CHAPTER 30: The Thirtieth Fracture

Alric sat alone on a smooth rock by the lake near the academy, the water’s surface still and mirror-like under the pale afternoon sun.

The quiet was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him.

He traced ripples in the water with a restless finger, watching as they spread outward—distorting the reflection of the sky, the trees, even himself.

Since the fight with Sukara, nothing felt the same.

The memory of their duel was etched in his mind like a scar he couldn’t touch.

He remembered the moment his most powerful spell shattered against Sukara’s will—not just raw strength, but a force of conviction unlike any he’d ever faced.

He hadn’t hated Sukara in that moment.

No, something darker stirred beneath the surface.

Envy.

“Science,” Alric whispered, voice low enough to be lost in the breeze. “It’s more than just formulas and experiments. He’s reshaping the world itself.”

He sighed, eyes fixed on his reflection—the calm water hiding the storm beneath.

Once, he’d been the academy’s shining star. The elemental prodigy everyone expected to lead them. Now… he wasn’t even in the top four.

Sukara had done more than beat him.

He’d made him question everything.

The crunch of footsteps on gravel pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced up to see Sukara approaching, his expression unreadable.

Alric didn’t move.

Sukara settled a few feet away, the space between them heavy with unspoken words.

After a moment, Sukara spoke quietly.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Alric stared out over the lake.

“I’ve been thinking about that fight,” he admitted. “About how everything changed in a few moments.”

Sukara nodded slowly.

“Yeah. It changed things—for both of us.”

Alric’s gaze finally shifted to Sukara.

“You’re different now. And not just in power.”

Sukara let out a breath.

“I know. It feels like… I’m not the person I used to be.”

Alric’s eyes narrowed, studying him.

“You’re not the only one.”

They sat in silence, the gentle lapping of water filling the space.

After a while, Alric broke the quiet.

“You ever feel like science has been a curse for you?” he asked suddenly, voice tinged with bitterness.

Sukara blinked, caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

Alric glanced at him, eyes sharp.

“All my life, I’ve chased understanding—formulas, spells, laws. But the more I learn, the more I feel trapped. Like every answer just leads to another question, and none of it ever feels real.”

Sukara frowned, absorbing the words.

“Is that why you fight so hard to prove magic’s superiority?”

Alric’s laugh was hollow.

“Not superiority. Survival. Because science—your science—is something I’ve never been able to grasp. You bend reality with it, rewrite what should be unbreakable. It’s… terrifying.”

Sukara shifted, voice softer.

“I never thought of it that way. To me, it’s just… how things work.”

“But that’s the problem,” Alric said, leaning forward. “It’s not how things work for me. You’re breaking rules that I’ve been taught were eternal. And it makes me question everything I believed about this world.”

Sukara met his gaze, sincerity in his eyes.

“I’m still figuring it out too. Every day feels like walking on a knife’s edge.”

Alric nodded slowly.

“I envy that you can see it that way.”

There was a pause.

“Do you ever worry,” Alric asked cautiously, “that this power you have… will consume you? That you’re fighting something you don’t fully understand?”

Sukara swallowed hard.

“Every day.”

They both stared out over the lake, the weight of their unspoken fears heavy between them.

Finally, Sukara broke the silence.

“I don’t know where this road leads. But I know I can’t go back to who I was.”

Alric’s expression softened, conflicted.

“Maybe that’s the hardest part for me… accepting that some things have changed forever.”

Sukara looked at him thoughtfully.

“We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Alric gave a small, bitter smile.

“No. But if we’re on this path—whether together or apart—we’ll need to watch each other.”

Sukara nodded.

“Yeah. Watch and learn.”

They sat together in silence, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the lake.

Two rivals bound by change, uncertainty, and a fragile thread of understanding.

The next morning came in stark contrast to the quiet by the lake.

Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the academy’s bustling cafeteria, filled with laughter, chatter, and the clatter of trays and cutlery.

Saaya and I sat quietly in a corner, sharing a meal.

Then the doors swung open.

He stepped inside—Alric—his expression weighed down by the conversation from the day before.

His eyes scanned the room until they found me and Saaya. I watched as he took a deep breath, then made his way over to our table.

He stopped just short of it. For a second, I wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything at all.

His hands were at his sides, fingers slightly curled—tense, but not hostile. Just… uncertain.

Saaya tilted her head, studying him like she was seeing something new.

“Hey Alric,” she said gently. “Would you like to join us?”

He blinked. That seemed to catch him off guard more than anything I’d ever thrown at him in a fight.

“I… yeah.” He cleared his throat. “If that’s okay.”

I nodded and nudged the empty seat beside me.

“It’s fine. Sit.”

He hesitated, then slid into the chair, his tray still in his hands like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The buzz of the cafeteria carried on around us, but at our table, the air felt thinner.

Then, almost awkwardly, Alric set his tray down.

“I don’t usually do this,” he muttered.

“Eat?” Saaya teased, offering a small smile.

Alric huffed a breath, almost a laugh.

“Sit with people I lost to.”

“I didn’t know we were keeping score,” I said.

“You always were the unpredictable one.” He looked at me—not with bitterness, but a kind of tired honesty. “I still don’t understand how you did it. I don’t even know if I want to understand.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to understand it yet.”

He nodded slowly, picking at the edge of his food but not eating.

“You know, yesterday helped,” he said after a pause. “Not because it answered anything. But because I realized I’m not the only one confused.”

“You’re not,” Saaya said softly. “None of us are.”

For the first time, Alric looked at her—not like she was just an ally of mine, but like someone who understood the fracture in the world too.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting to the window.

“You really think this academy is ready for what’s coming?”

“No,” I said plainly. “But we’re going to face it anyway.”

He smirked.

“Then I guess I’m in the right place.”

The tension didn’t vanish. Not entirely. But it changed shape—less like a wall and more like a bridge.

And somehow, that felt like a bigger victory than anything I’d earned in a fight.