The Celestial Academy did not panic.
It never panicked.
Its floating spires drifted calmly above the cloud sea, marble bridges suspended by runes older than most nations. Students trained, scholars debated, bells chimed on schedule. Order was law here.
So when Master Velin returned and requested an immediate High Council assembly, the reaction was… restrained.
Restrained—but sharp.
Within the Hall of Orbits, seven figures gathered around a circular table carved from starstone. Above them hovered a projection of the mana crystal's record—Euryale's awakening, perfectly preserved.
The image shimmered.
A single affinity.
Water.
And at its center—
A White Core.
Silence followed.
Then:
"That is impossible," said Archmage Solren, fingers steepled. "White Cores do not manifest at awakening."
"They manifest at completion," added Mistress Ilyth of the Arcane Codex. "After decades. Sometimes centuries."
Velin stood unmoving. "And yet."
The projection replayed. The crystal's gentle hum. The lack of instability. The purity.
No flare. No resistance.
Recognition.
High Chancellor Aurox leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing. "You are certain there was no secondary affinity?"
"I am," Velin replied. "Only Water."
A younger councilor scoffed. "Then he's a prodigy. Rare, yes. Dangerous? Hardly."
Velin's gaze snapped to him.
"Do you know," Velin asked calmly, "why the ancient sea myths were sealed from student archives?"
The room stilled.
"Because they frightened people," Velin continued. "Not with destruction—but with judgment."
He gestured, and the projection shifted.
Ancient script unfurled—glyphs predating mana theory itself.
When the world tilts too far toward arrogance,the Sea remembers.It sends no storm.It sends a keeper.
Mistress Ilyth inhaled sharply. "The Sea Wardens."
"A bedtime myth," Solren muttered.
Velin shook his head. "No. A failsafe."
Chancellor Aurox leaned back slowly. "You're saying the boy isn't powerful because he trained… but because he already finished."
"Yes, but I don't have a real answer right now." Velin said softly.
Silence pressed heavy.
Finally, Aurox spoke. "What do you recommend?"
Velin did not hesitate."We observe. We do not provoke. And for the love of the stars—"
He looked directly at them.
"Do not frighten him."
________________________________________
It happened three days later.
On laundry day.
Euryale had been sent to the river with Silas and Lyra to wash cloths—an assignment Pa had called "character building" and Silas had called "a crime against childhood."
Silas crouched by the water, aggressively slapping a shirt against a rock. "Why does dirt even exist?"
Lyra poked a stick into the river. "Because the ground is messy like you."
"I am artistically chaotic."
Euryale knelt beside them, dipping cloth into the current. The water parted smoothly around his hands, clear and obedient.
Too obedient.
Lyra squinted. "Euryale?"
"Yeah?"
"The sea… just stop wave"
"It's not—" He paused.
The surface was unnaturally still. No ripples. No drift.
Silas leaned closer. "Why does it look like glass?"
"I don't know," Euryale said quickly. "Just—wash faster."
Then it happened.
A loud CRACK echoed upstream.
A group of older boys had leapt from the rocks, sending a massive splash roaring toward them. The wave surged fast, wild, careless.
Instinct took over.
Euryale stood.
"WAIT—" he said.
The river stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
The wave froze mid-surge, suspended like a sculpted wall of crystal-clear water. Fish hung inside it, blinking in confusion.
Silas stared.
Lyra's jaw dropped.
The boys upstream screamed.
"I DIDN'T MEAN—" Euryale panicked.
The water obeyed that too.
It surged upward.
A towering column rose, spinning gently, shimmering in the sunlight. The riverbed was suddenly visible—stones dry, reeds bent, crabs scrambling like they'd been evicted.
Silas whispered, reverent and terrified,"…that is the coolest thing I've ever seen."
Lyra clapped. "DO IT AGAIN."
"I CAN'T," Euryale squeaked. "I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO IT THE FIRST TIME."
The column wobbled.
"Oh no."
Water exploded outward.
Everyone was soaked.
Laundry flew.
Silas was knocked flat, sputtering. "I TAKE IT BACK! NOT COOL! NOT COOL!"
The wave receded as fast as it had risen, the river rushing back into its bed like nothing had happened.
Silence.
Then—
Silas slowly raised a thumb. "On the bright side… laundry's done?"
Lyra burst out laughing.
Euryale sank to his knees, breathing hard. "I—I didn't want that. I wasn't angry. I was just—"
Scared.
The sea lapped gently at his legs.
Warm.
Comforting.
Like it was apologizing.
______________________________
Ma did not yell.
Which was worse.
She wrapped Euryale in a towel, knelt in front of him, and lifted his chin gently.
"Did it hurt anyone?"
He shook his head, eyes wet. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," she said firmly. "I know you didn't."
Pa crossed his arms, surveying the soaked children and dripping laundry. "So," he said slowly, "you stopped a sea."
Silas beamed. "HE DID A WATER WALL."
Pa pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course he did."
Ma hugged Euryale tightly. "Power doesn't make you dangerous," she whispered. "Fear does. And we'll face this together."
That night, Euryale stood by the shore again.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," he said softly.
The sea answered with a gentle tide, washing over his feet.
________________________________
Far above, in the Celestial Academy, Master Velin felt the ripple reach even there.
And he smiled.
"The tide has moved," he murmured."And the keeper has begun to wake."