Aether is it?

Silence still hung heavy in the arena as Vale lowered his dagger. He stepped back from Lior, breathing hard, shadows flickering behind his eyes before vanishing entirely.

The instructor, voice cautious but firm, repeated:

"Victory to Vale Lumire."

It should have been decisive. Settled. The official ruling.

But Lior didn't move.

He just stood there, red-faced and trembling, spear lowered to the ground as his gaze burned holes in Vale's back.

Around them, whispers spread like wildfire:

"Did you see that move?"

"He disappeared—"

"No, it was…like he shifted."

"What the hell is he?"

Vale didn't answer them. He kept his eyes on the ground, daggers returned to his belt, chest rising and falling as he tried to control his ragged breathing. The exertion had left his body shaking slightly, though he held himself steady by sheer will.

Lyra watched from the front row, fingers clenched on the railing. She'd seen it too—the way the shadows had peeled off Vale like living ink, flickering in and out of the aether.

That wasn't normal.

That was something old.

Something forbidden, if you listened to the academy rumors.

Lior SnapsFinally, Lior moved.

He didn't raise his spear. Instead, he hurled it to the ground with a metallic clatter that echoed across the arena.

"You cheated," he spat.

The instructor frowned. "That's enough, Lior—"

"NO," Lior barked, glaring. "He cheated. No first-year fights like that. That was some…some forbidden art."

Vale slowly turned, meeting Lior's furious eyes with unreadable calm. He didn't speak.

Lior advanced on him, nostrils flaring, sweat and soot streaking his handsome face.

"You think you're clever? Think you're special because you can do parlor tricks? You humiliated me in front of the entire school!"

Vale's eyebrow twitched. He exhaled slowly. "You lost. Accept it."

That was the wrong thing to say.

Lior's face went crimson. He lunged, grabbing Vale by the collar before anyone could stop him.

Vale didn't even flinch. He let Lior lift him slightly off the ground, their noses inches apart.

The instructor shouted for them to stand down, but neither moved.

"You think you're better than me?" Lior hissed, voice cracking with fury. "Your house might outrank mine, but you're just some…some disposable third son no one even cares about!"

Vale's fingers twitched near his daggers.

Lyra's heart stopped.

She could feel the rage pulsing off Vale like heat from an oven. His eyes had gone hard, colder than steel.

He didn't say a word.

He didn't need to.

Breaking Point"Enough!" the instructor barked, seizing Lior's arm. It took real strength to pry the older boy's fingers off Vale's collar. "The duel is over. The point was awarded. Accept your loss with dignity."

Lior wrenched away, breathing hard, face twisted in ugly anger.

He pointed at Vale. "This isn't over."

Vale didn't blink. "It is for now."

That only enraged Lior further. He jerked his arm free of the instructor, storming off the arena floor without another word. Students parted like the sea to let him pass, some staring in fear, others in gossip-fueled delight.

AftermathSilence fell over the grounds for a beat.

Then it broke in a wave of noise.

Students whispered and chattered:

"He actually won…"

"Is that some secret House Lumire technique?"

"Lior lost…"

"What was that darkness?"

Vale ignored them all, rolling his shoulder and checking the burned gash along his arm. Blood oozed sluggishly, staining his uniform. He glanced at it, unimpressed.

Lyra sprinted to his side, grabbing his wrist.

"You idiot." Her voice shook slightly. "You didn't have to do that."

He met her eyes—serious, focused, but weary.

"He asked for it."

"Vale, you used it." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "That…that thing. The shadow…whatever."

He looked away. "I know."

Lyra swallowed. She glanced around at the curious onlookers and lowered her voice even more. "It's risky. It's not stable. Vale—"

"I know," he snapped softly, then exhaled. "Sorry. I know."

She frowned at him, but squeezed his wrist anyway. "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah."

Instructor's WarningTheir instructor, Master Verdan—a tall, bearded man in his forties with the patience of a saint and the glare of an executioner—walked up to them. He folded his arms over his broad chest.

"Vale Lumire."

Vale straightened slightly. "Sir."

Verdan's eyes were hard. "Your technique. I've never seen anything like it."

Vale said nothing.

"It's dangerous," Verdan continued. "It could kill you if you lose control. Or kill someone else if you're not careful."

Vale's jaw flexed. "I'll control it."

Verdan looked like he wanted to argue. Then he sighed. "See that you do. You've won this duel, and your record will show it. But you'll be monitored more closely from now on. I won't have students dying in my class."

Vale nodded once. "Understood."

Verdan turned to Lyra. "And you. Stop looking like you want to smack him."

She blinked. "I do want to smack him."

"That's what I thought," Verdan muttered, shaking his head as he walked away. "Hopeless pair."

Lior's DepartureMeanwhile, Lior stalked off to the edge of the grounds where his friends hovered. He was still fuming, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.

One friend tried to console him. "You'll get him next time, Lior—"

"Shut up," Lior hissed, shoving him away. He ripped off his practice gear, breathing in ragged, angry bursts.

He clenched his fists so tight his nails drew blood.

How dare he.

A common-born third son, beating him in front of everyone? Using…whatever that was?

He swore he'd make Vale Lumire pay.

He'd humiliate him. Crush him. Make him beg.

Private WordsBack in the changing area, Vale sat on a bench with Lyra hovering in front of him, fussing over the burn on his arm.

"You're lucky this wasn't worse," she muttered, dabbing salve from a small vial. "Idiot."

"Thanks for the medical insults," Vale deadpanned.

She glared at him, but her fingers were gentle. "You scared me. When you did that shadow thing. It wasn't normal."

"I know," he admitted quietly. "It felt…right. But also wrong. Like I knew how, but my body wasn't ready."

Lyra chewed her lip. "Synchronisation?"

He didn't answer immediately. Then he nodded. "Probably."

She sighed, tying a light bandage around his arm. "You're going to get yourself killed."

He met her eyes, and something softened in his expression. "Not before you."

She tried to scowl. It didn't quite work.

AfterWhen they emerged from the changing room, most of the crowd had dispersed—but the rumors had already started.

Vale Lumire.

The Shadow Duelist.

The first-year who beat a second-year with something unnatural.

Lyra looked at him sideways. "Congratulations. You're officially famous now."

He exhaled slowly, eyes distant. "Great."

As they walked back toward the dorms, Vale felt the weight of the duel settle on him like a second skin.

He'd won.

But at what cost?

And in the back of his mind, he could still feel it. That darkness. That shift.

Waiting.

Hungry.

Ready to be used again.