KATSU NORI
RACE: HUMAN
CONDITION: STABLE [RECOVERING]
LV: 23
VIT: 193+0 / ATK: 31+0
MAG: 195+29 / AGI: 67+0
MAGIC TOOLS: N/A
TITLES: "LOST HEIR" » + «
"SUMMONER OF THE LEVIATHAN" » + «
"PRODIGY OF VELTHRA" » + «
MAGIC: Advanced Fire Control, ??? MAGIC
STATUS EFFECTS: N/A
—————
I stood outside now by the lake during his next class.
My classmates gathered at the edge. Sydney was somewhere on the other side. Mist clung to the surface of the lack.
Pine trees on all sides, around ten meters out from what I could call the lakes shore.
The shallow basins had been arranged in a loose ring near the water's edge.
Stone-carved.
Each wide enough for both hands.
Students took their places without instruction. The teacher hadn't arrived yet. Sydney hadn't came over.
Not yet.
I wonder if this was apart of the teacher's lesson?
Or maybe this was the lesson.
I moved to the far edge, the basin furthest from the rest. I kneeled. .
The sky above was pale and colorless. The lake through its reflection mirrored it perfectly.
Around me, water began to lift.
Fingers curled.
I tried to copy an incantation I just heard someone do to help me.
I've had no success.
Threads of mana sparked off my fingertips like static.
A girl to my left swirled a ribbon of water into a spiral.
A boy across from her shaped a dome of mist, thin and beautiful.
I could only look down.
My reflection stared back.
My father was a water mage, yet the way he used magic wasn't with incantation.
It was with feeling.
It was something I admired because he and water had built a connection strong enough to wash away cities.
That was who General Shizune Nori was. And that is who I, Katsu Nori, felt like I wasn't.
And maybe I never would be.
He reached toward the surface.
The moment my fingers touched the water turned to ice.
Not a smooth shell.
More violent. Frost burst outward from my hand in chaotic streaks.
The air snapped cold.
I snatched my hand away.
The ice hissed and cracked, melting fast. No one noticed. I tried again. Slower. Gentler.
The same thing happened again.
Even with no force, no words.
Just presence?
It froze beneath me.
Not out of power.
Out of rejection.
I stared at my palm.
What the hell is wrong with me?
...
"…What are you doing?"
The voice wasn't human. Itt slithered between thought and sound. Low, smooth, soaked in deep water.
I turned his head.
She stood beside me.
The Leviathan.
Her cloak trailed like the mist across the lake.. Her coronet shimmered with runes that sat with faint hunger.
Bare feet.
Pale ivory skin that nearly fit her cloak. Her eyes twin suns drowned in black. No one reacted.
Not a glance. Not a shift. They didn't see her. Only I could.
"You've told Syndey earlier how you through of the controlling of fire as pouring water out of a canteen."
She looked into my eyes tilting her head to be more infront of me than to the side.
"But now you're thinking of water as a flame,"
She said, voice barely louder than wind.
"Take your own advice. Water doesn't burn. It flows."
She stepped behind him.
Her hands were cool yet impossibly gentle as the feeling of her settled over me. I tensed. She almost frowned.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she said, smiling faintly "Or them." I said nothing. I didn't move.
I didn't fully trust her, but something in me wanted to. More than anything else right now.
Maybe it was her beauty, even when she smiled. Reminiscent to the child of an angel and succubus.
The only thing holding me down was his promise to his father.
Trust only those whose names you've written yourself.
I haven't written her name. Only spoken it. She guided my fingers back toward the basin.
Caressing my hands as she did so.
"You tried to command it. Fire lets you. Water doesn't."
Her hands moved with mine.
Slow circles, then spirals, then nothing at all.
Just breath. Just stillness.
"You want to use water?" she whispered. "Let it move first. Then follow."
I followed her instruction.
This time, when my fingers met the surface, it didn't freeze. It stirred.
A ripple. Small. Hesitant.
She guided me again.
"Don't pour. Don't pull. Drift."
I breathed. The water responded. Curves shaped beneath my hands
A spiral formed. Then another.
The basin shimmered with movement, not magic. Intent.
She released me, I didn't notice. The basin curved upward into a gentle arc. No glyphs. No incantation.
Just flow. Students began to notice.
One turned, then another. No fear this time. Just silence.
The Leviathan stepped away, expression unreadable. Not cruel.
Not proud. Just… watching.
"You're doing it," she said softly.
I didn't speak. I stared at the water, still moving, still rising.
My hands barely hovered above the surface now, guiding without touch.
She looked at me one last time.
"Don't master the river. Become it."
Her reflection vanished.
Only mine remained.
And the lake listened.
…
Ping!
[Advanced Water Control archived!]
…
Lirenth and Kairos walked the stone path alone, the sound of their boots hitting the marble floor bounced off the wall.
Kairos kept his gaze forward, unreadable as always.
Virenth's brow furrowed. "They're calling him a prodigy now. The general's son. Isn't that… sudden?"
Kairos didn't look over.
"Maybe. But we don't know who his mother was… Could be this isn't surprising at all."
"Shizune was strong," Virenth muttered. "But it was all discipline. Sweat and stubbornness. Not bloodline."
Kairos's mouth twitched.
"And what happens when discipline meets talent?"
Virenth didn't answer right away.
"You get something dangerous."
Kairos finally turned his head.
"No. You get a beast."
They stopped at the overlook.
Below, the lake shimmered. The boy was still there. Katsu. Water folding in his palms like it belonged to him.
Virenth crossed his arms. "He doesn't even know what he is yet."
Kairos nodded once. "He will."
"Should we tell him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because beasts raised in cages forget they have claws. Let him find his own reflection."
Virenth was quiet.
Until he wasn't.
"And if he looks in and sees the Leviathan?"
Kairos exhaled.
"Then we pray it listens to him."
Neither spoke as they passed through the vaulted hallway, the hush thick between stone and shadow.
Just before they turned the corner, the torchlight hit their backs. Silver embroidery flashed. An emblem.
A cracked mirror split by a single bleeding line, shined by the stars.
In the quiet that followed, the lake still moved in the distance.
Rippling not from wind, but from memory. From power recognized.
No.
Velthra had not chosen lightly.