Early the next morning during his meditation, Shawn heard familiar footsteps drawing closer. Ness had arrived. A slight sense of relief washed over him; Kish was a bothersome presence, so any change in company was welcome. Still, he kept his guard up. Amid her polite gestures and warm tone, Shawn never forgot his exact reality: he was a captive in Morgan Vonte's house, and everything inside it belonged to the enemy. Getting attached to Morgan's daughter was a liability he could not afford.
Two soft knocks rattled the wood.
Shawn stood up and stretched. His muscles protested immediately, which was impressive considering he had spent the morning doing absolutely nothing. He opened the door to find Ness waiting on the threshold.
"I hope you had a peaceful night," she said.
Shawn gave a tight nod as he pulled the door closed behind him. A peaceful night in this house is impossible, he thought, though he kept the reflection to himself.
"The tutor is already waiting in the library," Ness continued, tilting her head. "But I am sure you do not want to go straight there right now. We can walk around the manor grounds first."
"Sure," Shawn replied.
They moved down the corridor at a slow, unhurried pace. Ness walked slightly ahead of him. She didn't offer a hand or tug at his sleeve; she simply guided him through the sheer presence of her footsteps. Shawn followed carefully at first, but as they advanced, he completely stopped relying on her voice to track the environment. He listened to the house instead.
Eventually, the narrow corridor opened up entirely into a wide courtyard. Shawn slowed his stride as the air changed instantly, turning lighter and crisp against his skin. He tilted his head toward a specific vibration in the distance.
"We are at the fountain," Ness murmured, confirming what he already knew.
Shawn didn't respond. The fountain had left an unforgettable memory. A place where Morgan's ego was watered.
Then, a hostile voice sliced through the sound of the water.
"Still dragging the stray around?"
Shawn stopped walking immediately, recognizing Kish's arrogant rhythm before the boy even finished speaking. Ness didn't answer right away, which only encouraged her brother to continue.
"You really enjoy playing caretaker to a broken asset, don't you?" Kish scoffed, his boots clicking sharply against the ground.
Shawn let out a quiet breath. He stayed silent, but his ears tracked Kish's movements intently. He could feel the sudden shift in atmospheric pressure as the second son closed the distance between them, circling Shawn like a predator evaluating weak prey. Kish stopped right in front of him.
"Disappointing," Kish muttered, his voice dripping with disgust. "This is the garbage Father is wasting his personal time on?"
Shawn tilted his head slightly toward the insults. "I can speak for myself."
Kish let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Can you, now?"
A heavy silence settled over the courtyard. The sudden absence of movement made Shawn instantly uneasy. He shifted his weight, preparing for a sudden strike, but the ground beneath his feet unexpectedly changed texture. The stone felt unnaturally smooth and slick.
"Kish, stop!" Ness shouted, her voice suddenly sharp with panic.
But the warning came too late. Shawn stepped forward to adjust his stance, and his foot instantly lost all traction. Kish had altered the ground, overlaying the courtyard stone with a thin, frictionless sheet of solid ice. Shawn's balance shattered. His arms flailed into the empty air, and he fell forward.
A massive splash echoed through the courtyard as cold water slammed into his chest, swallowing him whole. The freezing shock of the fountain water soaked through his clothes within seconds.
Shawn sat completely still in the basin for a moment, letting his breathing stabilize. Water dripped heavily from his hair and chin. He didn't yell or show anger; instead, he simply rested his palms on the submerged stone rim and exhaled.
"So this is how the noble Vonte family entertains itself," Shawn said, his voice entirely flat and calm.
Kish didn't offer a sarcastic retort. Shawn heard the boy's weight shift as Ness stepped aggressively between them. "I didn't think you would actually do something that pathetic, Kish," she said fiercely.
Shawn ignored their bickering, placing his hand on the wet edge of the fountain to pull himself out of the water. As his fingers gripped the masonry, a subtle sensation caught his attention. There was a faint, localized movement in the water right beneath his palm—a microscopic pulse that had nothing to do with the fountain's current. It felt real, but the moment he tried to focus on it, the sensation vanished. He locked the memory of that strange fluid pressure deep into his mind for later analysis.
Ness stepped closer to him, her footsteps hurried. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," Shawn replied, squeezing the excess water from his sleeves.
Ness hesitated for a brief second, then raised her hands toward his soaked jacket. Shawn felt a sudden, localized shift in the air temperature around his chest. A strange, localized warmth bloomed against the fabric, and he could hear the faint, hissing sound of moisture being violently pulled away from the threads. The spell wasn't powerful enough to dry him completely, but the heavy weight of the water lifted significantly.
Shawn turned his face toward her. "You did that?"
Ness nodded, her breath a bit shallow from the exertion. "It is easier to manipulate when it is only small amounts of surface moisture."
Shawn said nothing, but his engineering brain instantly logged the mechanical properties of her ability. Magic in this world had a direct relationship with volume and mass.
Kish clicked his tongue in pure annoyance. "Tch. What a total waste of my time," he muttered, turning on his heel. His aggressive footsteps marched away across the courtyard until the sound disappeared into the main estate.
Ness watched her brother leave before turning back to Shawn. "Let's get out of here," she said quietly.
Shawn gave a single nod, and they resumed their walk. The heavy rushing sound of the courtyard fountain slowly faded behind them, replaced once again by the enclosed, predictable echoes of the stone corridors.
A few minutes later, a heavy scent entered the air: old paper, ink, dust, and decaying leather bindings. Shawn recognized the olfactory signature immediately.
"The library," he said.
"Yes," Ness replied, stopping before the grand entryway.
The heavy double doors creaked open, and they stepped into the vast room. The ambient atmosphere shifted instantly, turning still, quiet, and intensely controlled.
As Shawn moved past the threshold, he heard the distinct scrape of a wooden chair sliding across the floorboards. The movement was slow, deliberate, and entirely devoid of warmth.
The tutor's measured voice cut through the silence. "You are late."
Shawn kept his mouth shut, refusing to offer an excuse that the man wouldn't care about anyway.
"You will be doubling your text-tracing work today to make up for the lost hour," the tutor continued coldly, pushing a heavy, patterned slate across the desk. "There will be no breaks until the assignments are finalized."
Shawn let out a quiet, controlled sigh as he reached out blindly for the edge of the table. "Of course."