Proselyte was energized with a raucous fervor of a scale which vastly outstripped that of the usual bustle of the small city state. Once a year the physical entente was bathed in a wide array of vibrant reds and blues; buildings and streets were dressed in rich linens and nationalistic tapestries. Dichotomous paints fell from windows and people alike. For this one time in the year both members from either sodality could be seen peacefully walking down the same streets enjoying the same foods and the same sights.

The elemental festival was the continents largest yearly event which celebrated the alliance between the two sodalities, no matter how fragile that alliance may have been. Countless stalls boasting the pride of their homelands crowded the busy streets. The scent of fat fish and plump fruits emanated from the temporary restaurants of rain while oddly juxtaposed on the street opposite were the boiling stews and roasted meats of cinder. Not even a full block away one could see the clashing aesthetics of the rain’s diverse flowers against the cinder’s detailed metallurgy. Though so close together these divergent residents took no arms and bore no malice but rather joined for a unified solidarity; for a week in the year, they appreciated one another’s culture and art; for a week in the year, they tolerated one another’s blood and lineage.

As much as the event was a festive celebration, it was also much more than that. On a more honest level it was an opportunity for the sodalities to vaunt their power to the other; nothing showcased this better than the elemental tournament.

Though built for the grand centennial Tournament, the arena of Empedocles remained unused to such a goal for a century. The arena was a towering spherical monument that stood impossibly balanced upon its own vomitorium stairwells. This glorious architectural marvel though would if not otherwise repurposed have been but a curious exhibit of the city state. The arena director Empedocles himself however was heavily invested in the relations of the sodalities; so, in the interim of the arena’s out of reach objective, he graciously lent the arena out so that it could house the combative duels that made the elemental festival so popular. Both sodalities would pick out their most skilled fighters for the duel and have them combat each other in a grand showcase of their power. In many ways the elemental tournament was simply a smaller replicant of The Tournament, but instead simply confined to only members of the sodalities.

The arena of Empedocles currently was filled to the brim as an eager crowd waited with bated breath for the opening clash within the main bracket of the elemental tournament to begin. On either end of the arena an extended platform seated the royal families of the sodalities. Both royal families were fully present for the debut battle of the festivals most anticipated showing. Each ruler sat directly across from each other but neither bothered to acknowledge the other’s derisive glances. At the far back of the rain’s seating, deeply nestled within the nosebleeds, a young Névé witnessed her first battle of the elemental festival.

The center stage was surrounded by an elevated platform isolated from both the audience and combative area. The platform was filled with a detailed weave of glowing runes where many wizards stood at the ready casting a protective dome to keep the upcoming battle restrained to within the arena’s confines and away from the audience.

At the center of the stage two men stood poised for battle. One carried the military garb of rain and the other of cinder. As soon as the gong announced the battle’s start the two exploded into a flurry of elemental confliction. The crowd was ecstatic cheering and shouting at every twist and turn of the battle. Each speck of blood and broken bone merely raising the stakes and with such the investment into the action’s course. The fighters were closely matched, and the battle stretched on for a long time though it never relented in tenacity. The attacks only got larger; the aggression only got greater. The battle was finally declared over when the cinder fighter had burned his opponents left arm to ash. The rain fighter collapsed to the floor without even a stump to remember the limb by. The crowd roared in excitement, those of cinder standing in applause while the rain’s lamented in sorrow.

A group of healers ran onto the arena floor to collect the writhing loser while the victor happily waved away his audience walking off stage. To take their place another man appeared wearing neutral brown clothing neither representing the colors of cinder nor rain. “Wow, what an exciting embarkment into the main event! I’m sure no one was expecting such an intense showing on the first day of the festival. Due to the unexpected length of the battle however we will be going straight into an intermission, though for those of you who want to stay we still have an exciting sideshow to entertain you with!”

A woman with a blank expression shook Névé’s shoulder. “It is time.” Névé simply nodded her head in understanding and stood up to follow the woman.

Much of the crowd was bustling and moving about but the showman continued unperturbed. “I’m sure after such an intense battle everyone would appreciate a much more relaxing event, so during this intermission we will play the first juvenile match of the festival! Representing the Sodality of Cinder, we have Sinecure Blaze! At only five years old Mr. Blaze surely has a bright future already showing an admirable control over fire. And representing the sodality of rain we have Névé! Despite being a commoner and a mere four years old, Névé has self-taught herself the secrets of water garnering the attention of her countrymen!”

With the announcement of her name Névé walked onto the stage facing the young boy in front of her. Already before the match started she was intently focused on absorbing his every quality rapidly deconstructing every detail that the boy let slip. His stance was pathetic, he made no efforts to hide the fact that he was right hand dominant, and he had by no means accustomed himself to the restrictive strain of the protective padding that the juvenile bracket was forced to wear. The boy naively stood with a noble arrogance; she could see that his name was sharper than his proverbial sword.

Those in the audience who remained during this intermission cooed at the adorable children fawning at how those children so seriously tried to mimic the epic ferocity of the main bracket fighters.

“Now let the first duel of the elemental tournament Juvenile bracket of 3989 commence!” The man rose his hand in the air and the gong chimed. As soon as Névé heard the ring she ran towards her opponent. The boy had not expected her to reach him so quickly and by the stunned gasps neither did the crowd apparently. A weak flame puttered from his right hand and Névé quickly grabbed his wrist with one hand pulling it away from his body and with a sweeping high kick coated in water smashed his elbow out of its skin disabling the arm which limply fell to his side. The boy let out a pained cry tears streaming from his eyes.

Before anyone else could react Névé took the clear opportunity, the first thing she had ever been taught in training was to utilize every source of water she could. Névé took control of the boy’s tears forcing them back into his eyes with a violent force irritating and blinding the bloodied child. She plunged her surprisingly powerful fist into the boy’s gut causing him to keel over and collapse onto the ground. With a practiced elegance she then coalesced the water from the humid atmosphere into a long thin tentacle; her spontaneous creation wormed its way through the air to wrap around the boy’s small throat. The young child’s face reddened, and his eyes began to bulge as Névé tightened her makeshift garotte.

With his one good arm the boy desperately scratched at the choking liquid, but he could do little more than briefly eddy the current. Névé found herself surprised by how trivial the fight had been, how did this boy ever survive his training sessions with that degree of skill? The fight was so simple that Névé wasn’t sure what to do with herself, she was choking the boy out with her water, but he was so bad at managing the threat she didn’t even have to grapple with him. Did he forget that he was a child of cinder? Névé turned to her chaperone standing at the edge of the arena to ask for clarification on what she should do. Her chaperone was dramatically waving her arms in a motion as if begging her to stop: that’s when her focus on her fight relented and she heard the incessant ringing of a gong.

She allowed her weapon to evaporate back into the atmosphere and turned to face the crowd just as the cinder fighter did when he won. Though she didn’t seem to receive as warm a welcome as he did. Not even those of her own sodality were cheering, instead an oppressive terror filled the entire audience. The crowd who previous to the fight were leaving for the intermission had all frozen on the stairs and exits staring aghast at the stage. Another group of healers ran on stage but rather than take the boy away they began healing him on the spot. Another group of adults ran towards Névé blocking her from the boy and began hurriedly pushing her off stage.

As soon as Névé made it off stage her chaperone quickly grabbed her pulling her off into the combatants changing room out of sight from the increasingly furious crowd. Her chaperone’s face had far since lost the stoicism it once had when she brought Névé to the arena now being replaced with shear panic. “Névé are you crazy?! Why would you do that to the poor child?!”

Névé tilted her head at the question in confusion. She did not understand why everyone had been so roused by the battle, it was much less impressive than the one that the two adults had earlier, and the boy’s injuries were far less severe, yet somehow everyone was much more disturbed by it. Névé answered her riled chaperone with a calm self-assured confidence “I was winning the fight.”

An illustrious manifold garden splayed itself out from the back of the university campus. Snuggled within the large imprisonment of Proselyte was that significant blossom of nature held in flourishment by the magics of Ersatz university. A garden both for noble display and alchemical harvesting, it was a near exhaustive collection terribly dense even through its tremendous size.

Though dense in greenery its human flow remained dim, only the infrequent explorative whims of ambitious students or tired interns would occasionally wander in to collect ingredients. For the most part the garden was appreciated from above. The circling towers of the university had a near omniscient view of the beautiful canopy drawn by the lustrous nature. Though under the canopy a crowded solitude lived.

Inside the garden, hidden from the observational towers and deep enough to avoid attention from the shallow delving inquisitives, there was a small opening. Through a wall of thick bristling bushes, a small circle containing but a single flower and a single girl rested.

Névé sat next to the flower stretching her sore limbs. Her body was littered in multicolored bruises and her face was driven near unrecognizable as one of her brown eyes were swollen shut under the puffy bloating of bruised skin. Her lips and eyes were terribly battered, and her ears were burning red.

Things became very hectic after her debut battle; the sodality of cinder was quite unhappy with the ‘show of aggression’ and were threatening retaliation; meanwhile, the rain denied having planned for the occurrence. They claimed that it was purely coincidence and that Névé’s talents were simply underestimated by the festival staff. The festival staff in turn did not take the push of responsibility lightly and had their own misgivings to share. Things ended relatively peacefully with Névé being expunged from this year’s tournament and receiving what she was told was a minor retaliatory punishment, but to her felt quite severe. Névé didn’t understand why everyone was in such an uproar and her confusion was thankfully alleviated when she met the rain’s royal family who told her behind closed doors that she had done a wonderful thing and that they were very proud of her. They even said that when the festival ended, and they all returned to the sodality her ‘weak willed chaperone’ would be replaced and they would ensure that she had the best resources available to curate her growth. Though for now she was supposed to lay low and stay away from any member of the sodality of cinder until the festival was over. Apparently, it would be safest for Névé to stay out of sight and hopefully out of mind for the rest of the festival duration.

Névé was carefully using a collected thorn from the nearby bushes to lance the swollen mess around her eye and letting a stream of pressurized blood jettison out from the blobby mass squirting onto the once brightly green grass. She pinched the swollen clump of flesh forcing out more of the blood until finally it had shrunken enough that she could see clearly again.

Névé had collected a series of plants on her way to this small alcove and began grinding and mixing the components together in fabrication of a series of healing salves and calming drugs. The rain royalty told her that since now that her potential was obvious, she need not worry about commoner problems like food and housing which was nice, but she doubted her new chaperone would have as practically useful advice like what common herbs abated infections or which flower buds removed hunger. Her work was interrupted by the shuffling of vegetation in the distance. The place being a metropolitan garden as it was meant that the encroaching entity could only be a human. Though given her current infamy she would have preferred a wild beast.

She could hear the annoyed grunts of a young boy struggling through the foliage as he slowly made his way closer to her location. Névé remained still and quiet hoping he would wander by oblivious to her hideaway, alas luck was never her strong suit and the boy burst out of the bristling bushes riddled in thorny spikes. To most humans he was an undoubtedly young boy but being nine he was more than twice her age and while she was quite small for her age, he was significantly larger than his peers. He was tall and muscular, his hair disheveled with twigs and leaves mixed in. The boy swiped his hands across his royal clothes that bore the colors of the sodality of cinder to wipe any dust off and then rose his eyes to catch a glimpse of the young girl, or more precisely her colors.

The boy reacted without hesitation fanning a large ball of flame out of his fist and hurtling it towards the little girl. Névé casually leaned to the side as the fireball flew passed her crashing into the small flower adjacent disintegrating it. Névé immediately dropped into a defensive stance and started analyzing her opponent for any information. Unfortunately, this child was much more skilled than her previous tournament contestant and his added size posed a daunting challenge for her. The boy engulfed himself in a thick coat of fire, raging tongues of flame licked off his roused body, the heat permeated through the entire clearing hitting Névé’s face in oppressive waves. He stared back at the young child with nothing but pure hatred.

Névé prepared herself for his upcoming attack by enwrapping herself in a thin film of cool water, though significantly less in volume than her opponents flame, a concentrated flow of essence pumped through the liquid armor. The turbulent fire concentrated against the boy’s dominant hand forming into a sharp spear tip and he leapt towards the girl plunging his burning fist towards her chest. Névé kept her body calm and her mind clear, she cleanly twisted her body sideways so that the boy’s fist missed her. A cool smirk grew on Névé as she could see herself triumph over this daunting challenger though as if to scold her arrogance she was suddenly caught by surprise when the boy’s fist erupted sending a scorching heat out in every direction quickly evaporating her magic infused armor. Rather than let all of her precious water be destroyed she let the liquid armor drop to the ground muddying the dirt below and braved the oncoming flames head on.

The sheer force of the explosion sent Névé flying back and crashing against the hard garden grounds. All of her pains and bruises from her earlier punishment each awoke once more with a renewed anguish with the added scalding from her own armor having previously try to broil her alive. Névé wasn’t given any time to rue her bodies state as her opponent kicked towards her head with a blazing foot. Névé quickly rolled away to just barely let the foot miss and as soon as it passed her head, she rolled back inwards wrapping her legs around his one supporting leg and tripping the boy sending him tumbling into the damp mud where she had previously shed her armor. Névé quickly retook hold over the water soaked within the mud and commanded it bury the boy as rapidly as possible. Once he was fully encased she stripped the water out of the mud instantly hardening it and waited for him to suffocate.

She could hear muffled cries come from under the earth, though where her previous opponent earlier that day cried for mercy this one called much more for vengeance. The boy attempted to burn his way free, but his trials did little more than let a few streams of smoke notify which holes Névé needed to plug to properly lock him in. Once she fully sealed him in any further attempts with fire just burned through his oxygen supply expediting his asphyxiation.

Névé waited a few minutes for a silence to settle below her feet. She was fully content to let him die. She had always been told by her parents and teachers that those of cinder deserved nothing more than absolute animosity and it wasn’t too strange for the occasional sodality member to go mysteriously missing during the element festival. Though given some time for pensive reflection she realized that murdering this boy probably was not abiding by her laying low requirement which she was ordered to follow. If she let him go everyone would understand that she was only enacting self-defense, right? She really didn’t want to be punished again.

Névé embedded her water back into the dirt moistening it into malleable mud and then shifting it aside so that his head was no longer buried. The boy had lost all capacity for fury or spite, his eyes were glazed over, and his breath was slow. The boy’s eyes were unfocused and lulling and for the next while he laid completely still simply breathing in and out slowly replenishing his brain and organs with their needed oxygen. Névé gave a sigh of relief when she saw him, she had just gotten very close to having been too late to even spare him.

After a few moments a sudden liveliness struck the boy as if he had just awoken from a half-coma of sorts. His eyes turned sharp and stared at Névé with a barely contained rage “You… dirty… water…bug. I’ll… kill you.” His threats barely registered to her as he was still fully immobilized by his earthen coffin. She pondered releasing him, but she still planned on relaxing here for a while longer and he was clearly going to resume his attack the second he was released; rather, she chose that it would be best to just ignore the boy and resume her planned activities as if he wasn’t even there. Névé walked over back towards where she had left her half concocted medicine and returned to tending to her wounds now with the added task of making some soothing ointments for her burns.

The boy took a few moments to fully reclaim his consciousness before returning to his verbal assault. “Hey, don’t ignore me! Do you know who I am, do you know who you picked a fight with? I’m Scoria Cinder, that’s right THE Cinder, as in prince of the sodality of cinder! You’re just a dirty pathetic commoner, there’s no one to protect you, when I’m free I’m going to-“

Névé readjusted the mud so that it covered the boy’s mouth but left his nose free to breathe; she relinquished her water once more and let out a soothing sigh of relaxation. Névé couldn’t kill him but she didn’t have to listen to him either. His voice had been reduced to a quiet muffle and he soon gave up on cursing her. A few hours passed with her peacefully treating her wounds, read a book she had brought, and at one point when wanting a brief respite from studying even tried her hand at braiding the boy’s dirtied hair. His hair wasn’t quite long enough for her to do it properly, but she found the exercise strangely relaxing anyways, especially so when the boy gave no resistance to the act, perhaps he had finally accepted his fate, or perhaps he thought that if he kept quiet she wouldn’t notice his subtle attempts at escape.

Névé was fully aware of his attempts of course but she felt no need to intercept as he could barely light a fire in his tightly packed underground prison. Besides, she found studying him and how he toyed with his fire very informative in understanding the function of her enemies’ weapon.

Finally, after having recovered enough Névé wanted to practice her water control for a while. It didn’t take long before she dried out her current supply of water and so she had to steal some more from her surrounding landscape. The sudden shift in barometric pressure caused the small earthen bridge that clasped Scoria’s mouth shut to crumble. To Névé’s surprise, besides a lot of sputtering and spitting to gag the dirt out of his mouth he didn’t immediately break into a series of yells and curses. She practiced in silence until eventually Scoria asked. “How’d you get those injuries?”

Névé remained focused on her practice replying to Scoria without even sparing him a glance. “Punishment.”

“Well that’s what you get for trying to murder someone in the middle of the festival.” Scoria weakly held back his bitter hatred, he knew if he got too heated, she would just bury his mouth again.

“I didn’t kill him, I was just making a decisive victory. I wasn’t expecting him to be so incapable.”

Scoria scoffed at Névé’s arrogance, even if it was founded. “Well, Sinecure is a spoiled brat. His parents practically bought his position into the tournament. This doesn’t change that you’re a water bug but maybe I did attack you too hastily. Even I sometimes hurt people more than I mean to when I don’t realize how much weaker kids my age are.” The two stood in silence for a while, Scoria was expecting some kind of equal apology or reach for amenity, but it never came.

Scoria’s brows furrowed and he had to restrain himself from yelling against this insult. “Here I am trying to do the noble thing and make amends and you just give me the cold shoulder. I don’t know if all you water bugs are like this or if it’s just because you’re a commoner, but you should fix that rotten attitude.” Once again Névé simply ignored the boy, Scoria saw her silence as an arrogant declaration of superiority and disrespect against the cinder royal line, but the truth was that Névé wasn’t used to speaking with other children and didn’t know how to reciprocate his feelings. Scoria gave out an annoyed grunt and spoke again but this time with a determined assurance. “I heard that they are going to move you up to the youth bracket next year which means you won’t be fighting against some childish losers anymore you’ll be fighting against me. I don’t plan on giving up my trophy especially to a water bug let alone to a kid so I’ll make sure to beat you senseless and wipe that annoying haughty attitude out of yours while I’m at it.”

Névé turned to the boy buried to his shoulders underground and simply raised a single questioning eyebrow in response.

Scoria walked through the bush letting out an annoyed grunt at the countless thorns poking into him reaching the open clearing. Once again Névé had been there first and she was ready with a long whip of water for him. As soon as Scoria took sight of her, he immediately threw his hands in the air. “Hey relax. I told you this yesterday and the day before and I’ll tell you again, I’m not here to beat you up, I want to save that joy for when we face each other in the finals.”

Névé’s blank expression cracked for the first time since she could remember letting out a small chuckle. “You mean you didn’t come here to get beat up.”

Scoria grunted at her obvious goading. “I’m totally different than last year, and unlike you probably still drinking your mom’s milk I hit puberty!” Scoria declared proudly with a voice crack to match.

She had hoped that this year she wouldn’t have to deal with Scoria constantly interrupting her private relaxations in the Ersatz garden but just like last year as soon as Scoria discovered when she visited the garden, he was there every day to greet her. She would have simply come at a different time if she could, but her schedule had been heavily organized and regimented ever since her debut battle. Ever since the royal family had realized how talented she was at fighting her only respites were during tournament days. Where most other people found tournaments times of stress, to her it was a time where she could finally relax and rest her sore muscles. Plus, the children she fought in the tournaments were nothing compared to the sparring partners that the royal family put her up against.

Scoria sat at the opposite end of the clearing keeping his distance from Névé. She had once asked Scoria last year if instead he could just come to this special spot at a different time but it appeared he was in very similar straights to her as he too was tightly confined in his schedule. With such, the two had come to a sort of amnesty last year. They would both share this clearing as an escape from the bothersome responsibilities awaiting them outside and they wouldn’t bother each other. It was that last part of their truce that Scoria really struggled with. “They haven’t announced it yet, but Bennu told me that you, Firn, and I are going to be risen to the young adult bracket for next year’s elemental festival. People are calling the three of us the prodigy trio!” Névé pulled her eyes away from her book and glowered at Scoria. “You heard me right, Bennu the Phoenix grand wizard of the Murrugan squad talks to me. He was actually training me all this year, so you better rethink that annoying arrogance of yours. What you saw in my previous battles was nothing. I’ve kept all of my secret techniques for my battle with you.”

Névé rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I don’t care about that. I thought a part of this garden peace treaty deal was that we don’t talk to each other.”

“oh.”

A lustrous arras of mingling waters billowed out of the empty air. The open field was bathed in shadow as this titanic monument towered over it. The still floating water drew through space a gallant battle wherein a robust army trampled over the fleeing cowards making up their opposers. This complex canvas spanned longer than the average building and the many spells and trees depicted in the scene made it just as tall. Colored dyes swam through an interweaving system of underwater currents breathing a vibrant chroma into the scene. The heroic victors of the battle wore sky blue garbs, their skin full of life, while a stark brown ball of liquid circled in their eyes. The fallen enemies had a series of red and orange dyes flowing through their robes and their colored dyes were much more muted and weaker than those of the offenders.

While the undercurrent was knotted in a convoluted web of rushing dyes the surface of the mosaic stayed completely still. So far, the dyes have had yet to reach the very top of the display leaving the overhanging spells and trees in the plain blues of pure water. Some eager dyes made their way towards the colorless region, but the growing current underneath forced the surface of the shape to wiggle ever so slightly.

“Stop!” The aggravated shout of an elderly woman called the erasure of the grandiose sculpture. Within seconds the entire mass of water evaporated filling the field with a dense humidity that left everyone and everything around moist with thick dew. “How many times must we redo this simple scene? I tell you again and again that when you adjust your conjurations to only move within localized areas within. If you just force your power through it will destabilize the entire creation! If I hadn’t said stop would you have kept pushing until you collapsed the spell and flooded the entire town?”

The elderly woman dragged her rugged fingers through her now damp gray hair letting out a tired sigh. “No ma’am” The soft apathetic voice of a young child rang back. She was a small thing, her skin colorful and cheeks full for she was not malnourished or unhealthy by any means, her heredity was simply of a littler frame. She was short even for her young age of six and her arms were so thin one would not be blamed for thinking they could be blown apart by the wind. The girl just as her instructor, was dressed in the usual training garb of those from the sodality of rain; it was a light dress that covered the entire body made of blue hydrophobic fibers so that the dew formed from constantly dissipating spells would just roll off the clothes.

“Keep your position in mind Névé, just because you are going to be betrothed to master Firn doesn’t change anything yet. You are a commoner; a tool of the sodality and tools have no room for arrogance nor complacency.”

The young girl stood perfectly still not letting any emotion show on her body. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good, now we will be departing for Proselyte early in the morning tomorrow and the Rain royalty want you in top shape for it; with that in mind I have been told to only train you for eight hours today. Your training tomorrow will also be delayed until after we arrive in Proselyte, so enjoy the rest while you can Névé.”

Névé simply replied with her usual indifferent tone. “Yes ma’am”

Strangely enough Névé found herself actually anticipating Scoria’s intrudings into her hiding spot in the garden this year. Even as a child of the enemy she felt a kinship with him, two prodigies seeking refuge away from their expectations in this little garden. He showed up every other day of the festival, but it looked like he wasn’t coming today.

She could understand why, in two days she was going to have her first duel of the year with him; or she would of if he had won his duel earlier this morning, but he didn’t. This year, the two of them along with her fiancé master Firn were taking part in the young adult bracket of the elemental tournament. Master Firn and Scoria were both battling a whole age group higher than themselves and Névé was fighting two age groups higher. It was the first time in the entire festivals history that there were three children advanced a stage let alone one of the children being advanced two stages: and it was clear why this state was unprecedented. Their opponents were all between nineteen to twenty-four and they dominated over the children in terms of pure physical strength. They all also had far more experience and practice making even Névé struggle to keep her lead at the top of the leaderboard. Firn had already been knocked out of the tournament which she knew would only increase his acrimonious jealousy of her, and Scoria was only two more losses away from being knocked out himself.

Though the damage had already been done to Scoria, he would now have to win every game from hence forth to face her in the finals which everyone was now fully aware would not happen.

The elemental festival of 3991 was finally over and Névé would be going back to the sodality of rain later that day. The last few days of the festival had been miserable. Since the young adult bracket had concluded she was forced to recommence her usual training, while master Firn refused to speak to her in his childish disdain towards her and throughout all of this she never saw Scoria once after his loss. After that first day of not going to the garden, Scoria lost his next two fights and was knocked out of the tournament ending in seventh place. Still much more impressive than master Firn’s fifteenth but Névé knew that Scoria probably wasn’t taking the failure well.

She made one last visit to their garden clearing. She didn’t know why, nor did she know when she started calling it their clearing, but she did. When she arrived, she was surprised to see Scoria already there. From what she heard; he had left the day prior… not that she was paying any attention to what he was doing or anything.

“Névé!” He shouted excitedly quickly standing up before catching himself and clearing his voice. “Névé.” He repeated much more sternly. She didn’t know why but the scene caused a warm smirk to color her face. She quickly hid the smirk crossing her arms and doing her best to give Scoria a look of disapproval. She still hadn’t quite gotten used to the whole expressing thing but since being betrothed to master Firn she was being well trained for noble etiquette which helped a lot.

“I’m sorry for just ghosting you like that, I just felt embarrassed I guess.” Scoria’s eyes remained low and he scratched the back of his neck as if he had lost the words he had clearly prepared for this encounter. “Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that next year it will be different. I’m going to train harder than I ever have before and I’ll finally get my revenge. Just you wait so I can beat you up. I’ll beat you so hard you’ll completely forget about Firn!”

“What does master Firn have to do with anything?” Névé tilted her head unsure of what Scoria was trying to say but even without understanding it, it still gave her a strange comfort. She noted in her mind that she would have to practice harder at her noble etiquette to understand.

The river, an enormous biome deeper than the tallest castles containing a complex ecosystem unparalleled in diversity. Its elaborate intricacy cannot be appreciated by the simple sways of its surface. Underneath that dark mirror an unimaginably deep history was unfolding. Life and death, birth and growth. Thousands of species colliding in millions of interactions: food, sleep, exploration, love, friendship, rivalry, war, all to never be seen by humanity. Well save for Névé who stood at the center of the river where the water became inexplicably still.

Névé spat out a viscous pool of blood. Her mind wavered in and out of consciousness. She could feel the universe below her feet. She felt every part of it, her eyes and heart were everywhere and everyone at once. The sorrow and joy, the good and bad. To this world she was mother and reaper, she was GOD. Matron of reality, though she was still imperfect. She could feel the power rip away at herself. Her body was decomposing squeezing out every drop of energy within. Her muscles were atrophied, body trembling, mouth parched and eyes teary.

It was physically painful to maintain her territory but this more so than any other training she had ever done could actually be considered fun. Above all, the massive scale of the training gave her plenty of space to discretely practice her secret skill. With time she became disconnected with her sodality, there was once a time where perhaps she would have wanted to share the discovery of her secret skill with the sodality as soon as she made it, but now the discoveries were hers and it belonged to no others. No one, not even Firn had even a glimmer of hope of obtaining it. She planned to secretly train her skill and unveil it at the upcoming elemental festive to show Scoria. She didn’t know why he was the first person she wanted to show her secret. Perhaps it was the similarity she felt with him, the two outcasts that stood above the masses. They were deities over the inept.

“Enough.” Finally given the words of relief she released the river and within seconds it completely evaporated away forming clouds and floating away offward across the continent. In its place she saw an endless rain of sea life from horizon to horizon, the residents of her domain abandoned under a single order. She watched as the pilgrims found her world, she watched as they settled and grew, families formed so intimately to her heart and yet she so casually casted them away.

Névé assured to have the water below her and her instructor relinquish slowly so that they both landed on the ground that hid impossibly far down softly. “Only two months, your progress has slowed.” The elderly instructor couldn’t contain their disappointment and Névé’s face refused to return any sense of apology or reaction at all. Internally she was ecstatic. During her first attempt at creating a river ecosystem she wasn’t practicing her secret skill. The fact that she managed to improve both skills simultaneously was an undoubted accomplishment. Besides, she had far given up on any possibility of actually pleasing her instructor, it was clear that more was always expected of Névé regardless of her results.

Névé collapsed to the ground her pain only obscured by her satisfaction. Not even her instructors next words could discourage her. “You’ll have one days rest then try again.”

A tree exploded sending splintered shrapnel in every direction. Névé stormed through the Ersatz garden furiously destroying any foliage that dared obstruct her way towards her clearing. And it was her clearing! She wasn’t concerned about Scoria tainting her private spot as she ensured in their fight earlier that day that he would not be moving around again for a long, long, time. His performance was so pitiful compared to hers it was aggravating. She felt betrayed, he was so weak it wasn’t even worth showing him her secret skill. She lashed out again with a heavy gust of water that burst out of the ground dragging a bristling bush aside and opening her path to the clearing where a woman waited.

Névé had never seen anyone like her before, the woman was entirely bathed in white. Her long white hair fell from an equally white wide brimmed hat that appeared ludicrously tall. The woman’s skin too was a perfect snow just as her clothes. The only splash of color on her was her one revolting clouded red eye unfocused on any sights around her. Névé could only give out an internal sigh of thanks that the woman’s other eye was hidden under a white eyepatch.

The woman’s inhumanly long ears twitched at the sound of Névé’s stomping feet and she turned to the child. “Disappointed by your toy?”

The very mention of Scoria sent another seething rage through Névé. “He lied to me! We were supposed to be the same, we were supposed to be rivals!”

The woman waved Névé closer with her strange impossibly long fingered hand. “You are special Névé, you won’t find anyone else with your talent; at least, not around here.”

“HE was supposed to have that talent! HE abandoned me! I thought he was different, but he was just like the rest of them. He’s just as stupid and weak as the rest of them!” At this point Névé’s rage had boiled to the point that tears were streaming down her face. The white woman took Névé into her arms giving the child a long embrace.

The white woman spoke in a still calm voice. “I heard that you have been barred from the elemental festival, you are too powerful for the young adult bracket, but they refuse to enter a seven-year-old into the main bracket.”

Névé shook her head burying it into the white woman’s embrace. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the elemental festival or the sodality of rain or the sodality of cinder or Scoria. I don’t care about any of them. Their obsession with fighting each other is stupid, and their training is stupid and it’s all so stupid!”

The white woman stroked Névé’s hair gently allowing the girl a moment to cry. “Well, if you have no reason to stay then why don’t you just leave?” Névé pulled her head away from the woman and stared up in confusion towards the white woman. “You are special Névé, but you are not the only special person out there. I can take you somewhere where we are all special and together, we are going to change the world. The sodalities won’t have to fight each other, and you won’t have to be so different from everyone.”

A faint hope of optimism sparked in Névé‘s throat and she managed to hiccough a question in between her tears. “Really?”

The white woman knelt down to be face to face with Névé, though the woman’s clouded eye seemed unsure of where exactly Névé was and failed to make proper eye contact; Névé found herself actually thankful of that fact. The woman brought Névé back into another hug and Névé just then realized that she had no idea that hugs could feel so warm and comforting. She had only ever seen hugs from afar enacted between two foreign characters. Névé in turn took the white woman in a hug and hoped dearly that she could keep having these for a long time to come. The white woman spoke. “Really. Just you wait my little Névé, in eight years’ time during the grand centennial Tournament we will take all of this bad and hate and cast it away.”

Névé wiped her eyes countless times trying to wash them clear enough so that she could properly see her savior. “Who are you?”

The white woman smiled at Névé “I am the white witch.”