The Earth King believed he had won.
That was his first mistake.
He stood before me in his throne room—hands gripping the stone armrests, spine rigid, eyes sharp with the kind of fear he mistook for resolve. Around him, his advisors lined the walls in practiced stillness, each one holding their breath like prey pretending not to bleed.
The room smelled of earth and iron.
Strength, permanence, legacy.
All the things he thought would protect him.
"You went behind my back," I said calmly.
My voice did not echo. It did not rise. It did not need to.
The Earth King swallowed. "I acted in the best interest of my kingdom."
"You attempted to execute my asset."
"She is not—"
Lightning cracked across the floor, stopping less than a breath from his feet. Stone blackened where it struck.
He flinched.
"She is," I continued evenly, "whatever I say she is."
Silence.
The shadows behind my ribs stirred, restless but obedient—for now.
"You gave your word," I went on. "Then you planned to break it. You diverted guards. You prepared execution routes. You assumed I would be… distracted."
His jaw tightened. "You were distracted."
A faint smile touched my mouth.
"And yet here you are."
His advisors shifted uneasily. One of them—a minister with too much gold in his sleeves—cleared his throat. "Prince Raiden, surely this misunderstanding—"
I turned my head.
That was all it took.
The shadows lunged.
They did not kill him. They pinned him—slamming his body against the far wall, feet dangling inches above the stone floor. His scream cut off as darkness coiled around his throat, just tight enough to remind him how fragile sound truly was.
I walked closer.
"You will live," I told the Earth King quietly, eyes never leaving his. "Because a dead king creates chaos. Chaos invites enemies. And I do not tolerate inefficiency."
The shadows loosened slightly.
He gasped.
"But make no mistake," I continued, voice low and precise, "your authority exists now because I allow it. Your kingdom stands because I find it useful. And if you ever again attempt to dispose of something that belongs to me—"
Lightning crawled up my arm, illuminating the fear etched deep into his face.
"—I will bury this mountain so thoroughly that future civilizations will mistake it for myth."
I stepped back.
The shadows released him.
He collapsed into his throne, shaking, dignity shattered beyond repair.
"We understand each other," I said.
He nodded frantically.
Good.
I turned and left without another word.
The Earth Kingdom's lower districts breathed differently at night.
Above, the city of stone gleamed with order—lanterns burning steady, guards pacing predictable routes, nobles sleeping soundly behind reinforced walls.
Below, the slums sprawled like an open wound.
Cracked stone. Broken arches. Homes stacked on top of one another like desperate prayers that had been answered incorrectly. Fires burned in barrels. Voices murmured in low, cautious tones.
This was where truth lived.
I walked alone, cloak drawn tight, lightning suppressed beneath my skin. No banners. No escorts. No announcement.
The shadows followed.
They always did.
They are here, they whispered, slithering along the walls and through the cracks in the street.
Water Kingdom accents. Soft shoes. Loose tongues.
I slowed.
Interesting conversations, they continued, pleased.
A flicker of curiosity brushed my thoughts.
Show me.
The shadows rippled, then pulled—
Not physically.
Spatially.
I stepped into them, and the world folded.
Stone bled into darkness. Distance collapsed.
And then I was there.
An alley lit by a single sputtering lantern. Two men leaned against a crate stacked with stolen goods, laughing softly to themselves. Water Kingdom traders—judging by their accents, their clothes, the smug confidence of men who believed themselves untouchable.
"…I'm telling you," one said, snickering. "She's got some ass on her."
The shadows hissed.
The other laughed. "A Primal Dragon, huh? Bet she feels better than the trash we usually collect."
Heat flared under my skin.
"I'd pay good coin just to see if the rumors are true," the first added. "Scales or not."
Something snapped.
The shadows surged.
I did not step forward.
I appeared.
One heartbeat I was not there.
The next, my hand was around the first man's throat, lifting him clean off the ground.
His laughter cut off in a wet gasp.
The second man stumbled back, eyes wide, mouth opening to scream—
Lightning cracked.
It struck the wall beside his head, embedding itself into the stone with a shriek of energy.
"Quiet," I said softly.
He froze.
The man in my grip clawed uselessly at my wrist, feet kicking air, face purpling as his breath failed him.
I leaned closer, voice calm and conversational.
"You will speak respectfully," I told him, "about things that don't belong to you."
He tried to nod.
I tightened my grip just enough to make the lesson sink deeper.
Then I turned my gaze to the other man.
"You," I said. "You are going back to the Water Kingdom."
He swallowed hard. "I—I don't know who you think—"
Lightning danced across my knuckles.
"You are going back," I repeated, "to deliver a message."
His knees buckled. "Y-yes."
"Tell the Primal Dragon," I said, eyes never leaving his friend's face, "that I have a gift for her."
The shadows coiled eagerly.
"If she wishes to accept it," I continued, "she will meet me at the Forever Twin Falls at sunbreak. Two days from now."
The man nodded frantically.
"And if you fail to deliver this message," I added quietly, "the dead will hear about it. And the shadows."
I smiled.
"Well, they're everwhere."
He bolted.
His footsteps echoed down the alley until they dissolved into the night.
I looked back at the man still dangling from my grip.
Tears streamed down his face now. Fear had stripped him of whatever arrogance he'd worn seconds ago.
I tilted my head.
"And you," I said pleasantly, "are going to give me the perfect gift."
The shadows tightened.
His scream never left the alley.
When I finally released him, the alley was silent again.
Too silent.
I wiped my hand against my cloak, expression composed, pulse steady once more.
Control restored.
And yet—
Warmth lingered in my chest.
Unwanted.
Unexplained.
I turned away, shadows parting for me like obedient servants as I melted back into the Earth Kingdom's underbelly.
Two days.
Forever Twin Falls.
Sunbreak.
Lyra would come.
Not because I threatened her.
But because she would want to know what I had done.
What I was willing to do.
And when she stood before me again—
I would see if the fire in her eyes matched the one she had left burning in my chest.
One way or another.
I had to see her again.