I returned to my practice section and spent the remaining hour of open practice working through the fusion exercises systematically. The enhanced perception stayed active and I pushed into the next layer carefully, borrowing a physical sharpening effect from Seraphine’s vampiric conditioning. Minor speed enhancement. The kind of thing that would be invisible in casual movement but would compound into something meaningful over months of consistent work.
Seraphine guided the process with the patience of a genuine teacher, which was something I had not expected from her. She was precise about what I should feel at each stage and clear about when I was pushing further than the stability warranted.
"Here," she said once, placing two fingers against my wrist. "You are forcing the channel instead of holding it. Forcing produces output and then snaps back. Holding produces less immediate output and compounds over time. For the work you are describing as your long term goal, you want the second one."
"How do you tell the difference from the inside?"
"The forced version feels like a breath you are holding. The held version feels like your normal breathing after you have been running for twenty minutes. Elevated but sustainable."
I adjusted.
"Better," she said.
The late afternoon light was turning gold across the training grounds when the session ended and students began moving toward the dining hall. I rolled my shoulders, closed the fusion channel, and stood for a moment letting my body recalibrate to its standard sensory level.
The drop back to normal perception was disorienting for a few seconds. The world went quiet and slightly flat by comparison. I filed that as something to acclimatize to gradually because if I relied on enhanced perception too consistently my standard senses would start feeling inadequate.
I started walking toward the main building.
Evelyne passed me at the junction between the training grounds and the covered walkway that led to the dormitory wings.
Not past me. Toward me, on the same path, walking from the opposite direction. We were going to cross at the junction and there was no natural way to avoid it without one of us visibly redirecting.
She did not redirect.
I did not redirect.
We met at the junction and both stopped because the covered walkway had a slight bottleneck at the entrance and two people could pass but it required one of them to go first or both of them to awkwardly negotiate the space at the same time.
Up close she was more real in the way that things are always more real close up than they are across a dining hall or a training ground. There was a faint mark on her right hand where the griffin’s talons had caught her during a drill, not a wound, just a red line that would fade by morning. Her hair had a few loose strands from the afternoon’s work. Her expression was composed but not cold, the particular neutrality of someone who had not yet decided what register to use with you.
"After you," I said.
She looked at me for a moment. Not suspiciously. Just with the measuring attention that I was starting to recognize as her default when encountering something she was still gathering data on.
"Thank you," she said. Precise and even.
She went first into the walkway. I followed a step behind.
We walked in silence for about ten seconds, which in a narrow walkway is long enough to be a choice on both sides.
"Your griffin handled the lateral pivot drills well this afternoon," I said. "Most first year griffins resist that movement sequence for the first month."
She glanced at me sideways without slowing her pace. "You were watching my drills."
"I was working two sections over with enhanced perception active," I said. "It was not targeted observation. You were in the field of awareness."
She processed that. "Vampiric sense borrowing," she said. "Fusion layer."
"Basic level."
"On the first day," she said. It was not quite a question and not quite a statement. The tone of someone noting something and deciding what category it belongs in.
"The Sovereign Mark accelerates the integration timeline somewhat," I said.
"Mm." She looked forward again. We were almost through the walkway. "The griffin does not resist the pivot because I started the preliminary bonding work six months before the enrollment date. Most students begin bonding after their summon appears. I started with the summoning theory and worked backward to what the bond would need."
She said it matter of factly. Not bragging. Just explaining accurately.
"That is a significant amount of preparation," I said.
"I do not like being unprepared," she said. Simply. Like it was just true and not worth dressing up.
We came out of the walkway into the open courtyard before the main building. The bottleneck was gone and there was space to diverge naturally toward different destinations.
She stopped and turned to look at me properly. Full attention, the measuring quality of it slightly more direct than before.
"Caelum Dravenmoor," she said. "Duke’s son. Ancient Class binding on the first day. Enhanced fusion on the first afternoon." She tilted her head slightly. "What are you preparing for?"
The question landed with a precision that I appreciated and also needed to navigate carefully.
"The same thing everyone is preparing for," I said. "Whatever comes next."
Something moved in her expression. Not quite a smile. More like the edge of one, the shape of it without the full commitment.
"That is a non-answer," she said.
"It is," I agreed pleasantly.
She looked at me for one more moment with those sharp eyes that missed less than she let on that they missed. Then she turned and walked toward the main building entrance.
"Evelyne Aurelion," I called after her. Not loud. Just enough to carry.
She stopped and looked back.
"Your griffin’s name," I said. "In the original summoning lore for high-tier griffins, naming them in the first week strengthens the bond significantly. The emotional resonance of a name given early compounds over time."
She was still for a moment.
"I know," she said.
Then she walked inside.
I stood in the courtyard for a moment.
Seraphine was at my shoulder, where she always was.
"She already knew," Seraphine said.
"She already knew," I confirmed.
"You were testing whether she had done her research."
"I was establishing that I had done mine," I said. "There is a difference."
Seraphine made a sound that might have been a laugh if she had let it be one. "You are very deliberate for someone your age."
"I am an unusual case."
"You are," she agreed. And then, quietly enough that it was more for herself than for me: "She is quite striking."