Focus and Intent

Master Theroa swept her gaze across the class, eyes lingering on him for a breath before continuing. She traced a sigil in the air.

Light flickered at her fingertips, casting shifting patterns over the stone walls.

"Welcome," her voice rang out, calm but edged with command. "This class is for those who've shown either remarkable control… or remarkable recklessness. Both are needed for mastery. Both will be tested here."

Several upperclassmen straightened in their seats. One tall, sharp-jawed, with a blue sash at his throat. Glanced back at Katsu, lips quirking in a half-smile that held no warmth.

A challenge?

Theroa let the silence settle.

"We'll begin with focus and intent. No words, no wands, no outward sign—only will. Let's see who can move the flame."

At the front of the room, a single white candle stood on a pedestal. Its wick was untouched, waiting. Unmoving, only slightly. Protected from wind by a glass barrier.

Theroa's gaze swept the class again.

"Who wishes to try first?"

Murmurs rippled through the students. No one moved.

From the back row, Katsu felt the familiar tug.

A blend of challenge and the bone-deep refusal to fade into the background. He looked up, meeting Master Theroa's eyes.

She tilted her head, lips curving ever so slightly. "Katsu Nori. Since you're the youngest in this room, you'll go first. Inspire your seniors."

Courage, Katsu.

I know, Levii.

He rose from his chair, pushing back the hush that rolled over the class. Every head turned, upperclassmen sizing him up, waiting for the spectacle or the failure.

Katsu stepped forward, hands loose at his sides, posture easy. At the front, a white candle waited, its flame a quiet dare.

He stared at it.

The flame bent toward him, wavering. For a heartbeat, nothing happened then the candle flickered out, snuffed by an unseen will.

Murmurs rippled around the room, the moment thick with expectation.

Katsu didn't break eye contact with the pedestal. He lifted one hand. No words, no gesture.

Just intent. The wick sparked, then burst back to life, burning brighter than before.

He let his hand drop, voice steady but wry. "Apologies for putting out the candle, Master Theroa. I wasn't sure the flicker was enough."

A ripple of laughter. Genuine, surprised. Rolled through the upperclassmen. Even the student with the blue sash grinned, despite himself.

Theroa's eyes glimmered with something like approval. "No need to apologize for precision. In fact, I appreciate initiative. Control is as valuable as power in this place."

She gestured to the class.

"Now, who will match the first-year?"

For the first time, Katsu didn't feel like a stranger or an intruder. As he walked back to his seat, he caught the eyes of the older students.

Some curious, some wary, but all of them, for a moment, seeing him as an equal.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, the Leviathan's pride curled warm and fierce.

Not bad, my king.

Katsu just smiled, letting the world tilt a little more in his favor. The lesson was only beginning, but this time, he was ready for whatever came next.

Out in the hallway, Sydney and Rei walked side by side. Sydney moved ahead, purposeful, her steps echoing in the quiet; Rei matched her pace, watchful as always.

"Do you think they've told Katsu about the threat yet?" Sydney asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Rei's reply was instant, cool as ever. "No. It would be reckless. He's not ready."

Sydney nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah… he isn't. You know, I talked to him—"

Rei's eyes flicked her way, a knowing look. "You wondered about his training?"

She stopped, turning to face him, frustration plain on her face. "Yes! I mean, he just appears out of nowhere and casually tells me his father drilled him on speechless casting at, what, six? Like it's the most normal thing in the world. Then in Wildglow, he mentions he hasn't seen his mom in years, and the General was already sick…"

Rei's gaze softened, a rare thing.

"Some families are just like that. It's worse when your House is leashed to the Academy, and they raise you to be an expert in things you barely care about. And I had it easier than most Dravantiir heirs."

He shook his head, the gesture more tired than dismissive.

"Katsu's what happens when potential crashes into discipline—relentless work, not just natural talent. And for someone like me, who's been drilled by Dravantiir standards… he's more powerful than I expected. That's exactly why I wanted to test him."

Sydney arched a brow. "Oh? So what, you picked a fight after seeing him in Uiscel's class?"

Rei allowed himself the faintest smirk. "Sydney, if it wasn't for Group 32, I wouldn't even know your name."

She nudged him, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling. "Keep lying to yourself, Mr. Storm."

He almost smiled back, and for a moment, the tension in the hall felt lighter.

Just enough for them to keep moving forward.

Back in the floating classroom, Katsu pressed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the chaos inside his own head.

Control, not recklessness, he reminded himself.

Right?

But the harder he chased calm, the more the old memories tangled with the Leviathan's whispers—reminders of power, warning of danger. The line blurred until he wasn't sure which side he was on.

He let out a tense breath and opened his eyes.

Master Theroa was already standing there, her gaze like winter sunlight. Bright, but distant.

"Can't focus?"

"Not today,"

Katsu muttered, rubbing his temple.

"It's hard to clear your mind when you're not sure what's hiding in it."

Theroa studied him a moment longer, as if seeing straight through the mask.

"That's when the test actually begins, young Wizard. If you can find discipline here, you'll be ready for the next trial."

He swallowed, glancing down at his hands.

"And if I can't?"

Her lips curved, almost secretive. "Then the Academy will decide for you…Perhaps you should have came to your previous classes."

Before Katsu could ask what she meant, the bell rang. Sharp, final. The upperclassmen began to rise, whispering and glancing his way, curiosity and caution in every look.

Katsu lingered, heart pounding, questions burning at the back of his mind.

Was he meant to master his power…

Or survive it?

Either way?

He had the uneasy feeling that tomorrow's lesson wouldn't be waiting for him to catch up.