Kida sat beside Milo, laughing softly at something he said, her silver hair glinting like sun-touched snow. Across from them, Skuld twirled her fork lazily, casting glances between Kurai and Helios, who seemed unusually relaxed for once. Plates of delicately prepared Atlantean food—fruit, fish, glowing root vegetables—sat untouched for the most part, though Cookie's cooking from the surface had clearly made a surprising cultural impact, given the number of biscuits and seasoned meat skewers on the table.
Helios leaned back in his chair, swirling a goblet of crystal-blue liquid. "Kida," he said with a slight grin, "you've been getting the hang of Water spells far faster than I anticipated."
Kida looked up with a bright smile. "I've been practicing what you showed me yesterday. It's like… the energy responds differently after that incident. Whatever happened to me when I fused with the heart and turned to crystal seems to have amplified my talent. That and there seems to be more magic in the city as of late."
Milo nodded. "I've noticed that too. There's a resonance between the natural energy of the city and your magic. I'm still trying to find the scientific explanation."
"You'll get there, Einstein," Helios teased lightly, then turned back to Kida. "Today, let's try something new. Blizzard."
Kida blinked. "Isn't fire the next element?"
"Again too risky indoors," Skuld cut in before he could answer. "You'd melt the ceiling beams or torch the food."
Helios smirked. "Exactly. Blizzard is the safest of the remaining base spells.
Controlled, elegant, and low risk if we keep it small."
"I'm ready," Kida said without hesitation.
Helios gestured and conjured a delicate, deep blue snowflake above his palm, hovering it over the table. The temperature dropped ever so slightly as tiny trails of frost curled along the surface of his drink. He then controlled the snowflake until it flew over and merged into Kida's body. This was the essence of the Blizzard spell.
"Blizzard isn't just about cold," he explained.
"It's the act of converting mana into raw thermal energy—and then reversing it. Not a flame, but an extraction. Think of it like stealing heat from the air."
Kida nodded, hand outstretched as she followed his demonstration. She closed her eyes, focusing. A swirl of energy began to form—a small sphere of moisture rising from a cup of water beside her. It spun, slowed, then crystallized mid-air into a fragile flake of ice.
"Blizzard!" she whispered.
The flake shot forward, harmlessly colliding with Helios' shoulder in a tiny puff of snow.
"Well done," he said with genuine pride.
"That's amazing," Milo breathed, eyes wide.
"She's a natural," Skuld added, then arched a brow. "Want to see how we really use it?"
Helios leaned over and flicked his hand. A thin stream of water lifted from his goblet and arced toward Skuld.
"Oh no you don't," she said, grinning as her own water rose to meet his. They collided mid-air in a burst of cold mist.
"Are they—" Kida began.
"Yup," Kurai said flatly, already pushing her plate away. "And here comes the nonsense."
What followed was a duel of sheer, childish delight disguised as sorcery. Helios summoned streams of water, sending them coiling toward Skuld. She dodged, countering with her own stream, and then froze it into thin sheets of ice, which Helios promptly shattered with sharp gusts of Blizzard magic.
The two traded spell after spell, conjuring slippery puddles on the floor, flicks of snow to the face, and—at one point—a near miss that froze one of the wooden table legs solid. Skuld nearly slipped trying to dodge a blast, which Helios used to his advantage, hurling a narrow beam of water straight up to soak her from shoulder to boot.
"Ack—!" Skuld gasped, holding out her arms as the cold water clung to her clothes. "That was cheating!"
"You blinked. I took the opportunity," Helios said with a smug shrug.
"You're such a—" she started, but laughter broke through her words before she could finish the insult.
Kida clapped, practically glowing. "That looked like so much fun. Can I try?"
Skuld raised her wet sleeves and grinned. "You sure you're ready for this, princess?"
Kida gave a determined nod. "Absolutely."
Skuld cracked her neck dramatically and raised both hands. "Alright. Just don't cry when you're frozen."
Kida chuckled and stood beside her chair, calling up a swirl of water. Her Blizzard spell hovered, pulsing gently. The two exchanged a quick glance, then struck.
Kida launched a stream of snowflakes toward Skuld, who retaliated with a wave of water meant to trip her up. Kida surprised everyone by freezing the puddle mid-air, the sheet of ice falling flat like a trap door.
Skuld responded by condensing the moisture in the air above Kida into a dense icy snowball and dropped it—only for Kida to shatter it with a precise snap of her fingers.
The back and forth lasted nearly a minute, both of them laughing the entire time.
Eventually, Skuld water spun behind Kida and sent a light spray down her back, freezing it just enough to earn a squeal.
"You win!" Kida cried out between giggles. "That was incredible!"
Skuld let out a breath, shaking her damp hair. "You're not bad at all. Better than I expected."
"I can't wait to teach this to our people," Kida said excitedly. "If we make the spells harmless, we could turn them into games.
Imagine—Blizzard Tag or Water Dodge!"
Helios looked thoughtful. "Magical recreation as a teaching tool… not a bad idea. It would help people grow more comfortable with spellcasting."
"And kids would love it," Milo added.
Kurai, watching the water drip from Skuld's jacket, shook her head. "This is what we're doing now. Playing tag with elemental forces."
"Yes," Helios replied smugly. "And clearly, you're jealous you weren't invited."
Kurai scoffed, but a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "If I played, I'd win."
"Bold claim," Skuld challenged.
"Next time," Kida said warmly, wiping her hands. "We'll all play. Magic doesn't have to be just for battle."
Helios watched her for a moment, and his smile faded into something softer—approving, reflective. "You're right. It doesn't."
The meal slowly resumed as the group returned to their seats, now a little wetter but far more relaxed. Laughter lingered in the air like mist, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Atlantis felt less like a kingdom recovering from ruin and more like a home.