The last quiet week before the storm began with pancakes. Jasper remembered this later because disaster stories always seemed to forget breakfast. Tidefall served pancakes on Sunday once a month. Harper ate five. Ava said this was excessive. Harper said the academy had provided five, therefore the academy supported the decision. Foundations introduced moving shields. Jasper loved it.

Jasper ate four and stayed out of the argument. The week that followed felt normal enough to be suspicious only in hindsight. Instead of placing a barrier and holding it, students learned to shift the resistance field while maintaining shape. A shield did not need to be huge if it could be where danger arrived. Professor Ward set soft balls rolling around a circular track while students redirected them away from targets. Jasper finished with only two hits. Harper finished with one because she physically ducked under another and argued that this counted. Ava finished with three because she overthought the first pattern and then adapted.

"Acceptable," she said.

Harper nearly fainted.

"You said acceptable about your own imperfect result."

"Please stop."

"I am witnessing history."

Making and Mending taught emergency knots reinforced with simple magic. Ocean Studies reviewed storm harbour procedure. Order orientation continued. The Choosing ceremony was now only six weeks away. Harper's certainty about Brannor had become a running joke.

"What if Velmor?" Mia asked.

"No."

"Calyx?"

"No."

"Nocten?"

"I would walk out."

Ava said, "You cannot refuse."

"Watch me."

Jasper laughed. Nobody knew where Ava would go. Nocten seemed obvious until she spent a Calyx session organising a greenhouse irrigation system and loved it. Brannor seemed possible after she became the best planner in rescue exercises. Velmor liked her mapping skills. Ava hated everyone guessing. Jasper remained equally unclear. One older student said Brannor because of shielding. Another said Velmor because he kept reaching toward the unknown. A Nocten prefect said curiosity mattered more than secrecy. A Calyx teacher said listening was a kind of patience. All four fit. The Tide would decide. Mostly. He wrote home. He played handball.

Jasper stopped caring which one sounded most like him. That thought used to bother him. Now it mostly felt like waiting for a class list. The Titan-presence was quiet all week. Jasper almost forgot about it for entire mornings. He helped Soren repair a book cover. Harper and Mia tried to build a practice obstacle course in the common room and were stopped before furniture died. Ava spent two hours making a revision schedule for exams that did not start for a month. Jasper told her this was unhealthy. She added him to the schedule anyway. On Thursday, Room Fourteen cleaned Bag Bed properly for the first time. Choosing Tide meant first-years would move into permanent Order accommodation after summer. Their temporary rooms would eventually belong to someone else.

Mae said the residence would conduct end-of-year inventory soon. West-stair pebble: keep. Old Order pamphlets: recycle. Brass washer: keep. Paper boat: keep. Bag Bed could not remain a museum. The three sat around it deciding what to keep. Broken handball: Harper wanted keep. Ava said rubbish. Vote: two to one keep. Dried Calyx leaf: Ava keep. Unknown sock: finally thrown away after nobody claimed it for nine months. Harper held a faded blue cloth square.

"First magic."

Jasper recognised it. One-centimetre exercise.

"How did you get that?"

"It was in my bag."

Ava stared.

"You stole school equipment."

"Accidentally collected history."

"Return it."

Harper put it in the return pile. Painfully. Jasper found his mother's first note. ONE WEEK UNTIL YOUR FIRST PROPER LETTER. I AM COUNTING. He kept that. Harper lay across it. By evening Bag Bed could technically become a bed again.

"We fixed it."

Ava said, "You are the current obstruction."

"Temporary."

Jasper looked around Room Fourteen. The thought of leaving it felt strange. This had been home before Orders. No Tide had chosen them here. No magic decided they belonged together. Staff had placed three names on one room list. The rest had happened because they kept choosing to come back to one another. Jasper liked that better than destiny. Friday afternoon, Crowe announced the breakwater repair was nearly finished. The weather flag remained green. The weekend forecast showed cloud, no major storm. At sunset, Jasper stood at the western window while Harper tried to beat Ava at cards. The horizon looked clear. Then the Titan-presence arrived. Not gradually. All at once. The pressure hit so hard Jasper grabbed the window frame. Harper's cards dropped. Ava stood.

"Jasper?"

He could not answer immediately. The presence was not calm. Not warning in the familiar way. Movement. Depth. Pressure building far offshore. A huge current turning toward Tidefall. Jasper saw an impression of the harbour entrance. The repaired gate. The work barge. Ropes. Then something else. A wall of water under darkness. His stomach dropped.

"Storm," he said.

Harper looked out at the clear horizon.

"There isn't one."

Ava said, "Not yet." Not toward the docks. Toward Professor Elowen. Jasper ran for the door. The last quiet week ended there.