The walk back from the terrace wasn't long, but it felt like the whole Academy was shifting its weight around him. Eyes tracked him from doorways and balconies, some curious, some calculating, some openly wary now. Whatever the Houses thought they knew about Coren Vale before — that had just changed.

Mira was still talking at the speed of panic.

"You REFUSED them. Refused FELDREN. Cor— I mean—Coren, that's like refusing gravity. They don't make offers. They don't even make suggestions. You said no to a House that basically eats uncertainty for breakfast!"

He didn't slow. "Good."

"GOOD?!" She ran to keep up. "Oh, wonderful, yes, let's wave at the angry disciplined murder-gods and tell them 'no thank you, I'm full.' Perfect plan."

Atrius caught up more quietly. "Mira. Breathe."

"You breathe! I'm having a crisis!"

Atrius ignored her and matched pace with Coren. "You held the sphere without destabilization?"

"Yes."

Atrius stared at him for a long moment. "…Damn."

"Is that good?" Mira breathed.

"That's terrifying," Atrius muttered. Then, to Coren: "And it's exactly why they want you now."

He stopped them at the base of the courtyard steps, lowering his voice.

"They think you're something they can shape. A blade with no House history. No loyalties. No anchor. They'll test you again — with something harder. Something designed to break a crack open."

Valenna's voice laced cold around Coren's ribs.

Let them try.

Atrius continued. "You need to lie low today. No sparring. No aura work in public. No confrontations. The Houses will be watching you from every angle to see what you do next."

Coren said nothing.

Mira folded her arms, jittery. "So… what, we just pretend everything's normal?"

"That's exactly what we do," Atrius said. "Appear predictable. Boring. Unthreatening."

Coren asked, "And if someone approaches me?"

"Do nothing," Atrius said firmly. "Do not escalate. Do not react. If they provoke you, walk away."

Valenna hissed.

He is no one's prey.

Coren's jaw tightened. "If they force my hand—"

"Then you force it back," Atrius said, low, serious. "But let me deal with that first."

Coren gave a slow nod.

Mira pointed a finger at him. "I'm sticking to you all day. If Feldren tries to drag you off somewhere creepy again, I'm biting someone."

"You'd break your teeth," Atrius said.

"Worth it," Mira muttered.

They reached the mid-level courtyard — and immediately felt the shift in the air.

Students parted around him.

Not dramatically.

Not obviously.

Just… instinctively.

Like prey moving out of a predator's path without fully understanding why.

Mira elbowed him. "Okay, so, uh, good news? You look scary now. Bad news? You look scary now."

A trio of upper-year students whispered near the fountain, casting glances at him like they were watching a weapon being carried through the hall.

"…that's the one Feldren summoned…"

"…he refused them. Who refuses Feldren?"

"…Estrix and Feldren circling the same student? That's—"

They quieted when Coren passed.

Atrius sighed. "You see? This is what I meant. This is the worst possible kind of attention."

But before they could move further, another figure stepped into their path.

Not Feldren.

Not Estrix.

A tall girl in Adelphi colors — pale blue, silver trim — carrying a stack of rune-marked books and wearing the expression of someone who hated being involved in other people's business.

She stood directly in front of Coren.

Mira whispered, "Oh gods. Now what."

The Adelphi girl spoke in a crisp, measured voice.

"Coren Vale."

He stopped.

She continued, "Adelphi requests a conversation."

Atrius swore under his breath. "And now them. Wonderful."

Mira whispered, "Why does EVERYONE want you all of a sudden? Did you step on a god somewhere?"

The girl didn't blink. Adelphi students rarely blinked. "We won't force your time. But the Archivist says this: 'When two Houses move, the third must observe.'"

Coren blinked once. "About what?"

"You," she said plainly.

Valenna curled, colder.

They are hunting patterns.

The girl didn't approach further, simply added:

"If you wish to avoid attention, do not come. If you wish neutrality… come at noon."

Then she turned and walked away.

Mira watched her go and then grabbed Coren's arm.

"Noon?! Coren, you have classes at noon—actually wait no we definitely don't care about classes right now. But do NOT go. Adelphi will dissect you. With questions. Slowly."

Atrius rubbed his face. "Three Houses showing interest in twenty-four hours. This is—this is politics. You are in the middle of politics now."

Coren remained still.

Mira tugged harder. "Say something, please."

He finally did.

"…I'll go."

Mira made a sound like a dying animal. "WHY."

Atrius held up a hand. "Because he's right to. If he rejects Adelphi outright, they'll assume he's aligning with Feldren. And if Feldren believes that too—"

Valenna finished coldly within him.

They will tighten their grip.

Mira groaned. "Okay, fine, but if they steal your soul or whatever, I'm coming in after you."

Atrius sighed. "Just… try not to provoke any more Houses today."

Coren started walking again.

"I'll be careful."

Valenna whispered with quiet amusement.

You will not. But it will be interesting.

He didn't deny it.

The walk toward the Adelphi wing was quieter.

Not calm—never calm—but quieter in the way deep water is quiet: heavy, watchful, aware of everything that moves through it.

Mira paced beside him like she was walking into an execution. "Okay. Adelphi. Fantastic. The House of Knowledge. The House of somehow-knowing-everything-even-when-they-weren't-there. Cor—Coren, just—don't let them ask too many questions."

"That's their entire identity," Atrius muttered.

"Well they can un-identity themselves today."

Atrius stopped at the threshold of the marble corridor leading into Adelphi's domain. Sunlight filtered through pale-blue glass, turning everything cool and bright, like stepping into the inside of a spell.

"I can't go with you," Atrius said quietly. "They won't speak freely with a combat instructor present."

Mira flung her hands up. "Oh sure, let's leave him ALONE with people who treat curiosity like a weapon."

"It is a weapon," Atrius said. "And they're very good with it."

Coren stepped past the archway.

Mira grabbed him. "Hey. Don't—don't answer things you don't want to. They're nice. And terrifying. Nice-terrifying. The worst combination."

Atrius added, "If they ask about the duel, give nothing."

Coren nodded and walked through.

The doors closed behind him with a soft, final click.

Blue light washed over him. Runes hummed under the floor like a distant heartbeat. Scribes passed silently, robes whispering over stone. None of them approached. None of them made noise.

But all of them looked.

Whispers drifted like threads of cold silk.

"…that's him…"

"…Feldren moved last night…"

"…Estrix before that…"

"…why him?"

Valenna murmured, amused.

Because they smell a secret. And they are not wrong.

At the center of the atrium, a woman waited.

Young—maybe twenty. Robes immaculate. Hair in a tight silver knot. A stack of scrolls tucked under one arm.

She did not bow.

She measured.

"Coren Vale," she said.

He said nothing.

She nodded once, apparently satisfied. "Good. You don't waste words."

She gestured toward a side chamber. "Come. The Archivist wishes to speak with you."

He followed.

Inside, the chamber felt like stepping into a perfectly arranged mind—circles of books, inkstones aligned by color, candles at exact height intervals. A single desk sat at the center.

A man stood behind it.

Middle-aged, sharp-featured, pale eyes that looked like they'd been carved out of ice. His robe bore three silver sigils—Master Archivist rank.

He didn't smile.

But he didn't frown either.

He simply observed Coren the way someone observes an unknown creature that might rewrite a taxonomy.

"Coren Vale," he said softly. "Please. Sit."

Coren didn't.

The Archivist's lips twitched. "Very well. Standing is fine."

A long, brittle silence.

Then—

"You refused Feldren."

Not a question.

Coren stayed still.

"You also beat an Estrix heir. Decisively."

Still not a question.

Coren waited.

The Archivist tilted his head a fraction. "You have no House record. No lineage. No apprenticeship logs. You arrived with minimal documentation and a forged name."

Mira would have panicked. Atrius would have cursed.

Coren didn't blink.

Valenna whispered, cold and approving.

Do not deny. Do not confirm. Let him drown in the void between.

The Archivist continued, "I admire the thoroughness of the forgery. Whoever constructed your papers understood our system well."

Coren said nothing.

The man sighed softly. Not frustrated—curious.

"Three Houses now move around you. Estrix tested you. Feldren summoned you. Adelphi," he placed one hand flat on the table, "would prefer to understand you."

Coren finally spoke. "…Why."

"Because," the Archivist said, "power without context is dangerous. And you are contextless."

A long beat.

Then—

"Coren Vale, may I ask you a single, harmless question?"

Valenna's voice coiled tightly.

Do not permit familiarity.

Coren's reply was calm. "You may ask."

"Good," the Archivist said. "Then… what do you want?"

Coren didn't expect that.

Neither did Valenna; surprise flickered like frost along his wrist.

The Archivist continued, "Estrix wants prestige. Feldren wants control. Mira wants you alive. Atrius wants you trained." His pale eyes sharpened. "But you—what is your aim? I have yet to see you pursue anything for yourself."

Coren's gaze didn't shift. "Strength."

The Archivist's eyebrows lifted. "That's all?"

"For now."

The man considered that. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

Then he nodded.

"Very well. That is an answer Adelphi respects."

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