The storm had been restless for days. Neel felt it in his bones, in every crack of lightning above the Academy's towers. Each time the Whisper coiled through his mind, it felt sharper, hungrier.
But what gnawed worse than the serpent's voice were the eyes. Always the eyes. Students watching him in the halls, in the mess, in training — wary, fearful, waiting for him to explode.
It wasn't just whispers anymore. It was distance. Isolation. Betrayal.
–––
On the third morning after the Ember Hall, the instructors ordered combat drills in the Outer Yards — a wide expanse of scorched earth ringed with wards. The kind of place where accidents could happen without anyone beyond noticing.
Neel stood at the edge, waiting for his name. Leela hovered nearby, biting her lip, while Shanaya stretched with lazy grace, flames dancing at her fingertips. Aarav and his knot of supporters lingered opposite, their glances sharp as knives.
When Neel's name was called, Aarav stepped forward too.
The instructor frowned. "Menon, you were paired yesterday."
"I insist," Aarav said smoothly. "It's only fair. We've all seen Sharma's… talents. Let us test if he can control them."
The circle erupted with whispers. The instructor hesitated — but curiosity gleamed in his eyes. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. To the circle."
–––
Neel's stomach twisted. He knew this wasn't a duel. It was a trap. But refusing would brand him a coward.
He stepped into the warded circle. Aarav smirked, firelight already coiling at his hands.
"Ready, Serpent-boy?" he sneered under his breath.
Neel clenched his fists. "I'm not your monster."
"We'll see."
The horn sounded.
–––
Aarav struck first. Flame burst forward in a whip, snapping toward Neel's chest. Neel dodged, lightning sparking reflexively from his fingertips. The crowd gasped as the ground scorched.
Aarav laughed, circling. "See how quick he is to unleash? Not even a minute, and the serpent's out."
The crowd murmured. Neel's pulse hammered.
He tried to keep his power small, measured — a spark, not a storm. But Aarav pressed harder, flame after flame, driving him back. The wards glowed brighter, heat thick in the air.
Leela shouted from the edge, "Neel, don't! He wants this!"
Her voice cut through, steadying him. He breathed deep, forcing the lightning to his palms only, not his chest.
But then Aarav's allies moved. Three of them slipped forward, their elements flickering. Earth walls rose behind Neel, cutting off escape. A shard of ice hissed past his shoulder.
The instructor barked, "Stay back!" — but made no move to intervene.
Neel realized the truth. This wasn't just Aarav. The instructors wanted to see what he'd do cornered.
–––
The storm inside him surged. Fire pressed in from Aarav, ice and stone from the others. His veins throbbed with lightning, his chest seared with flame. He couldn't hold both at bay.
"Break them," the Whisper hissed. "Burn them. Tear their chains. Let me loose."
"No!" Neel growled aloud, fighting it.
But the pressure mounted. His skin glowed faintly, sparks crackling over his arms. The earth groaned beneath him.
The crowd gasped. "He's losing it!" someone cried. "He's going to blow!"
Leela shoved forward, water bursting from her hands, dousing a stream of Aarav's flame. "Enough!" she shouted, her eyes wild. "You'll kill him!"
But Aarav only laughed, fire roaring higher. "That's the point!"
–––
Then Shanaya moved.
She strode into the circle, ignoring the instructor's barked protest. Flames blazed in her palms, her hair whipping in the heat. She planted herself between Neel and Aarav, her eyes blazing.
"Back off, Menon," she said coolly. "Or face me instead."
Aarav's smirk faltered. "What—why would you defend him?"
Shanaya didn't smile. Her gaze flicked briefly at Neel, then back. "Because I won't let anyone else break him. He's mine to fight. No one else's."
Gasps rippled through the circle. Even Neel froze, shock cutting through the storm.
Aarav's face twisted with rage. "Then burn with him!"
–––
The fight erupted. Aarav hurled flame at both of them. Shanaya countered with her phoenix fire, dazzling gold against his red. Neel, half-broken, staggered forward to shield Leela as stray blasts rained toward her.
Three storms collided — Aarav's fury, Shanaya's pride, Neel's chaos. The wards groaned, cracks spiderwebbing in the circle. Students scrambled back.
And in the center of it all, Neel felt the Whisper surge.
"Yes… fight them. Burn them all. Let me free…"
The last chain rattled in his mind.
–––
Neel dropped to his knees, clutching his skull. The storm burst outward, lightning and fire merging into a shriek of raw power. Shanaya staggered back, eyes wide. Aarav fell, his flames sputtering.
In that moment, everyone saw it. Not boy, not initiate. Vessel. Serpent. Storm barely bound.
The Whisper laughed in his head, triumphant. "One more chain, Shattered One. Just one…"
–––
The instructors rushed in, staffs blazing, wards slamming down. The storm was caged, but barely. Neel collapsed, half-conscious, smoke rising from his skin.
The crowd was silent, stunned. Shanaya stared at him, her chest heaving, fire flickering weakly at her hands. Leela knelt beside him, weeping openly, her waterlight healing his burns.
Aarav sat where he'd fallen, his smirk gone, replaced by pale, wide-eyed fear.
For the first time, even he realized it:
Neel wasn't just dangerous.
He was unstoppable — if he ever broke.
–––
That night, the Academy's whispers were no longer just fear.
They were prophecy.
The Serpent's vessel will break. And when he does, the world will burn.
–––