The courtyard was quiet again, the faint hum of lightning still coiling lazily around my veins. Lysera had stayed longer than expected, watching, studying. I could feel her patience wearing thin. Or maybe curiosity. Or both.
I stretched, letting my scars ache faintly — reminders of the Tower of Silence, of dungeons that wanted to kill me, of nights spent alone with the storm in my chest. That suffering was mine alone, but it had forged something sharper, something untouchable.
I let a small smirk curl across my lips.
"Getting tired of just standing there?" I asked. Then I rose fully, the storm inside me pulsing faintly, not violent, but enough to let her know it was alive. "If you wanna see it that bad… I guess I'll show you. But don't come crying to me when I beat you."
Her amber eyes narrowed, and a smile curved across her face — sharp, confident, perfectly matched to my arrogance.
"Oh, I won't cry," she said smoothly, voice low and amused. "But when I win, don't be surprised if you end up licking my boots for mercy."
I froze for just a heartbeat. Then laughed — deep, warm, amused. She had the nerve. The confidence. The fire to match the storm.
"Bold," I said, stepping closer, letting the sparks flicker across my fingers. "I like that. Means you're not boring."
"Boring is for people who play it safe," she replied, stepping forward, letting her heat radiate faintly. "I'm not here to watch a storm. I'm here to see if it can keep up with a flame. Or if it'll burn out before it hits the first match."
I tilted my head, letting my smirk widen just a fraction. "Flame, huh? Well… then I guess we'll find out who survives, and who just lights up the night before disappearing."
She laughed softly, a spark in her eyes that matched the fire she carried. "Then don't hold back. I've been waiting for someone worth burning against."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I won't. But don't cry when the storm shows you how it's done."
She leaned slightly closer, voice teasing, unwavering. "Storms can't scare me… but they can excite me. Let's see if you're more than just a name whispered in fear."
The tension between us shifted from challenge to recognition. Neither willing to yield, both aware of the stakes, both silently testing limits.
I could feel it already — the spark of rivalry, the pull of something more, the storm and the flame circling each other, aware, ready, dangerous.
And for a moment, just for a moment, I allowed myself a flicker of amusement — this was going to be fun.