With a final wave to my family fading on the docks of Eldr, the weight of departure settled, yet anticipation stirred. I boarded the ship, the scent of salt and sea filling the air – a stark contrast to the familiar stone and fire of the castle. The captain, a gruff Humarein with a weathered face, offered a respectful nod as I made my way towards my cabin.
As I stepped into the ship's main common room, a flash of familiar crimson blood hair caught my eye. My cousin, Enchidna, the daughter of my aunt Allana, looked up. Her face lit up the moment she saw me; with an enthusiastic "Hi, Ven!" she bolted towards me, her usual mischievous grin plastered across her face
Enchidna was as energetic as always. We used to meet occasionally at the training grounds when we were younger, but after she turned eight and began attending the Drakarian Royal Academy, our paths rarely crossed. Still, I often heard tales of her latest pranks and escapades within the castle walls. Despite her mischievous nature, my grandfather absolutely adored her, even though her spirited antics, much like her mother Aunt Allana's own youthful mischief, often earned her constant scoldings from the teachers and even the Headmaster at the Drakarian Royal Academy.
She wasn't particularly tall, her lean, athletic frame already hinting at her mother Aunt Allana's more curvaceous build. As she'd matured into adulthood, her figure had developed a familiar, striking fullness, her breasts notably big, truly making her a physical mirror of Aunt Allana's impressive form. Like me, she had the distinct curled horns that marked her as a true member of the royal bloodline. Her crimson blood hair was the exact vibrant shade of Allana's, though Enchidna kept hers strikingly short. Her sharp, bright eyes held the same glint of amusement I often saw in her mother's whenever she was plotting something. "It's a symbol of freedom!" she'd declared whenever someone questioned it. "It's my hair, so nobody should tell me what to do with it!" Beneath that rebellious streak, however, lay a sharp mind. Enchidna was exceptionally smart and a fast learner. She had managed to control her elemental bind at the astonishingly young age of six, a feat most children didn't achieve until at least ten years old, when they typically began developing their subtypes.
"So, how's the void?" she asked me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, bringing up the one thing I was most frustrated about.
I sighed, shaking my head. "I still can't figure it out. It's just... dormant."
As I spoke, my gaze drifted across the common room, landing on another young Drakarian girl. She was tall for her age, with a lean, almost lithe build, far from the curvaceous or voluptuous figures common among Drakarian women. What truly made her stand out was her long, striking blue hair—a color incredibly rare, as most Drakarians possessed common black hair, unlike our family's crimson. A faint electric aura shimmered around her, much like the one that sometimes crackled around my father. She also bore straight horns, unmistakably Drakarian, unlike the curled horns of our royal lineage. Another Lightning Bearer? But the Lightning Bind was supposed to appear only once every fifty years, and my father certainly wasn't fifty yet.
"Who is she?" I whispered to Enchidna, intrigued. Enchidna followed my gaze, a knowing glint appearing in her sharp eyes.
"Oh, her? She's my friend from the academy!" Enchidna said brightly, already pulling me towards the girl. "Come on, I'll introduce you."
As we approached, Enchidna called out, "Raika! This is my cousin, Venator!"
The girl, Raika, barely glanced up from the book she was engrossed in, her long blue hair falling over her shoulder. She just gave me a quick, indifferent look before her eyes returned to the page.
"Ven," Enchidna continued, undeterred by Raika's lack of enthusiasm, "this is Raika. She's got the Lightning Bind."
For the rest of the journey, Raika remained mostly silent, eyes glued to her book. Yet, my curiosity about her only grew. I'd never seen a Drakarian with blue hair before; most Drakarians had black hair, unlike our royal crimson. Moreover, her horns were unmistakably Drakarian – straight, unlike the curled horns that marked my royal bloodline.e.
"Are you... from a different part of Drakarian?" I finally ventured, trying to initiate conversation.
She slowly lifted her head, her gaze piercing. There was a look in her eyes that chilled me, as if she despised me. "You only came here because you are royals," she stated flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.
I was a bit shocked by her bluntness, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps her sharp words were merely the result of sea travel, or perhaps she truly held such a harsh view of royals.
Before I could respond, Enchidna bounded over, interrupting the tense silence. "Let's spar, Ven! It's been so long!" she exclaimed, already bouncing on the balls of her feet, eager for a challenge.
We moved to an open deck, the rolling waves providing a rhythmic backdrop to our bout. Enchidna was incredibly fast, a blur of motion, but in terms of pure physical prowess, I was faster—a testament to years under my father and Gustav's brutal training. She brought out her bind, a Fire type with the subtype of Homing Fire. She launched firebolts that glowed with an eerie intelligence, relentlessly following my every dodge and weave. I evaded everything she shot until she pushed herself, the effort clear on her face.
On the upper deck, the captain watched, a wide smile spreading across his face, clearly enjoying the spectacle. But then, Enchidna unleashed a truly terrifying barrage: a torrent of what felt like a thousand homing firebolts. They were hot, fast, and overwhelmed my senses. I barely registered slipping on the slick deck.
Panic seized me, and I saw the captain, his smile vanished, scrambling to reach us, but he was too far. Enchidna's face contorted in alarm; she clearly couldn't control a thousand firebolts at once. They were going to hit. I was there, looking directly at the blazing inferno heading for me, thinking, I'm going to burn.
Then, my stomach lurched, the familiar pain flaring to life, just as it had during my first awakening. The same voice, ancient and resonant, echoed in my mind: "The void is about will. Time and space will follow the bearer." Instinctively, I straightened my arm, holding my hand out towards the incoming fire. A brilliant violet light erupted from my palm. What happened next, I only know from Enchidna's frantic retelling later: the thousand firebolts, seemingly inches from striking me, simply dissipated into nothingness, vanishing as if they had never been aimed at me at all.
The last thing I remembered before darkness took me was the faint, desperate cry of Enchidna: "Venator!"
The next thing I knew, I was lying in a comfortable bed, the familiar scent of Drakarian herbs filling the air. Sunlight streamed through a nearby window, illuminating the room in a soft, golden glow. I pushed myself up, my head throbbing, but otherwise feeling surprisingly well. A quick glance confirmed I was in the ship's infirmary.. "So, that's the Void," I thought to myself, the words echoing the voice from the void. My own bind, finally unleashed, even if only for a fleeting, desperate moment. Enchidna, wide-eyed and shaken, had explained it all: the violet light, the sudden disappearance of her firebolts, and my subsequent collapse. She kept touching my arm, as if to confirm I was truly there. Raika, though I didn't see her directly, apparently just watched, silent as ever. The captain had been stunned, both by the power and the danger averted.
For the remainder of our journey to the Unity Academy, I sparred with Enchidna daily, trying to recreate that moment. I pushed, I focused, I even tried to feel that familiar stomach pain. But nothing. The violet light, the voice, the strange disappearance of anything I tried to affect – it never happened again. It was as if I'd dreamed it all. I didn't understand why it had happened before, and why I couldn't replicate it. It was as frustrating as my years of dormant power.
Then, finally, the distant outline of Farland, the human capital, began to appear on the horizon. The journey was almost over. We had arrived.