The water hit Elara like a hammer made of ice.
She didn't even have time to scream. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and the cold instantly seized her muscles. It wasn't normal water; it was Void melt, liquid so cold it burned like acid.
She sank.
Her limbs felt heavy, useless. The dark water filled her nose and mouth, tasting of metallic magic. She tried to kick, to swim toward the surface, but her body refused to obey. The shock had paralyzed her.
I survived the sacrifice, she thought dimly, watching the bubbles of her last breath drift upward. I survived the raiders. I survived the monster. And now I'm going to drown because he wanted to give me a bath.
Above the surface, Kael sat on the cliff edge, his tail wagging.
He watched the ripples where he had thrown the Small Thing. He waited.
He expected her to pop up, splashing and playing. He had seen river otters do it. Humans were soft and squishy; surely they were buoyant?
Seconds passed.
The ripples faded. The water went still.
Kael's tail stopped wagging.
He cocked his head. "Chef?"
No answer. Just the howling wind of the Void Wood.
"Elara?"
The water remained black and silent.
A cold spike of terror, sharper than any spear, pierced Kael's chest. She wasn't playing. She wasn't washing.
She was gone.
"NO."
The roar tore from his throat, shattering the ice on the cliff edge.
Kael didn't dive; he launched himself. He hit the water with the force of a meteor.
He didn't need to swim. He was a creature of the deep Void. He propelled himself downward, his glowing blue eyes piercing the murky darkness.
He saw her.
She was drifting toward the bottom, her hair floating like a halo around her pale face. She looked like a broken doll sinking into the abyss.
Kael reached her in a heartbeat. He didn't use his claws; he used the soft pads of his palms, scooping her up with terrifying gentleness. He clutched her against his chest, shielding her from the water, and kicked upward.
They breached the surface in an explosion of spray.
Kael scrambled onto the shore, his claws tearing deep gouges in the rock. He laid her down on the black sand.
She wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. Her lips were blue.
"Wake," he commanded, his voice shaking. "Wake. Fix."
He nudged her with his snout. Nothing.
Panic, blind and white-hot, seized him. He pressed his ear to her chest.
Thump... thump...
Faint. Slow. But there.
She was alive, but the cold had taken hold deeply. She was vibrating again, shivering so violently her teeth clicked together with a sickening sound.
Elara coughed, spewing water. She gasped, sucking in air, but her eyes didn't focus. "C-c-cold," she whimpered, curling into a fetal ball. "H-hurts."
Kael paced around her, frantic.
He was the King of the Void. He could wither forests with a breath. He could crush armies with his tail. He could bend shadows to his will.
But he didn't know how to make a human warm fast enough.
He breathed hot air onto her, but the dampness of her clothes just made the cold cling tighter. She was fading again, her eyes rolling back.
He tried to touch her, but his scales were wet and cold from the lake.
"Useless!" he roared inside his own head.
He looked at the mountain peak across the lake, a jagged spire of stone that had stood for a millennia.
He needed to vent. The frustration was too much. It was boiling in his veins like magma. He was powerful, yet he was watching the only thing he cared about die because of his stupidity.
Kael whipped around, facing the mountain.
He opened his mouth. The violet light in his throat didn't just glow; it blinded.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAH!"
He unleashed a beam of pure Void energy. It struck the side of the mountain.
There was no explosion. There was just disintegration.
The rock groaned, then collapsed. Thousands of tons of stone crumbled into dust, sliding into the lake with a thunderous crash that shook the ground beneath Elara's body.
He had redrawn the map of the Void Wood in a fit of temper.
The dust settled. Kael stood panting, steam rising from his scales.
He turned back to Elara.
The destruction hadn't helped. She was still shivering. She was still dying.
The rage evaporated, replaced by a crushing, hollow fear. He crept toward her, lowering his massive body until his belly touched the sand.
He whimpered. It was a high, keening sound that didn't belong in the throat of a monster.
He carefully extended a claw, hooking it gently into the back of her soaked tunic. He lifted her, cradling her against his chest, keeping her off the cold ground.
He needed heat. Real heat. Not just his body.
"Home," he decided. "Bath. Hot."
He turned and began to run.
He ran smoother than he ever had in his life. He kept his upper body perfectly still, absorbing every shock with his legs, so the fragile girl in his arms wouldn't be jostled.
He had broken her. Now, he would burn the world down if that's what it took to fix her.