Nephis sat beneath a sky too pale
the grass beneath her soft, warm with sun.
Her hand moved slowly,
gliding across the scaled head resting in her lap.
The Serpent—
coiled and silent—
lay draped across her like an old promise,
curled into the folds of her robes,
its body rising and falling in rhythm with her stillness.
It made no sound beyond the occasional hiss,
a soft exhale of awareness.
Not warning—
just presence.
Its tail looped loosely around her waist,
its head nestled gently upon her thigh.
She sat cross-legged, grounded,
beneath the quiet breath of wind,
outside the alabaster walls of the Ivory Tower.
Sunny was gone for now,
drifting through the waking world with Kai.
They had taken Rain home—
The Serpent shifted.
Its sleek form rippled against her frame,
twisting once—twice—around her torso,
then settled once more.
Its head rose slightly,
pressing against her ribs like a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
It didn't need words.
Its language was older.
A child with no voice,
asking only to remain close.
Then—
A voice cut through the stillness.
Bright. Familiar.
Wicked at the edges,
like sunlight through a mischievous grin.
"Hey, Princess…"
Effie.
Of course.
Nephis turned, eyes calm,
meeting the spark that was Effie's presence.
Her smile carried that usual note of glee—
a melody always on the verge of laughter.
"Sunny's back,"
Nephis murmured.
More to herself than to Effie.
One did not need to be told.
A Sovereign's presence rippled through the world.
Even when he walked quietly,
his existence filled the spaces he passed.
Not unless he actively hid it.
And he wouldn't.
Not from them.
Effie grinned, all teeth and trouble.
"Come on," she said, tilting her head.
"We've got a little something planned. For you two."
A surprise, no doubt.
There was always something sinister simmering behind Effie's eyes.
Nephis exhaled softly.
A sound not quite a sigh.
Not tired—just still.
She glanced down at the Serpent.
Its eyes, half-lidded, met hers.
With two fingers, she tapped its head.
A gentle signal.
Not a command.
The Serpent moved,
obedient not from obligation—
but from trust.
It slithered up her form,
coiling once more around her torso with a fluid, practiced grace.
Then it came to rest over her shoulder,
its head nestled against the curve of her neck.
Like a child that refused to be left behind.
Like something sacred,
small,
and stubborn.
Nephis rose to her feet.
No fanfare.
No ceremony.
Just the measured calm of someone who had walked through fire,
and still chose softness.
She nodded once to Effie.
Then turned toward the Tower—
not rushing.
Just moving forward.
With shadow at her back,
and warmth against her throat.
———
Sunny stood still,
eyes sweeping the counter laid out before him.
Bowls of spices—sharp, earthy, sweet.
Strange meats, marbled and red with potential.
Fruits split open like offerings.
Vegetables washed, trimmed, gleaming beneath the soft light.
A quiet battlefield,
one of heat and smoke and memory.
His gaze lingered.
Not on any one thing,
but on the arrangement itself—
the chaos before creation.
To his side, Kai.
Smiling.
A step closer to mischief than usual.
Always letting on more than he knew.
Sunny didn't speak.
Didn't need to.
The weight of his stare was question enough.
Kai tilted his head, half a nod,
as if preparing a reply—
But then—
Footsteps.
Soft, precise,
like someone who never truly left battle behind.
Nephis entered the room,
light trailing behind her like loyalty.
The Serpent was with her,
coiled gently around her shoulders,
its head resting just beside her collar—
watchful, content.
She paused at the threshold,
golden eyes flicking from face to face,
before falling on Sunny.
He stood before the ingredients like a soldier before war,
still and unreadable.
Beside him, Kai,
relaxed, casual—
yet oddly ceremonial in stance.
At the wooden table behind them,
Jet sat cross-legged with her boots kicked up.
Cassie beside her, hands folded,
head tilted as if already predicting the outcome.
Nephis spoke, voice mild.
"…What's all this?"
No edge to it.
No command.
Just honest curiosity,
quiet as falling ash.
Before she could take another step,
Effie squeezed past her—
brimming with joy far too large for the doorway she pushed through.
She grinned, clapping her hands once.
"This…" she declared,
with the flare of a storyteller nearing her punchline,
"is the stage for a competition!"
Sunny blinked.
Not out of surprise,
but in the way one blinks at a shift in the wind—
a change felt, not questioned.
His gaze passed from Kai,
to Nephis,
and finally, to Effie.
A long silence stretched—
long enough to feel deliberate.
Then—
Kai coughed lightly,
half-clearing his throat, half-breaking the moment.
"What she's trying to say…" he said,
voice a shade more sheepish than usual,
"is that we arranged a little something."
He gestured toward the table.
"A cooking competition. Between you and Nephis."
A beat passed.
The Serpent shifted—
tilting its head ever so slightly,
as though considering the idea.
It uncoiled just a little,
resting a coil over Nephis's shoulder like a sash of ink and instinct.
Its gaze met Sunny's.
He didn't move.
But his eyes softened—
just a flicker,
just enough to notice if you'd known him long.
Perhaps the Serpent was amused.
Or intrigued.
Or simply waiting for something it didn't yet understand.
Nephis, still poised by the door, let out a breath—
one that almost resembled a sigh.
She stepped further in, her eyes narrowing slightly,
not in irritation,
but calculation.
Jet leaned forward, already interested.
Cassie said nothing,
but her lips were faintly curved.
This wasn't a battle.
Not really.
But in its own way—
it was.
Not of blades or death.
Just taste.
Just touch.
Just memory.
Sunny looked down at the table again.
At the strange ingredients.
At the potential.
And somewhere,
quiet and unspoken,
the game began.
…
Sunny stood poised like a conductor before a symphony.
Six shadow-forged arms moved around him in a silent whirlwind—
each one an extension of will,
of focus honed by eons of solitude and need.
In one hand—
he held the T-Bone, thick and marbled, the cut pristine.
In another—
a mortar filled with coarse salt, crushed peppercorns, dried rosemary, a hint of smoked paprika.
Another hand fanned a slow, ember-like flame beneath a cast-iron pan—
not too hot, never too fast.
The others were busy—
peeling garlic with deft flicks, brushing oil across the steak's surface,
slicing onions thin enough to vanish in the pan.
He was not merely cooking.
He was forging something exotic.
The steak was seasoned by touch, not measure—
a balance of instinct and perfectionism.
He placed it on the pan—
a sear sharp as a war drum echoing into the room.
Golden crust bloomed across the surface.
He flipped only once.
Never again.
The juices had to remain captive within.
One hand basted with rosemary-infused butter,
another dropped slivers of garlic and thyme into the fat,
scooping and ladling with elegant aggression.
The meat hissed—
not in protest, but in surrender.
Beside him, Nephis moved with equal grace—
though hers was different.
Measured. Deliberate.
Her radiant white flame was no longer a weapon.
Now, it was a stove's heart—gentle, calm, alive.
She laid out sheets of seaweed with care,
spread warm rice across them, fingers slightly wet,
just as tradition demanded.
Each roll of kimbap was a story.
Thin slices of egg—cooked in delicate folds.
Carrots, pickled radish, tender beef she'd seared with a controlled flame.
Spinach wilted in sesame oil, dusted with salt.
All laid in perfect rows,
rolled tight, but not too tight—
preserving the texture, the breath between ingredients.
With each pass of her blade,
the rolls became a portrait—clean, symmetrical, full of warmth.
Serpent sat between them at the center of the table.
Unmoving.
Coiled like a crown of black silk.
It did not understand the war being waged.
But it felt the heat—
not the flame,
but the warmth.
The kind of warmth that echoed across lives and meals and hands once held.
A warmth it had never known,
except in the still, quiet shadow of its master.
Now—
It watched that master cook not out of hunger,
but creation.
Sunny flipped the steak one last time—
a final kiss of fire.
Then rested it on a plate, covering it with foil.
Letting it breathe.
Letting it weep joy beneath the surface.
He plated with reverence.
A smear of parsnip puree across a dark ceramic dish.
A bed of sauteed wild mushrooms—earthy and soft.
On top, the steak, sliced once across its middle.
Pink as memory.
Juicy as truth.
Finished with a dark reduction made from red wine, bone stock, and silence.
Nephis set her plate beside his.
Kimbap, arranged in a spiral, like a blooming galaxy.
Each piece glistening with sesame oil,
a gentle flick of toasted seeds across the top.
At the table—
Jet leaned forward, brow raised.
Cassie tilted her head, her lips parted slightly in fascination.
Kai let out a low, theatrical whistle.
Effie just grinned, hands tucked under her chin like a child waiting for cake.
And in the center of it all,
Serpent blinked slowly—
its head turning from dish to dish,
from master to radiant-star.
It didn't know who would win.
It didn't care.
In that moment, it felt something it couldn't name.
A memory it never had.
A family.
A home.
And the warmth of two creators,
who had once walked through fire and shadow—
Now sharing a meal.
…
At the table sat five judges.
Four human.
One shadow.
Plates were served in silence. Equal portions. Equal promise.
Each plate flanked by a mint margarita, cold enough to fog the glass.
Before them,
Two warriors stood—not of sword and flame—
but of pan and pot.
Nephis. Sunny.
Opposing forces in harmony.
The judges lifted their utensils, save for one.
The Serpent moved first.
Of course it did.
It slithered forward with slow, deliberate grace.
A dignified beast, ancient and unreadable, coiling up toward its plate.
First—
a bite of steak.
Then the kimbap.
Then back again.
Steak.
Kimbap.
Steak.
Again.
A quiet war of contrast played out in its mouthless mimicry.
The others watched, barely breathing.
Then—
its plate empty, it flicked its gaze to Effie's food.
A hunger shimmered in its eyes.
But no—
not yet.
Not here.
Not now.
The Serpent turned from the table.
Its eyes locked first on Sunny—its master.
Then on Nephis.
Then back to Sunny.
A beat passed.
And then,
with quiet loyalty,
it slithered toward the shadow it called home, curling at Sunny's feet.
It could not taste.
A tragedy.
It could not judge.
But it could choose.
And it chose him.
Sunny said nothing.
But his expression… shifted.
Barely.
Effie was next.
She inhaled her plate in a blink.
Gone.
Kai froze mid-bite.
"Effie!" he exclaimed. "You didn't even taste it! How will you vote!"
She blinked. "Oops." Then, "I vote both of them!"
A sigh followed from every direction.
Kai, trying to recover from secondhand embarrassment, took his time.
He cleaned his palate with the minty drink, then spoke.
"Amazing stuff. Seriously. Both of you."
He paused.
"But… that steak? Sunny's got my vote."
Cassie finished delicately, then set her fork down.
"I don't like steak," she said simply. "Nephis."
All eyes turned to Jet.
She didn't rush.
A piece of steak.
A piece of kimbap.
She leaned back in her chair, letting the flavors settle.
"Honestly…" she sighed, "formality's exhausting. I vote Nephis."
And just like that—
A tie.
The tension broke, but only slightly.
Two plates remained.
Two warriors now had to taste their own craft.
Sunny manifested a shadow-formed fork and knife.
Nephis lifted a perfect spiral of kimbap between elegant fingers.
They raised the food—
And then—
The Serpent moved.
With startling speed, it coiled around Sunny's forearm,
a flash of darkness and purpose.
Everyone froze.
Not in fear—
but anticipation.
The coiled beast guided Sunny's hand—slowly, deliberately—toward Nephis.
The steak-laden fork, now a vessel of intent, paused inches from her lips.
Nephis stared at it.
Then at him.
Then back to the fork.
She said nothing.
Sunny said nothing.
But something passed between them—
a breath,
a beat,
a whisper beneath the silence.
Then,
Nephis leaned forward,
and took the bite.
Everyone watched.
No one moved.
At the center of it all—
The Serpent, still wrapped around Sunny's arm like a sash of shadowed pride.
It could not smile.
But if it could,
it would've.
Effie broke the silence.
"Finally!" she declared. "Something fun."
Jet rolled her eyes.
Cassie quietly smiled.
Sunny stared at the plate.
Then at Nephis.
Still silent.
The Serpent curled tighter,
content in the quiet.
Not understanding what had happened.
Only knowing one thing:
This…
felt like family.