Chapter Thirty-Three: Jealous Gazes

Dawn's first light seeped through the high slits of the academy library, casting faint golden streaks across the stone floor where Roderic Vane sat, cross-legged in the shadowed nook—the black-bound tome Veil of Shadows: The Shattered Legacy resting heavy in his lap. Its cracked leather felt cool under his fingers, silver inlays glinting as dust motes swirled in the air, stirred by his final, shuddering breath as he closed it with a thud—pages creaking shut after a night lost to its revelations. His red novice robe pooled around him, boots scuffed from his trek, the slim Ember Codex—bound in red leather with gold-etched title—lay beside him, its purpose nearly forgotten in the wake of the relic's history unfurling before him. The shard in his core pulsed—a steady hum, its jagged edges a weight he now understood, its dual cultivation techniques (Joining Flame, Void Embrace, Soul Weave) and scattered kin a vivid blaze in his mind, stunning him with power and peril.

He stood—straw dust clinging to his robe—hazel eyes wide with awe and dread, qi flaring faintly as he tucked The Ember Codex under his arm, leaving Veil of Shadows on the low table, its etched shard image staring back, a mirror to his own. Other shards—out there, he thought—fire qi flickering in his palms—Need them—before they fall wrong. Vengeance burned—guilt for the academy's dead twisting it hotter—but power lagged, his Middle Initiate qi a spark to the god-tier threats looming. Dual path—secretly, he resolved—cultivation no jest—boots scuffing stone as he slipped out, the library silent save for his echo.

 He reached his dorm—straw pallet bare—shedding his robe, its torn edges fluttering as he stripped dust and sweat from his sun-browned skin with a damp cloth, water trickling cool over his lean frame, qi humming as he dressed in a fresh red robe, its crimson crisp against his form. Maris—session, he thought—grabbing The Ember Codex—boots thudding as he left, the relic's hum a quiet chant, urging him forward.

Maris Veyle's tower loomed in the Inner Crest—Roderic climbing the spiral stair, lotus scent curling in the air, knocking on her golden oak door, its crescent moon carving glinting. "Enter," her voice called—melodic yet firm—and he stepped in, gold walls glowing, blue flame brazier flickering at the center. Maris turned—silver-gold robe shimmering, her presence a quiet storm—hands on hips, emerald eyes sharp as she eyed him, The Ember Codex under his arm.

"You're late," she said, voice crisp, stepping closer, qi a radiant hum around her. "The Codex—good. What kept you?"

"Library—lost track," Roderic grinned—nonchalant—hazel eyes glinting as he handed her the book, its red leather catching the light. "Read more than I meant—dawn snuck up."

She took it—fingers brushing his, qi sparking faintly—flipping it open, silver-gold robe swaying as she scanned, emerald eyes narrowing. "All night? Your qi's steady—no fatigue. Unusual—even for you."

"Guess I'm built tough," he shrugged—lying smoothly—the relic's endless hum a secret pulsing, his night with Veil of Shadows locked tight. "What's the session—Codex stuff?"

Maris nodded—setting it on the table—voice measured. "Refinement—fire qi control. The Codex details flows—channels to sharpen your blaze. You're sloppy—strong, but wild. We fix that."

He leaned against the wall—hazel eyes steady—qi flaring faintly, fire qi a crimson flicker. "Wild's worked—burned through plenty. Why tame it?"

She arched a brow—emerald eyes piercing—stepping to the brazier, blue flames dancing as she gestured, qi flaring radiant. "Power without focus wastes—scatters like ash. You're Middle Initiate—too fast—others grind years for that. Precision matters—else it's just noise."

Roderic grinned—nonchalant fading—voice low, serious. "Fast's my edge—hit hard, keep moving. Precision's slow—too slow."

Maris's lips twitched—emerald eyes glinting—her qi pulsing, a shard of ice flaring in her palm, sharp and glinting. "Speed's a crutch—power's nothing if it misses. Watch." She flicked—ice lancing, piercing a target across the room, stone cracking with a snap, qi precise as a blade. "Control—then speed. You're not there."

He straightened—hazel eyes narrowing—fire qi flaring, a crimson ball forming in his palm, spinning tight. "Fine—show me." He thrust—flame blasting, charring the target's edge, heat rippling, qi wild but fierce.

She sighed—voice crisp—stepping closer, qi a radiant hum. "Close—wild still. Codex flows—breathe, channel, focus. Try—here." She tapped his chest—qi sparking—guiding his stance, hands firm on his shoulders, silver-gold robe brushing his arm.

Roderic exhaled—qi pulsing—fire qi swirling, spirit threading gold, following her lead, breath slowing, flame tightening into a spear, lancing sharp, piercing the target's center, stone sizzling black. "Better?" he asked—voice steady—hazel eyes glinting.

Maris nodded—emerald eyes assessing—voice softening. "Yes—progress. You're quick—too quick. What's driving you?"

He paused—hazel eyes flickering—the relic's hum a whisper, Veil of Shadows burning in his mind: dual rites, other shards, academy blood. "Attacks—want to be ready," he said—half-truth—voice low. "Lost too many—won't again."

Her gaze sharpened—qi flaring—voice crisp. "Vengeance? Careful—it blinds. Strength first—focus, not fury. Codex—read it, refine it. You're wild—dangerous wild. Rein it in."

Roderic grinned—nonchalant masking depth—hazel eyes steady. "Rein it—got it. But wild's my spark—won't lose that."

She stepped back—silver-gold robe swaying—voice firm. "Spark's fine—control it, or it burns you. Next session—bring focus, not just flames."

He nodded—qi humming—leaving with The Ember Codex, boots thudding down the stair, the relic's secrets and Maris's words a dual fire in his chest, pushing him to refine—secretly, his way.

Roderic stormed down the spiral stair of Maris Veyle's tower, the lotus scent clinging thick to his red novice robe—its crisp crimson edges flapping as his boots thudded hard on stone, The Ember Codex gripped tight under his arm. His qi roared—fire flaring crimson in his chest, spirit threading gold—a molten clash of Maris's biting words and the relic's pulsing secrets from Veil of Shadows: The Shattered Legacy. Her demand for control gnawed at him—Rein it, or it burns you!—but the dual cultivation rites burned brighter, a path he'd carve in shadow. His hazel eyes glinted—nonchalant grin nowhere—cultivation no jest as he hit the grounds, the morning sun climbing higher, casting sharp shadows over the academy.

He veered toward the training fields—boots scuffing stone—where students drilled, qi flickering faint from exhaustion, the relic's endless hum keeping his vigor sharp. Novices in red robes stumbled through forms, adepts sparred with muted clashes, seniors barked orders—all weary from the attack's toll, while Roderic's stride cut through, drawing glances—some awed, some narrowed. He spotted Cressida Lorne—silver-blue robe swaying—standing apart, her olive skin faintly pale, jet-black hair tied tight, violet eyes sharp as she guided seniors, ice qi curling sluggish from her palms.

He approached—hazel eyes locking hers—she glanced over, lips thinning, but didn't wave him off. "Cressida," he said—voice low, steady—dropping to sit beside her on a low stone ledge, qi pulsing as he leaned back, The Ember Codex thudding beside him. Her violet eyes flicked to it—then him—ice qi shimmering faint.

"You're bold," she said—voice crisp—serious edge unyielding, turning to face him fully. "Maris chew you out?"

"Something like that," he grinned—nonchalant flaring—hazel eyes glinting as he stretched, qi humming. "Told me to cage my fire—too wild, she says. You?"

Her lips twitched—violet eyes narrowing—ice qi flaring briefly. "Drilling them—sloppy lot since the attack. You're not panting—still fresh. How?"

"Built tough," he shrugged. "Saw you fighting—ice held strong, but you're off. Resting yet?"

She scoffed—seriousness hardening—voice sharp. "Rest? No time—someone's got to whip them into shape. Don't lecture me—your fire's a mess anyway."

"Mess that works," he shot back—grin widening—fire qi flaring brighter, a crimson spark dancing. "Burned plenty—wild's my edge. You're too tight—loosen up."

Her violet eyes flashed—ice qi spiking—voice cutting. "Tight keeps me alive—wild gets you dead! You're cocky—too cocky for a novice."

"Cocky wins," he said—hazel eyes steady—voice low, serious beneath the grin. "Saved my skin—yours too, shielding those kids. We're not so different."

She paused—violet eyes softening—ice qi simmering as she leaned closer, voice low. "Maybe—still reckless. What's driving you—truth, not shrugs?"

He hesitated—hazel eyes flickering—relic's hum a whisper, Veil of Shadows burning: rites, shards, blood. "Attack—want to be ready," he said—half-truth—voice firm. "Lost too much—won't again."

Her gaze held—seriousness yielding—voice softening. "Fair—lost plenty too. You're… stubborn. Persistent."

"Got to be," he grinned—nonchalant softening—hazel eyes warm. "You're tough—tougher than most. Keep up, frost queen."

She smirked—violet eyes glinting—ice qi curling faint. "Frost queen? Watch it—might freeze that grin off."

Their exchange drew eyes—novices whispering, adepts pausing, seniors glaring—Roderic's easy presence beside Cressida sparking envy, his Middle Initiate qi a quiet blaze outshining their weary flickers. One gaze burned hottest—Kael Draven, a senior of Cressida's rank—tall, broad, with ash-blond hair tied back, steel-gray eyes glinting malice in a silver-blue robe—strode forward, qi a sharp gust of wind rippling stone dust. A prodigy—Core Formation teetering—his talent rivaled hers, but his simpering devotion to Cressida turned heads, his every step a plea for her glance, her slightest nod fuel for his pride.

Kael stopped—steel-gray eyes locking Roderic—voice a low snarl, wind qi flaring. "Novice—scram! Cressida's not your perch—stick to your dirt!"

Roderic leaned back—hazel eyes glinting—nonchalant grin flaring, fire qi pulsing faint. "Dirt? I'm comfy—fields are free. Right, Cressida?"

Her violet eyes flicked—ice qi shimmering—voice crisp, cutting. "Kael—back off. He's not your fight—focus on drills!"

Kael's qi surged—wind gusting—steel-gray eyes narrowing, jealousy a venomous hiss. "Him? A low-class grunt—talented or not—stealing your time? I've bled for this rank—he waltzes in, grinning? I'll crush him!"

Roderic stood—fire qi flaring crimson—voice low, steady, no jest in his tone. "Crush me? Try it—windbag. I've faced worse—you're just loud."

Tension snapped—onlookers gathered—novices muttering, adepts edging closer, seniors circling—Kael's wind qi roaring, Roderic's fire qi pulsing, Cressida between—violet eyes flashing, ice qi spiking. "Enough!" she barked—voice a whip—ice shard lancing between them, cracking stone. "Kael—stand down! Roderic—sit! You're both CHILDREN!"

Kael glared—wind qi simmering—steel-gray eyes burning, voice a growl. "This isn't over—novice. She's mine to—"

"Yours?" Cressida cut—ice qi flaring—voice venomous. "I'm no prize—back off, NOW!"

Roderic sat—hazel eyes steady—fire qi dimming, grin returning, voice low. "Your simp's loud—needs a leash."

Kael's qi flared—wind gusting—but Cressida's ice qi lashed—shards pinning his robe, voice icy. "Out—NOW!" He stormed off—crowd buzzing—Roderic's grin widening, Cressida's violet eyes glinting, tension simmering as their bond flickered, a spark amid envy.