The basin hadn't even thawed by the time rumors began. Whispers moved faster than heat; by sundown, the lake wasn't the only thing frozen.
Katsu's name slid through the halls like frost beneath a door. Soft at first, then everywhere.
He heard it from stairwells, from corners, from the crackle of magic-glass mirrors when students thought they were alone.
"Sydney flinched."
"She looked like she was about to cry."
"No apology."
"He didn't even care."
Some of them whispered like it was gossip.
Some like it was prophecy.
"Did you see the way she backed away?"
"I heard he nearly froze her whole hand."
"And the basin. It cracked. Not frozen clean, not shaped—just cracked."
"Velthra's unstable."
"I think House Dravantiir saw it happen."
That last one landed sharper than the rest. Because Rei Dravantiir didn't speak.
He just watched. And he'd watched Katsu.
Sydney didn't talk to him the next day. Or the day after. Not even a glance.
She found a new seat in every class, never beside him, never behind him, always three rows over or more. She laughed louder now with her friends: Amira from Soryuun, Elvyn from Kavaleth. It wasn't forced, but it wasn't natural either. The kind of laugh that dared him to listen.
He did.
He caught every one.
Even when he told himself not to. He did partnered assignments by himself.
The isolated prodigy is what he was called.
Still compared to Dravantiir.
Sooner or later the bell rung.
At breakfast, she passed him without pause, a tray in both hands, headed to the other side of the hall.
The same hand that had touched the water.
The same hand she'd held close to her chest, burned with cold. She hadn't flinched since.
But she hadn't looked at him, either.
That hurt him.
More than any atomic bomb could.
The Leviathan didn't say anything to him, didn't help. Didn't poke. She won. And now he was truthfully alone.
Is this what she wanted?
"Hey. Nori."
Uiscel never raised his voice..
Just a glance. A presence.
He called out to Katsu when he was walking past his classroom Katsu turned without speaking.
Uiscel leaned against the frostbitten railing, arms folded, mouth unreadable.
"You've made quite the impression."
Katsu said nothing. Just stood there, hood half up, frost clinging to the hem of his sleeves.
Uiscel's gaze slid toward the courtyard below. Students crossed in twos and threes, their laughter thin in the wind.
"She's not hurt. I asked. She told me she's fine."
The corner of Katsu's mouth moved "…Good."
"But that's not what people are saying, is it?"
Katsu didn't reply.
Uiscel finally turned to look him in the eyes.
"You're powerful, Katsu. That's not in question. But isolation? It's not strength. Not here."
A pause. Sharp wind. The scent of pine and iron and old magic drifted through the open arches.
"Velthra's history is written in silence and blood. You don't have to repeat it."
Still, Katsu didn't speak.
Uiscel straightened.
"Be careful. It's not your enemies who'll break you. It's the people you ignore."
Then he walked away.
That night, a note waited on his desk when he returned from library patrol.
It wasn't folded carefully. It was creased and sharp-edged, like it had been written fast.
Just a wax seal, cracked but unmistakable. The chained eye of Dravantiir. No name.
Katsu opened it slowly, fingers cold.
House Dravantiir issues formal challenge to House Velthra.
Duel conditions accepted.
Names marked: Rei Dravantiir. Katsu Nori.
Location: South Grounds.
Time: Dawn.
Failure to attend is forfeiture of claim.
That was all.
No preamble. No explanation.
He read it once.
Then again.
His heartbeat didn't any faster, nor did his hand didn't shake. But something inside him folded.
Tight.
He placed the note flat beneath his pillow. He didn't sleep. The Leviathan waited until his eyes were closed. She didn't knock. Didn't ask.
Her presence uncoiled like ink in clean water.
Slow, inevitable.
"Are you going to run?"
He didn't answer.
She drifted closer.
Her breath cool, her tone amused.
"I warned you. That one—Rei—he's not here to test you. He's here to mark you."
He turned his face toward the stone wall.
She leaned down beside him, her fingers brush the curve of his shoulder like the edge of a knife.
"You could decline."
"I know."
"You'd lose your claim."
"I know."
Her voice lowered, intimate, dangerous.
"You'd lose her."
He turned then. Not fast. Not angry.
But her eyes lit up anyway.
"Good," she whispered. "Because you were born for this. And if you run from it… you lose both your enemy and your friend."
He looked at his hands.
He hadn't attended any of his wind or earth classes after the situation with Sydney.
Not mentally, at least.
"Velan dei shuun nar'vorr.
Krevantei sa'el Narathuun"
The Leviathan smiled.
"Now you're speaking my language."
—————
Word spread before the sun did.
By the time Katsu stepped onto the training grounds, the snow had been cleared and a ring had been carved into the stone. Clean lines. No frills. Just enough room for truth.
Velthra's banner hung above the west arch. Dravantiir's on the east.
The students had gathered early, bundled in coats, half-tired and half-thrilled, whispering over steaming flasks and magic-heated gloves.
"Katsu Nori versus Rei Dravantiir."
"They're actually fighting."
"No teachers are stopping it?"
"It's sanctioned. House to House."
"They say Rei doesn't even need a weapon."
"He is the weapon."
Katsu stood at the far end of the ring.
The Velthra robe rested heavy on his shoulders, still black as night, still bright with silver seams.
His breath fogged the air. His hands were bare.
He waited. He didn't look for her.
He didn't need to.
He knew the moment Sydney saw the roster.
The hush fell. Just a ripple.
Her boots stopped on the stairs.
Her gaze flicked to the board. Then to him.
Their eyes met.
Just once.
No words.
Then she turned and walked away.
Not fast.
Not angry.
But that was worse.
He watched her go until the cold rose through his shoes again. Rei arrived without warning.
No horn. No chant. No footsteps.
Just… presence.
He crossed the threshold like he'd always belonged inside it, a violet sash trailing behind him, his expression unreadable, unimpressed, untouched by the cold or the crowd.
He stopped ten feet away, eyes on Katsu.
Didn't smile.
Didn't blink.
"Velthra," he said, and it wasn't a greeting. It was a pronouncement.
Katsu answered without words.
The air between them thinned.
A professor in long gray robes stepped forward, holding a silver-bound scroll.
"This is a formal duel by House challenge. First to yield or incapacitate. External intervention voids the claim. Witnessed by the Circle of Three."
The teacher's eyes flicked between them.
"…Begin."
Rei didn't move. Not yet.
Katsu felt it before he saw it.
The air. The current. The way the snow lifted before falling again.
Then Rei did move.
Fast, impossibly smooth, his hand lifting, no chant, no spellform. Just intent.
Katsu raised his hand to meet it.
No fire this time. No flourish.
Just water.
Just breath.
And the ring exploded.