The Veyra estate was nothing like the academy. Where the dormitories were plain and practical, the Veyra home shimmered with wealth. Water channels ran through marble corridors, flowing into crystalline pools that seemed to glow from within. Tall windows let in the pale afternoon light, reflecting off the water until the entire hall looked alive, as though it breathed.
Feyla moved through it quietly, her slippers making almost no sound on the polished floor. She had been home for three days now, but it felt less like a break and more like a cage. Everywhere she turned, her family reminded her of who she was supposed to be — the heir of the Veyra bloodline, one of the three families that ruled this world.
This morning had been no different.
Her father stood tall at the balcony, watching the water flow down the mountain streams that supplied the estate. "Your control is impressive, Feyla," he had said, his voice smooth but heavy. "But talent without purpose is wasted. Remember, we are not just water-shapers. We are the Veyra Family. Oceans bend to us. Do not forget what you represent."
She had bowed, answered politely, and then excused herself the moment she could.
Now, sitting by the great reflecting pool in the center of the estate, Feyla let her toes dip into the cool water. She raised her hand and shaped the liquid without thought. A ripple curled into a perfect ring, then stretched into a sphere, floating just above her palm. Her control had grown sharper than ever. But today she felt distracted. The sphere wobbled, broke apart, and splashed back into the pool.
Her mind kept drifting back to Kael.
She could still see it — the moment he had been carried into the academy on Jorin's back, limp and pale. She hadn't been able to breathe until she saw his chest rise again. That boy was supposed to be a blank, weak, someone no one expected anything from. And yet seeing him hurt like that had left her chest tight for days.
"Your thoughts are elsewhere," a voice said behind her.
Her mother's reflection shimmered in the pool before Feyla turned. Lady Veyra stood tall, robes flowing like running water, her dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes softened as she studied her daughter.
"You've been quiet since returning," her mother said. "Quieter than usual."
"I've just been… thinking," Feyla replied.
Her mother's lips curved. "Thinking of that boy? The one who nearly died?"
Feyla's cheeks warmed instantly. "No! I—It's nothing like that. I don't have time for boys. You've said it yourself."
Lady Veyra laughed softly. "I said you don't have time for distractions. But sometimes, distractions are the only things that remind us we're still human." She reached out, brushing Feyla's cheek before walking away, leaving her daughter blushing in silence.
Feyla turned back to the pool, her heart unsettled. She lifted both hands, shaping the water again. This time she formed a spear, its tip razor-sharp, its shaft trembling with her control. She held it there, staring at her own reflection beneath the weapon. The face that stared back was calm, disciplined — everything her family wanted her to be. But under it all was a ripple she couldn't still.
Kael's face flashed in her mind. The way he clenched his fists when he failed, the stubborn way he stood back up even when beaten, the fire that flickered at his fingertips even though it was never truly his.
She let the spear collapse with a splash, sending ripples racing across the pool.
Why does it matter so much? she wondered. Why him?
Because despite all his flaws, despite the fact that he was supposed to be nothing, Kael had something she couldn't name. Something she respected… maybe even admired.
Night fell slowly over the Veyra estate, painting the waters in silver. Feyla remained by the pool until the stars showed in the ripples. At last, she stood and whispered into the quiet night:
"Stay alive, Kael… I want to see how far you can go."
The water carried her words away in soft ripples, as though it had heard and agreed.