The Black Stone Tavern was a whirlwind of post-festival chaos, the air heavy with ale, Gromble stew, and laughter that could rattle a Zenoite Krovar's hide. My ribs still throbbed from Bera and Lila's bar-crashing stunt, my backside smarted from Bera's fiery arrow, but that kiss—by Aurelion, it burned hotter than a Lava Dragon's breath. I swaggered in, wooden sword at my hip, plotting a prank to solidify my title as the Supreme Elf. The crowd chanted my name, and I drank it in like a Shadow Panther soaks up darkness.
Bera was behind the bar, her apron straining against curves that could spark a riot in Solspire. Her Fire Qi flickered as she caught my eye, a smirk promising trouble. Lila weaved through tables, her thighs slicing the air like Zenoite blades, her Earth Qi humming with a scowl that screamed she hadn't forgiven me for fanning their feud. Janko sulked in a corner, his face faintly whiskered from my Itchy-Cat prank, muttering curses as kids taunted, "Cursed Cat!" I'd unleashed my latest masterpiece—a "Demonic Rhino" prank—by smearing his chair with Moonflower sap to glue him, Gromble oil to make him slip, and a moozze tail dyed neon with Firepetal powder. When he sat, the sap stuck, the oil sent him skidding, and the tail dangled like a glowing trophy, sparking roars of "Rhino Whiskers!" The name echoed my three-day smallclothes strut after the festival, when folks dubbed me a Demonic Rhino for my brazen strength.
I slid up to Bera, leaning close, my voice a teasing purr. "Fire queen, that kiss still sizzling, or was it just a spark?" Her cheeks flushed, but she tossed her hair, Fire Qi tingling. "Killyaen, you're denser than a Gromble if you think I'm swooning. Lust, maybe. Don't get ideas." I grinned, my eyes drifting to her chest, a masterpiece begging for worship. "Lust, love, whatever—I'm ready for round two." She swatted me with a rag, smirking. "Back to pranks and insults, pervert. You owe me a dress, and I'm collecting." I laughed, loving her fire. "Deal, but only if you make me do it!"
Her eyes gleamed, and she vaulted the counter, tackling me to the floor. Her curves pressed against me, soft and fierce, and I rolled, pinning her for a heartbeat, hands on her hips. My body betrayed me—my supreme sword stirred, hardening like Zenoite under her weight, and as she flipped me, straddling my chest, she froze, feeling it through my trousers. Her eyes widened, a wicked grin spreading. "Well, Supreme Elf, is that your sword saluting me?" she teased, loud enough for the tavern to explode in hoots. I smirked, unashamed. "Can't help it, fire queen—you're too hot to handle." The crowd roared, chanting "Demonic Rhino!" as Bera laughed, her Fire Qi sparking.
Lila, tray in hand, shot a glare that could crack stone. Her Earth Qi sent a tremor through the floor, her face crimson with jealousy. "Pathetic," she hissed, slamming her tray down and storming out, the door banging behind her. I winked at her retreating back, knowing she'd stew, and Bera leaned close, whispering, "You're trouble, Killy." She sprang up, dusting her apron, victorious. "New dress, or I'll singe your smallclothes." I scrambled up, bowing. "Your wish, my queen." Our truce was sealed, but her curves and that moment lingered, my pervert's grin unstoppable.
Outside, Lila stomped through Opeka's rocky paths, her Earth Qi simmering. Why did that Supreme Idiot get under her skin? His chaotic grin, his shameless pranks, that damn swagger—something about Killyaen pulled at her, and she hated it. Was it his defiance, his charm, or just her pride stung by Bera's triumph? She clenched her fists, vowing to train harder, to master her Earth Qi until she outshone Bera, that curvaceous fire-witch. Tonight, she'd start, forging herself into a force stronger than her rival—and maybe, just maybe, enough to bury whatever this feeling was for that infuriating elf.
Back in the tavern, Janko's scowl deepened as a kid yanked the glowing moozze tail, sparking more "Rhino Whiskers!" chants. He swiped, slipping in the oil and crashing into a table, ale soaking him. I cackled, tossing a "Nice slide, Cursed Cat!" but his muttered "You'll burn, wretch" sent a chill. The tavern buzzed with tales of my Demonic Rhino prank and smallclothes strut, folks calling me a legend. A merchant, reeking of Crestmoore coin, rambled about "ruins of old gods" near Solspire, and my amulet pulsed, nagging like Mima's gossip. I shoved it down—ruins could wait; Bera's hips were my quest.
Marko lumbered in, his blacksmith's arms like Ironvale boulders, and slapped two Zenoite swords on the counter. "For you, Killy," he grunted, grinning. "Goran's orders—dual blades to match your chaos." The swords gleamed, sharp as Lila's glare, and I whooped, twirling them. The curse's 30-kilogram weight dragged my swings, but my strength, forged by strain, made them sing. "Supreme Sword Sleeps Here," I quipped, patting my groin, and Marko roared, promising a guard for it.
Goran's training that afternoon was brutal. Under Opeka's sparse oaks, I blended Wind's Rebuke with Thunder's Edge, the Zenoite swords splitting a log clean. The curse slowed me, draining stamina, but my arms burned with power, and Goran's Fire Qi flared. "Beast, kid," he said, his sword nicked. "Keep those blades sharp for Solspire." His Solspire talk, tied to the merchant's ruins, made my amulet pulse again.
Destiny was a nag, but I wasn't chasing it yet.Back at the tavern, I pored over Legends of the Middle Sea, its pages whispering of Solspire's "ruins of old gods" and Azurion's waves. My amulet pulsed stronger, and for a second, I wondered if my qi-blindness could end there.
Bera leaned over, her chest brushing my shoulder, and my grin returned. "Reading, Killy? Or dreaming of my curves?" she teased, Fire Qi sparking. "Both, fire queen, but you're the better story," I shot back.
Janko slunk out, his whiskers glowing, and I tossed a "Sweet dreams, Rhino Whiskers!" after him. The tavern roared, but his glare promised revenge. My swords gleamed, my truce with Bera burned, and Lila's absence fueled my chaos. Solspire could wait—the Supreme Elf's stage was Opeka.