Zephyra was an ancient planet; its mountains rose to the skies, its endless valleys and vast seas shaped by Zeythara's power. Every corner of the world bore her mark; rivers and lakes thrived on her storms. The planet itself was named after her—the Goddess of the Last Lightning, a queen of women alone: Zeythara. Zephyra was her storm; its power spent in her stead.
With the first light of dawn, the training grounds came alive. Within the ranks of traditional female warriors, all eyes followed Zeythara. They wielded swords, bows, and enchanted tools, prepared to test both their strength and intelligence. The arena stretched for five kilometers; stone pillars, platforms, and ramps leading into the valleys challenged the warriors both physically and magically.
Zeythara stepped forward, blue lightning crackling in her palms. The ground trembled with each step, the wind twisted and swirled, and her gaze cast a blue light across the horizon. Her stare instilled both fear and inspiration in the warriors. Though men still looked down on them—kings, gods, and arrogant sorcerers—Zeythara could conquer them with a single glance.
The silence was broken by a figure emerging on the horizon. Black-haired, pale-skinned, and surrounded by a shifting aura: Kaelric. The ground cracked beneath his steps, stones scattered, and the wind's howl echoed through the valleys. Zeythara fixed her eyes on him, sensing the waves of his power.
Kaelric's voice blended with the wind:
"Zeythara… Goddess of the Last Lightning. I have come to witness your power."
Zeythara spread her hands; blue lightning surged.
"Do not expect me to kneel; you are only human."
Kaelric struck first. Dark energy tore through the air; stones were thrown, and a searing heat filled the surroundings. Zeythara unleashed her lightning; blue streaks split the sky, repelling the darkness with explosive bursts. Valleys shook, forests trembled, and the sky reverberated with the clash.
Their battle was not merely physical; it was a silent duel of glances, precise maneuvers, and surges of energy. Zeythara measured Kaelric's strength, disrupted his strategies, and cornered him with the intensity of her lightning. Step by step, Kaelric retreated, yet maintained his presence on the field, his cunning and magic testing Zeythara's superiority.
Suddenly, Zeythara raised her palms to the sky; lightning collided with Kaelric's dark energy in an apocalyptic storm. Valleys flared with light, forests shivered, and the sky was painted with a swirl of blue and white. Kaelric stepped back, yet his gaze continued to challenge her.
Zeythara lunged forward; storms erupted from her hands, rippling through the wind.
"Remember, women never kneel. The one who will kneel is always you," she said.
Kaelric fell back, but it was only a temporary pause. Zeythara stood tall; Zephyra shone with the power of her lightning, declaring her supremacy in a world where women were never underestimated. No matter how strong or magical Kaelric was, on this planet, Zeythara's rule was absolute. A storm approaching on the horizon hinted at the trials yet to come.