The early morning mist clung to the Academy's sparring fields like a thin shroud. Dew glistened on the training dummies as students gathered in a semicircle, their chatter hushed by anticipation. Today marked the first open-elemental duel evaluations—when instructors gauged control, creativity, and raw power.
Kaelen adjusted his uniform and tightened the sash around his waist. His Aqua Veins pulsed faintly beneath his skin, threads of azure mana flickering through his arms. A quiet current hummed in his blood, steady and sure. But beneath that, something colder stirred—silent and ancient.
He shook off the chill.
"Kaelen Virell," Instructor Halrix called, voice sharp as cracked stone, "You're paired with Aiven Drass."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Aiven was an upper-tier Vein Dancer—one of the few already showing signs of dual-element manipulation. His core pulsed with fire and wind, an unpredictable combination.
Kaelen stepped forward, every footfall steady. Across from him, Aiven rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. "Hope your water can do more than make me thirsty."
Kaelen didn't respond. His stance lowered, eyes narrowing. As the signal flag dropped, Aiven was already in motion, launching a burst of compressed flame in a spiraling arc.
Kaelen raised his palm. A wall of water spiraled upward, shaped like a curving tide. The fire hissed against it, steam flooding the arena in a burst. Before it cleared, Kaelen dropped to one knee and slid forward, directing a spear of condensed water toward Aiven's left flank.
The other boy spun, wind boosting his jump backward. He landed with a smirk. "You're not bad. But I'm just warming up."
A blast of scorching air ripped forward.
Kaelen's arms crossed, forming a liquid barrier that deflected the brunt, but the impact skidded him back. His boots dug into the dirt.
Something inside him stirred—cold, coiling like mist in a cavern. He gasped, blinking. Shadows pulsed at the edge of his vision. For a split second, the water in his control trembled… darkened.
Not yet.
Kaelen pushed the sensation down and redirected the last of his mana into a vortex. The water churned around him like a rising tide, then launched upward in a twisting jet. Aiven dodged—barely—but the arc grazed his shoulder and sent him tumbling back.
Halrix raised his hand. "Enough."
Both boys froze.
Aiven stood, panting, sweat rolling down his temple. Kaelen rose slower, chest heaving, his body cooling unnaturally fast.
"Well-placed defenses. Calculated offense," Halrix noted. "But you hesitated midway, Virell."
Kaelen bowed slightly. "Understood."
As they left the field, Aiven clapped him on the back. "You've got some sharp edges hiding in that calm water, huh? Let's run that again sometime—with fewer rules."
Kaelen nodded absently. He wasn't thinking about the duel. He was thinking about that moment—the shadow within the flow.
Later that night, Kaelen sat alone at the edge of the training pond. The moon shimmered above, casting silver light over the water's surface. His fingers dipped into the pond, stirring the reflections.
He whispered the incantation for Aqua Pulse, and gentle ripples danced outward.
But then…
A second ripple, deeper and slower, echoed his spell. The pond dimmed, the reflection warping. Kaelen blinked. The surface of the water… turned black. Not just dark—void-like, swallowing the moon's reflection entirely.
He recoiled.
Something within his core responded, not like before. It wasn't water. It wasn't mana. It was abyssal. Dormant. Cold.
A whisper echoed in his mind—not words, but a sensation: vastness. Depth.
Kaelen clutched his chest, breath hitching.
"What was that…?" he murmured.
No one answered.
Only the still black surface of the pond, mirroring nothing.