Streets of Ravetham

As Kaelen made his way toward the entrance of the Black Fang, the familiar sight of his grandmother standing with imperious grace made his heart sink. Matron Zelyndra Nyxaris, the indomitable queen of the Drow, stood with the air of a monarch surveying her kingdom. Her dark violet robes, embroidered with silver spiderwebs, glistened under the morning sun, catching the light in an otherworldly shimmer. Her piercing violet eyes were cold as they rested on the figure kneeling before her: Loren.

Loren, ever loyal, wore her signature maid outfit—a crisp black and white uniform with lace-trimmed cuffs and apron, the bow at her back immaculate as always. Yet, despite the neatness of her appearance, she seemed fragile, trembling ever so slightly under the weight of the Drow matriarch's gaze. Her long, blond hair fell forward, obscuring her face, but Kaelen could still see her hands clutching the hem of her skirt tightly, knuckles white.

Aelira, standing beside Zelyndra, was the picture of nobility—her black hair cascading down her back in long, thick waves, stark against the deep violet of her luxurious gown. Her violet eyes gleamed with superiority as she looked down at Loren, her lips twisted in contempt. The contrast between Loren’s simple maid uniform and Aelira’s extravagant attire was stark, as if they stood in completely different worlds.

Kunai and Trap Icy were nowhere to be seen, most likely at Shadow Sweets, leaving Loren to face Zelyndra’s full wrath alone.

Kaelen’s first instinct was to turn around and avoid the inevitable clash with his grandmother, but the sight of Loren—his Loren—being humiliated on her knees stopped him cold. He clenched his fists, took a breath, and stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension in the air like a blade.

“Grandma, stop bullying Loren. Seriously, why do you hate her so much?”

Zelyndra turned slowly, her gaze hardening as it landed on him. Her scowl deepened. “The Dawns and our family have been mortal enemies since time immemorial,” she hissed, her voice a chilling whisper that carried power. “No matter how outcast and disowned this one may be, a Dawn is still a Dawn. And it is my duty as queen to remind them of their place.” She emphasized each word with a cold, dismissive flick of her fingers, her disdain flaring.

Kaelen sighed internally. It was always about bloodlines with his grandmother. Always a matter of ancient feuds and family honor. He could feel the weight of her words press down on him, as if a century of conflict was being shoved onto his shoulders. Feeling as though fifty years had just been drained from his life, he crossed the short distance to Loren and gently offered her his hand. Her trembling fingers slid into his, and he pulled her to her feet, giving her a reassuring nod.

Before Kaelen could speak, Aelira cut in, her tone dripping with venom. “See, Matriarch? I told you this vixen has already tainted your grandson. He’s spoiled goods now and not worthy to be my fiancé.” Her violet eyes glinted maliciously as she glanced at Kaelen, daring him to contradict her.

Kaelen couldn’t help but smirk at her words. He had never wanted to be anyone’s fiancé, especially not hers. If Aelira was calling off their engagement, that was fine by him. But he knew his grandmother wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“Stop being such a peasant, Aelira,” Zelyndra snapped, her voice sharp. “Noble up. If you can’t have my grandson’s heart, then be content with his body. The Underdark has no room for failures.”

Kaelen opened his mouth to protest, to tell his grandmother that he wasn’t a prize to be fought over, but before he could get a word out, Seraphis—who had been standing silently beside him—did something completely unexpected.

She leaned in and kissed him.

Her lips were warm, and the bond between them flared with an intense surge of heat and energy. The taste of fire lingered as she pulled away, her red eyes glowing fiercely. Her long pink hair fluttered in the breeze, the light catching on the scales that lined her cheeks.

“My bonded belongs to me,” Seraphis declared, her voice a low growl that rumbled with draconic authority. “And only princesses are welcome to join.”

Kaelen was left speechless, the lingering warmth of her kiss still on his lips. He blinked, trying to process what had just happened. His grandmother, rarely caught off guard, seemed genuinely surprised for a fleeting moment, before regaining her composure. To Kaelen’s astonishment, Zelyndra inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“As you wish, mighty dragon,” she said, her tone measured, her words holding a subtle edge of respect. Then she turned to Aelira. “Come. We have no more business here.”

Aelira looked like she wanted to argue, but she swallowed her pride and followed after the Matriarch, her violet eyes still flashing with anger. The security detail swiftly escorted them away from the entrance to the Black Fang, leaving Kaelen, Loren, and Seraphis in a strange silence. Pedestrians on the street had paused to watch the exchange, whispering among themselves.

“You okay?” Kaelen asked Loren softly, his hand still on her arm.

Loren nodded, though she was still visibly shaken. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered, straightening her apron and avoiding his gaze.

Meanwhile, far across town in the shadows of a dimly lit room, Delphinus stood beside Cygnus and Thaige—Kaelen’s half-sister, her presence shrouded in the darkness. Thaige’s form was tall, her skin pale and flawless, with dark hair cascading down her back. Her eyes, once a soft green, now gleamed with the bloodlust of a predator. She was no longer simply Kaelen’s sister—she was a creature of darkness, resurrected by Delphinus with a twisted purpose.

Thaige knelt before them, her lips stained crimson with Patch’s blood. The lifeless body of the fallen comrade lay crumpled in the corner, drained and discarded. Cygnus, still in her swan form, looked far from the radiant being she had once been. Her once-white feathers had dulled to a sickly gray, her wings limp and ragged. The artifact she had used had sapped her of nearly all her mana, and now she was suffering, her form dimmed to a shadow of its former glory. But Delphinus paid her no mind.

“You’ve fed well, Thaige,” Delphinus said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he stepped closer to her. “Now it’s time to take the next step.”

Thaige licked the blood from her lips and grinned, her sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. “What would you have me do?” she asked, her voice low and sinister.

Delphinus smiled—a dark, twisted grin that promised ruin. “You’re going to ruin Kaelen’s reputation. Shift into him.”

Thaige’s grin widened, her body already beginning to shift. Her skin rippled, her features melting away, only to reform into a perfect replica of Kaelen. Where his sister had stood, now there was an exact mirror of Kaelen—down to the white hair and violet eyes.

“And then what?” she asked, her voice now identical to his.

Delphinus's eyes gleamed. “Then, you’ll walk through the streets naked, holding a sign that says, ‘I’ll do anything for drugs.’”

Cygnus, now barely able to lift her head, gave a weak glance toward Delphinus but said nothing. She simply watched, her hollow eyes betraying no emotion as Delphinus sealed Kaelen’s fate.

Thaige, in her new form, smirked and turned toward the door. “Let’s have some fun,” she said, her tone playful as she stepped out ready to carry out Delphinus’s malevolent plan.