The evening air was cool, scented with rain and faint ozone from my residual storm energy. The guild courtyard was quiet — only the faint hum of wraiths patrolling the shadows.
Lysera Valen had accepted my invitation to speak privately. Not in a meeting hall, not before an audience, but here, where the storm wraiths curled around us like silent witnesses.
She stood across from me, hands folded, amber eyes sharp yet curious. The faint heat of her divinity radiated outward, a subtle contrast to the storm pulsing through me.
"So… why did you contact me?" I asked first. Straight, no games.
Lysera's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Because you're unlike anyone else in this world. I've seen guild leaders, heroes, even bloodline prodigies. But you…" She gestured vaguely toward the violet sparks flickering across my hands, "there's a kind of chaos in you that doesn't exist anywhere else. And that chaos… it's fascinating."
I raised a brow. "Fascinating? That's your official reason? Not political alliances, or power, or proving yourself?"
Her gaze didn't waver. "I don't chase power for its own sake. I chase potential — potential to shape the world, to break limits. And if I can find someone who doesn't just have power, but understands it, then that's… rare. Valuable."
I let that settle. There was honesty there. Not the sharp, polished kind used to sway councils or intimidate rivals. Genuine.
"I'll admit," she continued softly, "I wanted to see if the rumors were true. The boy with purple lightning… the one they say survives calamity and catastrophic dungeons alone. If it's true, then you're not just a storm. You're something else entirely."
I laughed quietly, letting the sound mix with the distant patter of rain. "I didn't survive because I'm special. I survived because the system forced me to. And maybe because I refused to die."
She tilted her head, studying me, unafraid. "That's… honest. Most people would dress that up as courage, or talent. But you own the truth. That's why you're different."
The storm in me pulsed faintly, like it was pleased with her observation. I let the lightning flicker over my fingers, soft sparks tracing patterns in the air.
"And what now?" I asked. "Why come to me, of all people?"
Lysera's smile deepened, just a fraction. "I want to learn from you. Not just your power — your instincts, your approach. And… perhaps, one day, we can challenge each other. Not enemies, not rivals in the political sense. But… equals. People who understand the weight of divinity in their hands."
I let that sink in. Equal. Someone who might actually keep pace with the storm inside me.
"Then," I said, voice low but steady, "we'll see if you can survive being around it."
She laughed softly, a warm sound that cut through the faint hum of lightning and heat. "I think I can. For now."
For the first time in a long while, I felt it — not adrenaline, not power, not the pull of dungeons or chaos. Connection. A hint of understanding that didn't need words, just presence.
The storm around me quieted slightly, letting the violet light mingle with the soft glow of her flames. Two divinities, aware of each other, neither yielding, neither compromising.
And for a moment, in that quiet courtyard, the world beyond didn't exist.