Aether is it?

The Aethercrest courtyard buzzed with energy. Blades clanged in training circles. Raw aether shimmered in the morning light. Among the chaos, Noctis—known in this world as Vale—stood locked in a spar with Ava, a.k.a. Lyra.

"Again," she said, breathing steadily. "You dropped your stance."

"Pretty sure you broke my stance," he muttered, parrying clumsily.

"Don't blame me for your lack of balance," Ava smirked, stepping in to disarm him. His practice sword hit the ground with a clack.

He let out a sharp breath, shadows still flickering faintly at his boots.

"You've got raw potential," she said, tossing his sword back. "But potential won't stop you from getting stabbed."

"Comforting."

They paused when the sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the courtyard.

"Well, well. So you're Lyra."

A tall boy strolled toward them. Flawless uniform. Chestnut-brown hair. Violet eyes gleaming like glass. His Wind Aether wrapped around him in elegant spirals, as though even the air obeyed him.

Kael Vireon.

Ava's expression soured immediately. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet. But I've heard of you." Kael offered a smile designed to impress. "Golden Aether? That's no small feat."

Noctis stepped slightly forward. "She's not looking for attention."

Kael didn't look at him. "That's a shame. Aether like yours shouldn't be wasted in the shadows."

Ava crossed her arms. "Let me guess—Windspire Duel Society?"

Kael gave a shallow bow. "Captain. Kael Vireon. Third year."

"Not interested."

"Everyone says that at first."

"No," she repeated flatly.

Kael's smile twitched, just a bit. "Then maybe your friend would care to prove himself."

He turned to Noctis. "Duel me."

Noctis raised a brow. "Why?"

"Because I'm curious. About you. And because I don't like being dismissed."

Noctis scoffed. "So this is about your ego."

Kael smiled coldly. "Call it sport."

Ava looked to Noctis. "You don't have to."

He rolled his shoulders and stepped forward. "I kind of want to."

Kael grinned. "Excellent."

The courtyard cleared. Students gathered, sensing blood in the air.

Master Caelum arrived, sighing heavily. "Formal duel?"

Kael nodded. "Friendly. First blood or disarm."

"Training weapons. Rank 1 Aether limit only. No summons."

Both boys stepped into the ring, opposite each other.

"Begin," Caelum called.

Kael moved first—a blur of motion and swirling wind. His blade came down like a whip, slicing the air with a shriek. Noctis barely raised his sword in time to block, stumbling back under the force.

Kael pressed the attack. Strike after strike rained down, precise and fast. Wind burst from his swings, slicing shallow gouges into the training stone. The onlookers murmured—Kael was flashy, but skilled. He fought like a prodigy who knew he was one.

Noctis dodged a sweeping gust and retaliated with a burst of shadows, but Kael was already airborne, flipping over him and landing behind.

"You're too predictable," Kael said.

Noctis gritted his teeth and twisted around, blade meeting Kael's in a shower of sparks.

He was fast—but not faster. Not stronger. And not better trained. His Aether responded to will, but it lacked finesse. Kael's Wind Aether, on the other hand, moved like an extension of his limbs—elegant, controlled, fluid.

A burst of wind slammed into Noctis's chest and sent him tumbling.

He landed hard. Groaned.

The crowd oohed.

Ava tensed, but didn't move.

Kael approached, weapon ready. "Last chance to yield."

Noctis slowly stood. His body ached. His sword arm throbbed. His shadows flickered—but wavered, uncontrolled.

Ava's voice rang out. "Get up, Vale."

He looked at her.

She wasn't worried. She was expecting something.

Noctis exhaled, forcing the fear out. Focus.

Kael lunged again. But this time, Noctis met him with a sudden burst of darkness—not aimed, not graceful—just wild. It surged upward in a jagged wall, blinding for a second.

Kael ducked under it—and slipped.

The wind he'd been riding had slicked the stone beneath him.

It was small—barely half a second—but it was all Noctis needed.

He surged forward and twisted, using his shadows to whip his blade at Kael's sword, disarming him.

The weapon clattered across the courtyard.

Silence.

"No way…" someone muttered.

"Disarmed," Caelum said. "Match to Vale."

The crowd burst into whispers.

Kael stared at the empty space where his weapon had been.

Then at Noctis.

His jaw tightened.

"That was luck," he said.

"Maybe," Noctis admitted, panting. "Still won."

Kael took a slow step forward. "We'll go again. A real duel. No restrictions."

"That's not how this works," Caelum said sharply.

Kael didn't listen. He stared Noctis down, fury simmering beneath his calm.

Then, as if remembering the eyes on him, he turned to Ava.

"You could've done better."

Ava's expression didn't change. "I already have."

Kael's face twitched.

Without another word, he turned and walked off—shoulders stiff, Aether dissipating like steam.

Later, near the edge of the training fields, Noctis slumped beneath a tree, shirt soaked with sweat. He winced as he touched his ribs.

"Next time," he muttered, "I want to lose with dignity."

Ava tossed him a waterskin and flopped down beside him.

"Wasn't that bad."

"I almost died."

"You slipped and exploited physics. It was kind of brilliant."

"It was kind of stupid."

She leaned back, arms behind her head. "Welcome to combat. Get used to feeling stupid."

He looked over at her, squinting through the branches. "Think he'll try again?"

"Oh, definitely."

"Great."

She glanced sideways. "Still… you held your own. That matters."

He didn't answer, just let the wind drift past them.

After a moment, she added quietly, "Next time, let's make sure you don't win by accident."

Noctis chuckled. "That… would be nice."