The hall was colder than before.
Katsu stood still as a tall woman in slate robes approached.
Her hair was pinned in a coiled bun, streaked with white.
In her hands, folded with reverence, lay a black robe lined in silver.
The Velthra crest gleamed across the chest: a cracked mirror bisected by a bleeding line.
She stopped before him, gaze flicking once to his eyes, then lower, as if confirming he was real.
"It's you," she said, almost a whisper. "I never thought I'd live to put this on anyone again."
He said nothing.
The silence between them felt like ceremony.
She lifted the robe, guiding his arms through each sleeve with practiced care.
Her hands trembled once; she masked it quickly.
"Velthra does not take students lightly," she murmured. "In fact... it was said the founder left no heir. His Disciples vanished. No bloodlines. No legacy. Yet here you stand."
She stepped back, adjusting the collar. Her voice dropped.
"All who enter Velthra are not students. They are claimed. Children of the House itself. And children of Velthra are never to be trifled with."
Her eyes met his. Not a warning.
A promise.
She bowed, shallow but precise, then turned and left without another word.
Katsu kept to the edge of the hall after that.
Eyes followed him. Some curious.
Some envious. A few afraid.
He walked like smoke: there, but untouchable.
He didn't speak. Didn't need to.
He ate alone, dressed quiet, folded the robe with mechanical care.
Even as whispers followed.
Velthra picked him.
Didn't even cast a spell.
Did you hear it spoke?
He stayed silent.
Until they approached.
Three boys, two girls.
Older, cocky, polished in the way only second-years could be.
One wore the golden sash of House Kavaleth. Another bore the teal-threaded pin of Soryuun.
The rest wore mixed badges, scraps of heritage sewn into pride.
The tallest stepped forward, hand outstretched.
"Nori, right? Katsu Nori?"
Katsu didn't take the hand.
Just nodded once.
"We're doing a tradition," the boy went on.
His grin was wide, relaxed. Too relaxed.
"All new picks from the five Houses go on a walk. Clears the nerves. Helps the House settle into you."
The girl beside him smirked.
"And it's rare to get a Velthra. We figured, why not invite the prodigy himself?"
Katsu hesitated. Every instinct pulled him away but every eye in the room was watching.
They are claimed. Children of the House itself. And children of Velthra are never to be trifled with.
Those words ring in this head.
And he took it as truth.
He didn't want to give them more whispers.
So he nodded again.
He left with the students later.
They walked past the gates at dusk.
Snow clung to the path, light dimming beneath tall branches.
The group laughed, trading easy stories. Jokes. Smirks.
One offered him a drink. He declined.
The trees thinned. They reached a cliff edge.
Below, a river churned.
Black water smashing against jagged stone.
The drop was steep, cruel.
Katsu stepped back instinctively.
"This," the leader said, arms spread wide, "is where we test who's really meant to be here."
Katsu blinked. "What?"
The shove came fast.
He slipped. Boots scraped frozen earth.
He twisted, fingers clawing for anything.
Caught a rock's edge. Hung there, the wind screaming beneath him.
Above, the group froze.
"Shit—"
"He wasn't supposed to—"
"Do we pull him up?"
"We didn't mean—"
No one moved.
Katsu's arm screamed in pain.
Fingers slipping. Every breath felt thinner. His vision blurred.
They were leaving him.
They were going to let him die.
Betrayal burned hotter than the cold.
Rage, shame, fear.
You promised me.
His father's voice, broken by memory.
Then another voice.
Soft. Dark. Smiling.
The words rose in him like heat.
He didn't say them. He released them. His mouth opened and the air cracked.
Et valen shuun krevantei.
From silence, I summon the chained star.
Dunv an ki suu van kii.
Bind now to the breath I offer.
Narver rii ryu mors.
Devourer, hear me through death's gate.
Velak tairn un vasthrenai.
From chains, rise and remember.
Esh'kai lun devareen.
By blood, oath, and old dominion.
Teshk vorran, teshk vorran.
Break the gate, break the gate.
Et valen shuun krevantei.
From silence, I summon the chained star.
Voruun esh sa'el Narathuun.
Seventh Prince of Envy, come forth.
The river answered.
A roar tore through the world.
The waters split, rose, spiraled. Lightning laced the current. The sky turned black.
From the river's heart, a shape emerged.
Towering, monstrous.
Her body was water and shadow and glowing wound. A serpent who could circle an fleet of boats with enough body left to cover the sun.
The Leviathan.
Her voice wasn't sound. It was gravity.
The cliff shattered. Screams rang out. The students fled, slipping, tripping over one another.
Katsu rose, lifted by the magic flooding his bones. His eyes burned red.
Symbols flared across his skin.
And then it all vanished.
Light gone. Wind silent.
Katsu collapsed to the snow, unconscious.
...
Alone.
The rosé field bloomed around him again.
Micah—No. Katsu floated at its center.
What hovered ahead wasn't a sphere this time. It was a woman.
She stepped from the haze, pulling herself free from the bones of time, she was cloaked in pale ivory, scripture half-remembered in a dream.
The cloak parted only slightly as she walked, revealing glints of silver armor shaped to accentuate, not conceal. The edges soft, the detail intricate, ancient.
Two horns arched from her skull, bone-pale and curved. Remnants of something once divine, or monstrous.
Between them sat a band of gold crowned with foreign script, a coronet more like a tiara.
Her black hair framed her face in perfect symmetry, except for a streak of white that fell like a blade of winter across one eye.
That eye... Those eyes? Golden and pupils slit like a serpent's.
They didn't simply look at him; they read him, unwound him.
Judged what was buried in his marrow. Her presence draped the air in sanctity, as if the act of looking was trespass.
When she reached for him, her hand was cool and impossibly gentle.
Fingers like silk dragged across glass.
Her touch didn't comfort. It marked.
She tilted her head, lips soft and parted, that serpent-smile touching the corners of her mouth like an unspoken curse.
"I will make you more than a Disciple," she whispered.
Her voice poured like oil over embers. Sweet, slow, and burning at the root. "You will be King."
The words wrapped around his ribs like bindings from a vow he didn't remember taking.
Her hand cupped his face now, firm, reverent.
"I owe you my life… Descendant of Velthra."