Morning light broke through the towering spires of Herene Palace, casting golden rays upon white marble halls. The royal capital slowly stirred to life, but within her chambers, Liora had already risen.
The routine was ingrained now.
She crossed her silk-draped room barefoot and made her way to the bathing quarters. The warm water relaxed all her muscles as she stepped in. Scented with crushed jasmine and mint, it soothed her tense limbs. She leaned back, closing her eyes briefly, feeling her hair float behind her like golden threads in the water.
After her shower, she wrapped herself in a robe of sea-silk and moved to her wardrobe. Robes of every shade and weave hung neatly. Today, she chose a fitted tunic of dark sapphire, trimmed in silver embroidery, with leggings of light azure. Subtle, noble, and perfect for movement.
She brushed her teeth while gazing at her reflection. Her features were sharp yet graceful. The crownless princess, they called her. One that bore no tiara but walked like royalty. (I wanted to give her a nickname and it's fucking awesome.)
Downstairs, the kitchens had already prepared her morning meal. A plate of crisped crescent bread, sun-egg yolk, and chilled raspberry juice awaited her. She ate quickly, sipping the juice as she reviewed a book about mana theory beside her.
Just as she finished, her father entered.
"How's my girl doing?"
"Hey, Dad... You're late today, and I'm fine."
"The council was up late discussing border scouts," he said with a sigh, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You have practice in thirty. One of your tutors is waiting."
"Alright. Thank you," she replied. "Aren't you gonna sit down? It's sad to eat alone."
"I already ate, darling." He gave her a faint smile before striding down the corridor.
Liora sighed and rose from her seat, walking back to her room. Once there, she stepped out onto her balcony.
The kingdom stretched before her.
Market streets. Sprawling trees. Armored patrols. Distant rivers gleaming like silver snakes. The wind tugged gently at her hair, the sky above crystal-clear.
Four days.
It had been four days since Lif left for Kathelyn.
She hadn't heard from him, hadn't sensed anything.
Was he there yet? Did he meet up with Rael, Sela, and Nadia? Were they safe? She sighed, folding her arms over the railing.
"He's probably making some dumb joke as he gets punched in the face," she muttered to herself with a faint smirk. But that smirk didn't stay.
Not long after, she stepped down into the training yard. Waiting for her there was her current master—one of many who had come to teach her. And like the others, he likely wouldn't last more than a week.
The man bowed stiffly. "Princess."
"Master Evir."
He said nothing more before raising his hands. A ripple of water coiled around him before freezing into jagged shards.
Without ceremony, he hurled them at her.
Liora didn't move.
She flicked her wrist, conjuring a whip of water from the nearby fountain. It cracked once—snap—and shattered every shard before they got close.
The tutor narrowed his eyes.
"You are chosen by both the Constellation of Ice and Water," she said, tilting her head. "Yet you insist on using them separately. You send water, then freeze it. Why not just use ice from the start? It's less theatrical."
Evir's brow twitched. "You shouldn't mock your masters, Princess."
Then—vanish.
He blinked behind her with a shimmer of mana, palm raised, ice swirling like a dagger.
But Liora was already moving. Without looking, she shifted left. The ice burst against empty air. She swept low, coiled water around her leg, and spun—her kick sent the watery whip hurling upward.
Evir leapt back, sliding across the stones, shards forming around him like armor.
What followed was a flurry of motion:
Evir formed ice disks and launched them like razors.
Liora dodged each with liquid grace, her body bending and flowing like the very element she wielded.
He raised pillars of frozen spikes.
She twisted water into a spiral and skated across its surface, launching herself above them.
He tried to trap her with a dome of frost.
She broke it instantly.
Each move he made, she countered effortlessly—elegant and unbothered. He was sweating. She hadn't even broken a breath.
Finally, she sent a whip spiraling around his ankle and yanked. He fell flat.
She landed gently, stepping over him.
"You rely on power. I rely on movement," she said, then offered him a hand. He took it hesitantly.
She looked up at the sky.
Dark clouds began rolling in. Winds picked up, cold and smelling of salt.
Evir squinted. "Storm's coming. A strong one."
She nodded. "It's pretty obvious."
He bowed again. "Your power… it grows daily."
She offered a faint smile. "Thank you for your time."
Then turned and walked into the palace.
---
Hours later...
On the far edge of Aetherwyn, where cliffs dropped into the endless stretch of the Elven Ocean, the world was a chaos of storm.
Waves churned like dragons, crashing into rock. Thunder boomed so hard the mountains shook. Winds screamed across the land.
And yet—he stood still.
A man.
His cloak was black, heavy, yet it billowed behind him like silk. His posture was calm, arms folded, boots steady against the stone.
His black hair did not move. Not even the wind dared disturb it.
His eyes were closed. But the moment lightning cracked the sky, he opened them.
Cold. Sharp. Focused.
He raised his hand slowly.
Wrapped around his forearm was a small creature—a serpent, no longer than his palm. Its scales shimmered faintly translucent green, and on its back were wings made of thin, glassy membranes.
"Storm Eater," he whispered.
The snake slithered up his arm. Then it took flight.
Higher.
And higher.
And higher.
As it rose, its body stretched, growing, warping. From the size of a ribbon to the size of a dragon—ten meters long, dark green, and glowing with mana. The wings beat once—sending a pulse through the clouds.
It pierced the storm, weaving through thunderclouds, and as it did, the lightning ceased.
The winds died.
The storm was absorbed—drawn into the serpent's body like smoke into a flask.
And just like that… the skies turned blue.
The sea calmed.
The clouds vanished.
The serpent spiraled back down, shrinking mid-air until it was once again no longer than a hand. It wrapped around the man's arm gently.
He looked down at it and smiled.
"That was a big one," he said quietly. "That must've given us quite the mana… isn't that right, Gryfid?"
The snake hissed, curling tighter.
The man turned toward the continent—
And vanished in a gust of wind.