The carriage back to the estate was quiet this time. The conference had gone smoothly on the surface, but I knew the whispers would spread. Guilds were already talking about me — the boy who refused councils, the storm walking alone with a guild of his own.
Kaelen, sitting beside me, broke the silence. "You really think anyone could handle a fight with you right now?"
I smiled faintly, looking at the clouds overhead. "If they tried… they'd learn why a storm doesn't negotiate. It destroys."
It was days later that I first met her.
The guild hall had hosted a summit for smaller, rising powers, a gesture of political courtesy. I entered as usual, calm, surveying the crowd. That's when I saw her — the girl standing tall among her guild members, shoulders straight, eyes like molten amber, a presence that immediately demanded attention.
She wasn't flashy. She didn't crack jokes or draw stares with theatrics. And yet, the air around her vibrated with something that made my storm pulse.
"Ah… Ashura Bellet," she said, voice smooth, confident. Not a trace of fear. "I've heard… interesting things."
I raised a brow. "And you are?"
"I'm Lysera Valen," she replied, tilting her head slightly. "Guild leader, inheritor of the Flame God's power."
Flame. I recognized it instantly. The heat, the aura, the latent destruction coiled in her posture. She could ignite whole halls with a thought if she chose. Yet she held it in check, just like I had learned to do with my own storm.
The world was full of gods.
Not in the abstract sense, but inherited, living power flowing through select bloodlines:
Flame, Fire, Plasma – raw destructive energy, heat bending reality, eruption of living flames. Water, Ice, Blood – control of matter in fluid forms, manipulation of life essence, creation of healing or venomous attacks. Earth, Metal, Matter – shaping terrain, weapons, or even solidifying air into lethal constructs. Wind, Lightning, Amethyst Lightning – storm manipulation, movement acceleration, lightning capable of tearing through dimensions. Darkness, Light – manipulation of perception, pure energy, or shadow/matter conversion.
And then there was me.
Amethyst Lightning. Purple Lightning.
It wasn't just a color. It was a manifestation of void-infused storm energy. While normal lightning could split stone, sever steel, or overwhelm magical shields, purple lightning carried a fragment of the Nameless God's anomaly — energy that bent space slightly, that could phase partially through defenses, that resonated with wraiths and storms alike.
It was rare. Dangerous. And so far, unique.
When I extended my hand slightly toward her, letting the purple sparks curl like living serpents, she didn't flinch. Instead, her amber gaze sharpened, a smile tugging at her lips.
"You're different," she said. "I can feel it… not just the power. The chaos beneath it. I like chaos."
I smirked. "Then we're… compatible."
But compatibility didn't mean trust. Not yet.
I had heard rumors of others like me — rare individuals scattered across continents who carried godly inheritances:
One from the frozen north, with Ice and Water divinities fused with a unique void anomaly. Another from the desert kingdoms, bloodlines fused with Solar Fire and Earth. A shadowed figure in the southern archipelago, wielding Darkness and Matter.
Some of them were said to rival nations themselves. And when the day came that our paths crossed, it wouldn't be a greeting. It would be a collision of storm against storm. Some would become allies, others enemies, but none would be neutral.
For now, though, Lysera was close enough to test. I extended a hand, letting faint sparks flicker across her palm — a greeting, a challenge, a spark of something more.
"Don't think I'll go easy on you," I warned.
She laughed softly. "Neither will I."
The storm in me hummed, subtle, restrained. But I knew this: the violet lightning was more than power. It was a signal — a statement. And the world, already whispering of me, had yet to see the full storm.