The days after the serpent's vision were not days at all. They were weights, pressing on Neel's chest until every breath felt stolen. The storm inside him simmered, no longer content to whisper — it clawed, restless, demanding release.
And the Academy's fear only fed it.
Students avoided him in corridors, their conversations falling into silence when he passed. Some left offerings of ash and salt outside his dorm, crude wards to keep him at bay. The whispers were worse than chains.
But no chain was as heavy as the summons that came at dusk.
"Report to the Ember Hall. By order of Archon Keshav Rao."
–––
The Ember Hall blazed with firelight when Neel entered. Torches roared on the walls, runes glowing red across the floor. The heat struck him like a forge.
At the center stood Keshav Rao, his staff raised, his eyes cold as steel. Around him, half a dozen lesser instructors formed a circle, their own staffs glowing with firelight.
"You will not control yourself," Keshav said flatly. "So I will control you."
Neel's chest tightened. "What does that mean?"
Keshav's staff struck the floor. Fire erupted in runes that spiraled outward, forming a circle around Neel. Chains of flame rose from the lines, writhing like serpents.
"It means we bind the chaos before it devours us all."
–––
The chains lashed out, coiling around Neel's arms, his chest, his legs. Heat seared through his skin. He cried out, lightning crackling from his hands — but the chains drank it, fire absorbing storm, tightening until his bones screamed.
"Focus!" Keshav barked. "Still yourself!"
Neel gasped. "I can't—"
"Then you will burn until you can."
The chains squeezed tighter. Sparks showered from his body, his storm thrashing wildly, colliding with flame. The air reeked of ozone and ash. His knees buckled, but the chains held him upright, crucified in light.
"Break them…" the Whisper hissed. "They cannot hold you. Nothing can. Burn them. Break free."
"No!" Neel roared, thrashing. Lightning burst from his chest, firestorm exploding outward. Instructors staggered back, shields flaring. The hall shook, torches toppling.
Keshav stood unmoved, his staff blazing brighter. "Again!" he thundered. "Bind him again!"
The chains returned, tighter than before. Neel screamed, vision going white.
–––
From the doorway, Leela Deshmukh gasped. She had followed him, unable to stay behind. Now she rushed forward, but an instructor barred her path.
"You'll kill him!" she cried. "He's not iron to be forged! He's flesh and blood!"
"Stay back," the instructor growled. "This is necessary."
Leela's eyes burned with tears, her wards glowing as if ready to lash out. "Necessary? You're torturing him!"
Her voice cut through Neel's haze. He blinked, vision clearing enough to see her — her hands outstretched, her face stricken. And for a heartbeat, the storm stilled.
–––
But another voice rose, venom sweet.
"Look at him," Aarav muttered from the crowd that had gathered at the hall's edge. "Barely chained and already breaking. If Rao doesn't end him, the serpent inside will."
The whispers spread like sparks, feeding the fire. Serpent. Monster. Cursed.
Neel's heart pounded. The chains burned deeper. The storm screamed.
–––
And then Shanaya stepped forward.
She did not plead like Leela. She did not mock like Aarav. She simply smirked, her fire curling at her fingertips.
"If he breaks," she said loudly, "it won't be because of chains. It'll be because no one dared face him." Her eyes locked on Neel, fierce and unblinking. "Fight them, Sharma. Not to escape. To master it. Prove it belongs to you."
Her words struck like lightning. Not comfort, not venom — challenge.
The storm surged. Fire and lightning roared together. The chains shattered, exploding into sparks that rained across the hall. Instructors stumbled back, shielding their eyes.
Neel collapsed to his knees, smoke rising from his skin, breath ragged.
–––
Silence fell. The broken chains hissed into nothing.
Keshav Rao's staff thudded once against the floor. His gaze, cold and sharp, fell on Neel.
"You are not in control," he said. "But you are not lost. Yet."
He turned to the others. "The chains will hold him again. And again. Until they either break him… or forge him."
–––
Later, when the hall emptied, Leela knelt beside Neel, tears streaking her cheeks as her waterlight soothed his burns. "I hate them," she whispered. "I hate what they're doing to you."
Neel shook his head weakly. "Don't. If this is what it takes to master it… then I'll endure."
Her hands trembled on his skin. "And if it kills you?"
His silence was answer enough.
–––
From the shadows, Shanaya's smirk flickered into something sharper. She had seen it — the moment Neel shattered the chains, the storm blazing around him like a second skin.
He wasn't broken. Not yet. And that terrified her more than it thrilled her.
–––