Jasper knew it was going to be a bad day before breakfast was finished.

There was no nightmare, no fever and no strange pressure from the sea. He was simply tired, and everything he touched seemed determined to prove it.

He dropped his spoon into his cereal.

At Foundations, the three-effect exercise that had worked perfectly the previous week fell apart almost immediately. Jasper lit the candle, raised the wooden disk and tried to move the strip of cloth at the same time. The candle went out. The disk hit the table. The cloth did not move at all.

Professor Elowen looked at the mess. "Reset."

Jasper reset.

The second attempt was worse.

Harper leaned over and whispered, "It's fine."

"I know," Jasper snapped.

She stopped talking.

That made him feel worse than failing.

By the fourth attempt, frustration had settled hot behind his eyes. He could feel himself pushing too much Essence into each effect because he wanted one clean success, which of course made his control worse.

Elowen stopped him before the disk could fly.

"Hands down."

Jasper obeyed.

"You're tired," she said.

"I'm fine."

"That sentence has never improved a tired spell."

He looked at the table.

"Go drink water. Five minutes."

Making and Mending was no kinder. Jasper pulled too hard on a repair seam and tore the cloth he was supposed to fix.

Professor Ward handed him a fresh square.

"Slow down."

"I am."

"No. You're trying harder. That is not the same thing."

Jasper hated that she was right.

At lunch he lost two handball games, spilled water across Ava's notes and apologised three times while she dried the paper with a careful thread of Essence.

"Stop saying sorry," Ava said.

"I ruined them."

"You made them wet."

"Same thing."

"They are currently dry."

Harper pointed her fork at him. "Bad nothing."

Jasper frowned. "What?"

"You keep saying nothing is wrong, but this is bad nothing."

Ava looked up from the rescued notes. "Accurate."

Jasper put his fork down.

"I don't know what's wrong."

That was the part he disliked most. He wanted to be good at magic. Not the strongest student and not the strange-water student. Just good. He had been improving for months, and one awful morning had somehow made every improvement feel fake.

Ava thought for a moment. "One bad result does not erase the previous ones."

Harper stared at her. "Can you say it like a person?"

Ava ignored her.

Jasper sighed. "I know."

"You know it with your brain," Ava said. "You don't believe it yet."

Harper leaned across the table. "Remember when I heated the water twelve degrees because I couldn't stop?"

"Yeah."

"Now I can stop at five."

"Usually."

"Rude. The point is I was bad and then less bad. Today you are bad. Tomorrow you can be less bad again."

Jasper smiled despite himself.

"Great support."

"Thank you."

Ocean Studies should have been the easy part of the afternoon.

It was not.

Halfway through a current-measuring exercise, the familiar pressure appeared behind Jasper's ribs. It was the first time he had felt the presence since the Deepwater file had given him words like *Titan* and *tairu* to worry about.

Usually, Jasper would have forgotten the worksheet immediately.

Today he was too tired.

Not now, he thought.

The presence remained.

Jasper's annoyance flared.

Can you not?

The pressure vanished.

He froze with his pencil above the page.

Ava noticed first. "What happened?"

"It went away."

Harper leaned closer. "Because?"

Jasper's stomach dropped.

"I thought at it."

"What did you think?"

"Basically... go away."

Ava's eyes widened.

"And then it did."

"Maybe."

The tiredness disappeared beneath a much more dangerous feeling.

Curiosity.

Ask again.

See if it comes back.

Try something else.

The thought arrived so quickly Jasper almost hated himself for it.

Deepwater had begun with small successes. One response, then another, then the belief that response meant control.

Jasper raised his hand.

Elowen came over.

He told her everything, including the part where he wanted to test it.

"Do you still want to?" she asked.

Jasper looked toward the sea-facing windows.

"Yes."

"Are you going to?"

He swallowed. "No."

Elowen nodded once. "Good decision."

Harper looked relieved. Ava looked both relieved and deeply disappointed on behalf of science.

Jasper finished the lesson with terrible measurements.

Nobody died.

At dinner the potatoes were cold, Jasper dropped another fork and his sleeve caught on the table edge. Harper laughed.

This time, Jasper laughed too.

By bedtime he had failed enough things that failure had stopped feeling like an emergency.

He lay beneath the blanket listening to the distant sound of water against the cliffs.

No pressure returned.

Jasper did not call it back.

The day had been awful. It had also given him one of the clearest signs yet that the Water Titan might understand intention.

Both things could be true.

He did not have to solve either before sleeping.

The next morning, Jasper's candle stayed lit.