The wind behind me roared, and the dread riding it followed like a shadow with teeth.
I kept flying.
Tadewi's peak fell away; the sky thinned to pale ice-blue, then to the high cold where even storms hesitate. Somewhere behind me, Raiden's presence flared—a burning pulse under my skin. Not words. Not thought. Just pressure, like thunder deciding whether or not to break.
Go, I told the ache in my chest.
Do your part. I'll do mine.
The air accepted that. It shifted—stilled—then turned, guiding me down through a narrow pocket of cloud to a place that hadn't existed a heartbeat earlier.
A slit in the mountainside opened, veiled in blue mist.
I folded my wings and entered.
The passage was narrow, slate brushing my shoulders. Droplets clung to the walls like tiny stars. The hum grew louder with each breath—a low pressure at the base of my skull, a promise, a warning.
I rounded a final bend—
—and the world unfolded.
Water hung weightless in the air, floating in orbs that pulsed faint blue light. The floor shimmered, runes glowing softly, grown into the stone like the memory of lightning. And at the center:
A column of water and light twisted around a core of ancient stone.
The Lock.
Not carved.
Not crafted.
Born.
I approached, heart thundering.
"Breathe," Tadewi had said. "The wind despises performance."
So I breathed. And stepped forward.
My palm hovered a breath away from the column—then touched.
The world tipped.
I didn't sink.
I didn't drown.
The water accepted me.
I hung suspended in a womb of liquid light. The chamber dimmed. The Lock brightened—until there was nothing but the memory of sky and water.
Then—
Visions.
Not mine.
Two dragons cut through silver clouds—one deep-water blue, the other pale gold like the last breath of day. They danced. Or chose. Or both. Wind braided water; water steadied wind.
I felt their joy. Their astonishment. Their recognition.
Then—warriors. Nets. Iron barbs dropping like night.
The water dragon took the blow meant for her.
The air dragon lifted him upward, wind howling with grief.
They landed together on a sky-bridge. His blood fell like rain. She lowered her head to his—like a kiss. Like a promise.
Chains.
A king's trembling voice.
Fear disguised as righteousness.
The Lock pulsed once—like a heart remembering a wound.
A voice spoke—deep, cavern-hollow, gentle enough to hurt.
Child of primal storm.
The Lock was sealed by love. It will open only for the same.
My throat tightened. "Then tell me how."
When two dragons breathe as one, the seal yields.
"And if we're not mated?"
Then it waits. As we do. As water waits for sky.
The vision shifted. Death. Betrayal. A bond destroyed because mortals do not understand what they cannot command.
Beware, the voice murmured,
the gods fear the union of power and heart. Mortals fear what they cannot govern. Both will try to kill what you build.
"I don't know how to be anything else."
Then be that. But do not be alone.
Light blazed. Pain lanced up my arms—pure and bright. My hands curled into claws.
"Okay—okay—"
Touch it. Let it learn you.
I pressed my palms to the core.
Recognition hit like lightning.
Light stitched into my skin in three bright lines—two across my palms, one along my wrist. A crack split the Lock—a thin seam of brightness.
Not enough to open.
Enough to wake.
The chamber released me. My boots found wet stone. My hands glowed faintly, then dimmed.
Hurry, Primal One. Your other half needs you.
Raiden's presence slammed into me—fear, fury, resolve—before the wind swept me back down the passage.
Behind me, the Lock pulsed.
Awake.
I re-entered the chamber just as the column shuddered.
Then—
It opened.
Water spiraled upward. Light unfurled like petals.
And from the heart of the Lock floated a single object—
A scale, large as my palm, glowing blue and silver.
The water dragon's voice rumbled:
The Lock opens for those who echo what we lost. Take this. It will call the chamber to you.
I closed my fingers around it.
Cold flooded me—ancient, knowing, settling into my heartbeat.
Do you not wonder why the lightning one burns so loudly in your blood?
I stiffened. "Because we fought together. Because—"
Because you are mated, little one.
The world tilted.
"No," I whispered. "He would have known—"
Somewhere deep within, he has always known.
But flame fears what it cannot control.
My pulse roared.
Raiden.
My storm.
My ruin.
My impossible.
My mate.
The current seized me.
Go.
The relic waits.
And the darkness hunts faster than wind.
The ground heaved—
the wind punched upward—
and the mountain hurled me into the sky.
Wind carried me miles across the horizon to a floating peak wrapped in a spiraling blizzard—snow curling around it like a predator circling prey.
I dove into the storm.
A cavern revealed itself—cut into frozen stone. I slipped inside.
The cavern opened into a vast, frozen dome.
Ice spears hung above.
The floor: a solid lake cracked with glowing veins of blue light.
At its center—a pillar of ice shaped to cradle the scale.
My breath fogged.
"Okay," I whispered. "No turning back."
I pressed the scale into place.
Light detonated outward.
Ancient runes ignited.
The ground trembled.
A deep rumble rose—older than mountains.
The lake cracked.
A colossal shape shifted beneath the ice—shoulders like cliffs, limbs thick as pillars, horns curled like hooked glaciers. Cold blue eyes snapped open.
The lake shattered.
A massive frozen yeti, armored in ice plates, rose from the lake.
It roared—
Avalanche.
Its gaze locked on me.
It stepped forward—each movement shaking the cavern.
I swallowed.
"Of course it's gigantic."
The relic pulsed.
The guardian lowered its head.
And then—
it charged.