The courtyard hadn't yet settled from the clash of stone and storm when the man's voice rang again, steady as ever.
"Next—Jeren and Veyna."
The two stepped forward.
Jeren was tall for his age, his hair pale as frost, eyes a muted blue that seemed to carry no warmth. His steps were precise, quiet. He raised one hand and a fine mist curled off his fingertips, the temperature dropping instantly around him.
Veyna, by contrast, was sharp and restless. Her short dark hair whipped as though wind already answered to her presence. Her smirk was confident, daring.
"Try not to freeze before I blow you apart, ice-boy."
Jeren said nothing.
"Begin."
Veyna moved first—her body blurred, carried by sudden gusts of wind. She darted around Jeren, her speed leaving the others squinting to follow. Dust lifted from the ground as she circled, winds curling into a growing spiral.
Jeren's eyes followed her calmly. His palm opened, and shards of ice burst from thin air, shooting outward in sharp volleys.
Some shattered harmlessly against the rushing winds, but one grazed Veyna's arm, leaving a thin white burn of frost. She hissed, then spun, unleashing a cutting gale that sliced through the air like blades.
The children gasped as one of the stone walls from earlier was split clean in two.
Kairo tilted his head slightly, watching. Igron chuckled beside him.
"Now this is art—speed against patience. She'll run circles until he boxes her in."
Jeren, unbothered by her momentum, exhaled. The mist thickened, spreading across the courtyard floor. Frost began to creep up Veyna's legs with every step she took inside the mist's reach. Her speed faltered just slightly.
"Not enough!" she shouted, gathering both hands. The wind around her howled, lifting her feet clean off the ground. In a whirl of air, she launched herself above Jeren, descending like a spear, her gale compressed into a downward strike.
But Jeren had already raised both arms. Ice surged up, forming a dome. Veyna crashed into it, shattering chunks everywhere. For a heartbeat, it seemed like he had faltered—then the shards hanging midair spun, suspended, then blasted forward like knives.
Veyna barely crossed her arms to shield herself, winds flaring to deflect the storm of blades. She hit the ground hard, sliding back, her breath ragged.
Jeren lowered his arms, expression unchanged. The mist cleared, leaving silence in its wake.
The man nodded.
"Enough. Both showed control. That will do."
Veyna spat dust from her mouth, glaring at Jeren, though not without a glint of respect.
"You're colder than you look, ice-boy."
Still, she extended a hand. Jeren blinked, then took it.
Above, the mistress leaned back into shadow, lips curving faintly.
"Pieces on the board… all falling into place."