Lysandra muttered, but her grin gave her away.
The three of them stood in the soft hush of the courtyard for a moment longer, the wind curling around their ankles.
Confusion, curiosity, and the faint thrill of discovery hung between them like a shared pulse.
Kael finally broke the silence. "Either way… It's something to think about. Maybe that's what she wanted."
Aurelia shook her head, a faint frown tugging at her lips. "No. We shouldn't dwell on it. Seris said it herself, it's useless until we've reached Stage Two."
Lysandra's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "But what if it's a riddle like I said? Maybe it's meant to mislead us about Stage Three and is actually a hint toward achieving Stage Two instead."
Kael let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You're making things too complicated. You're assuming far too many things."
Lysandra tilted her head, unbothered. "Well, if I'm right, you guys owe me a favor. My priority is the Elemental Edict right now."
Kael nodded in agreement. "Same here. Stage Two of Elemental is my focus. Everything else comes later."
Aurelia smiled, "I look forward to see both of your progress."