The Academy had never been so quiet.
After the battle in the Outer Yards, whispers became a storm that no ward could contain. The training grounds still bore the scars — scorched earth, shattered wards, stone melted into glass where Neel's lightning had fused with fire. Every student had seen it: the boy with the Shattered Core, kneeling in the storm, eyes glowing like the serpent itself.
And so they whispered a new name for him.
The Vessel.
Neel sat alone in his dormitory, the storm coiling restless in his veins. The chains rattled in his head with every heartbeat, each crack of lightning outside his window echoing the serpent's voice. He pressed his palms against his temples, trying to silence it. But silence no longer existed for him.
"One more chain," the Whisper hissed. "One more… and dawn comes."
–––
At the heart of the Academy, in the Council Chamber, the Elders gathered. Torches hissed along the walls, their flames tall and still — wards of truth, burning away lies.
Elder Veyas slammed his staff against the stone. "This cannot continue! The boy is a threat. Every day he remains here, we gamble with our lives."
Another Elder snapped back, "And if we cast him out? You would unleash the serpent's vessel upon the wilds? On villages unprotected? On children?"
"Better that than within these walls!"
The chamber roared with argument.
Keshav Rao stood at the center, his presence like a drawn blade. His staff burned, a thin line of fire crawling up its length. He let the others rage until the noise was unbearable, then spoke, voice cutting like thunder.
"The boy cannot be expelled. The serpent calls to him. Wherever he goes, it will follow. Better he break within our chains than outside them."
Murmurs rippled — agreement, fear, doubt.
Then Elder Meera rose. Her eyes, soft but steady, locked on Keshav's. "Chains cannot hold forever. Fire cannot tame storm. What he needs is guidance, not imprisonment. You would forge him into iron when he is water and lightning both. Bend him, do not break him."
Keshav's jaw tightened, his silence heavier than any argument.
The Council remained split, the decision suspended like an axe above Neel's head.
–––
That night, Leela slipped past the guards outside Neel's dorm. She found him sitting by the window, face pale, eyes haunted by sleeplessness.
"You shouldn't be here," Neel murmured without turning.
"I don't care." She moved to his side, her braid falling over her shoulder as she sat. For a moment, she said nothing — just watched him, the stormlight flickering faintly across his skin.
"They're going to decide soon," she whispered. "I heard them. Some want you chained forever. Some want you gone." Her voice cracked. "Some want you dead."
Neel swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Maybe they're right."
Her hand struck his arm sharply. "Don't you dare say that."
He turned, startled, meeting her eyes. They blazed, wet with tears but fierce as any fire.
"You are not a curse," she said, her voice trembling. "You are Neel. The boy who pulled me out of the river when I couldn't swim. The boy who gave me half his lunch when I was starving. The boy who never laughed when I failed spells but always picked me back up. That's who you are. Not a serpent. Not a monster. Neel Sharma."
Her hand lingered on his, warm against the storm. For a moment, the whisper faltered.
Neel's voice was rough. "Leela… if I lose control—"
"Then I'll drag you back," she said fiercely. "Even if it kills me."
–––
Later, another shadow slipped into the dorm. Shanaya stood at the door, arms folded, her smirk gone, her eyes sharp and searching.
Leela bristled immediately. "What do you want?"
"Not you." Shanaya's gaze stayed on Neel.
Leela rose, fire in her eyes, but Neel raised a hand weakly. "It's fine."
Shanaya stepped closer, her cloak whispering against the stone. "You're worse than I thought," she said bluntly. "I saw it in your eyes. The serpent is already breaking free."
Neel flinched, shame twisting in his chest.
But then Shanaya's voice softened, almost imperceptibly. "And yet… you're still standing. That's what frightens me."
Leela scowled. "Frightens? You mean you're waiting for him to fall so you can prove you're better."
Shanaya ignored her. Her eyes never left Neel's. "You're my rival. That means if you fall, it will be my flames that end you — not theirs. Remember that."
Her words cut like steel, but there was no hatred in them. Only a strange, sharp respect.
She turned, cloak flaring, and vanished into the night.
–––
Across the campus, Aarav Menon sat in the shadows of the training yard with his loyal followers. His face was still bruised from the duel, his pride shattered but not his ambition.
"They hesitate," he muttered, voice low, venom dripping. "The Council argues. The boy lingers. The serpent stirs. Do you want to wait until it devours us all?"
His allies shifted uneasily. Aarav's smirk returned, thin and cold.
"No. We'll end this ourselves. Before Rao decides. Before Meera protects him. We'll make the serpent break — and when it does, they'll have no choice but to destroy him."
The firelight flickered in his eyes.
The plan was already forming.
–––
That night, Neel dreamed again of the crystal.
The chains rattled louder, six glowing faintly. The seventh, massive and black, cracked down its length.
The serpent's voice filled the darkness, no longer a whisper but a roar.
"Dawn comes, vessel. The last chain breaks. And when it does… the world will bow or burn."
Neel woke gasping, sweat cold on his skin, the storm sparking in his veins.
He knew.
Something was coming.
Something that would break them all.
---