“Zenhald, why are you just sitting there? Come on—we’ll show you the city!” Finnayn practically radiated energy, clearly deciding I was the best toy the current had washed up in the last hundred years.

  I stood up, stretching. “And how are we supposed to talk outside? Sure, I can hold my breath, but having polite conversations through bubbles doesn’t sound like a good time.”

  “Don’t worry!” Finnayn waved her hands, and a dense cocoon of air formed around me. “Now you don’t have to swim—you can just walk. The magic will follow you.”

  We stepped outside. First thing I did was send a flow of warm air inside the bubble to dry my clothes. I hate the feeling of wet fabric on skin.

  “Whoa!” Finnayn stared as the moisture evaporated. “You can control air too?”

  “Not bad, kid,” Arbir nodded with respect. “Most magic here is water and ice. Air is rarer.”

  They dragged me through their “sights.”

  “Over there, Zenhald—that’s our library!” Finnayn pointed proudly. “And that’s the magic school! And here—coral gardens!”

  I walked with the sourest face in the world.

  “Zenhald, you’re such a bore,” the princess complained, offended. “We rarely get guests—especially humans—and you just don’t care.”

  “You have no interest in our grandeur at all?” Arbir frowned.

  “I’ve seen cities bigger and taller,” I answered honestly.

  “Mmph…” Arbir thought for a second. “Oh! I know. Let’s go to the Coliseum. It’s the final today.”

  The Coliseum was impressive—half in water, half in air. We took seats on the “dry” edge of the stands. Thousands of Atlantean eyes fixed on me—the only surface creature in the hall.

  Two judges came out—one hovering in water, the other standing on land. They announced the start of the fight in two languages. Two powerful warriors with tridents entered the arena.

  “Is the trident your national weapon?” I asked Arbir.

  “Yes. A symbol of authority over currents.”

  The fight began. The arena filled with water, but our section stayed dry. Atlanteans moved fast; magic flared; steel struck…

  But honestly, after my training sessions with Riza, it was boring. Big swings. Too much theatrics.

  “Weak,” I muttered.

  Arbir snapped his head toward me, eyes narrowing. “Weak, you say? Want to go out there and show us how it’s done?”

  “Yes, Zenhald!” Finnayn chimed in. “Show a ‘master class’—that’s what you call it, right?”

  I sighed. “If you’ve got someone worthy, I’ll go.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Arbir rose sharply, the scales on his arms flashing dangerously. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Just not in the Coliseum,” I looked up at him. “I don’t want to embarrass the heir in front of his people. Awkward.”

  Arbir smirked, though sparks of anger danced in his eyes. “Confidence isn’t something you lack. Let’s go.”

  We went to a huge training hall in the palace. It was completely dry. Arbir shed extra armor and regripped his heavy trident.

  “Pick any weapon, Zenhald.”

  I just stood opposite him with my hands in my pockets. “I don’t need a weapon.”

  “Hah. You’re either an idiot—or you’re truly strong,” Arbir took a fighting stance.

  Finnayn drifted to my side. “My brother really is strong. Don’t underestimate him. Oh—” She froze, staring at my head. “Your hair… after drying, it’s so fluffy and airy. Like a cloud.”

  She couldn’t resist and reached out, touching my hair.

  I immediately melted. My body went soft, my eyes started closing on their own. I slowly sank toward the floor while Finnayn enthusiastically stroked my head.

  “Sister, stop defeating my opponent before the duel even starts!” Arbir yelled. “This is a duel!”

  “Oh, come on—look how cute he is when he’s not scowling,” Finnayn laughed.

  Reluctantly she pulled her hand away. I shook my head, dragging myself back to reality.

  “Time,” Arbir said seriously. “One, two, three… begin!”

  He launched forward at insane speed. The trident shot straight for my chest.

  I lazily snapped my fingers, and a slick layer of ice instantly bloomed under his feet. Arbir hopped, tucking in midair, and hurled his “fork” at me.

  “Got you,” I whispered.

  With a sharp gust of air, I caught him mid-flight and slammed him into the ceiling, holding him there for a couple seconds before letting him land gracefully. Arbir was breathing hard, his face flushed.

  “So you can’t do it without magic?” he snarled, surging at me again—using jets of water from his palms like a rocket engine.

  He threw the trident again—this time following it. I dodged the weapon as it whistled past, and simply stepped aside from Arbir himself. As he flew by, I formed a few droplets of water in the air and flicked them onto his back.

  The instant they touched his skin, I grinned.

  “Got you… heh-heh.”

  I crystallized the droplets instantly, multiplying their weight by hundreds. Arbir—unprepared for the sudden burden of what felt like an entire boulder—crashed to the floor. The trident clattered away.

  “You dropped your fork, heir,” I laughed.

  Furious, Arbir shattered the ice and lunged at me barehanded. I raised a thin shield of fire in front of myself. The prince skidded to a stop, barely avoiding the flame.

  “You— Fire in the water?! I mean… in the palace?!”

  “What, little fish afraid to touch fire?” I kept teasing.

  “Enough!” Finnayn clapped. “It’s obvious who won. Brother—cool off.”

  Arbir exhaled, shoulders dropping. “You’re right, sister. I lost control… Sorry, Zenhald. I didn’t expect that kind of control.”

  “It’s fine,” I gave him my most “arrogant” smile. “The weak can always be forgiven.”

  Arbir only shook his head, smiling back.

  Then Finnayn bounced over and started scratching behind my ear again. I began to slump, but she caught me easily, continuing the affection. The prince stepped closer and also carefully patted my head.

  “Interesting,” he murmured. “Those droplets… I didn’t expect that. I’ve never seen a technique like it.”

  I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it. Underwater kingdom, duels, Atlanteans… none of it mattered as long as someone scratched my hair that well.

  I lay there, practically purring, while Finnayn and Arbir methodically combed through my hair with their fingers. Bliss.

  And then silence shattered with a thunderous удар—someone slammed a palm into the stone wall with all their strength.

  “What’s this noise in the training hall?!” The voice vibrated with power. “I felt strength that could boil the ocean!”

  I cracked one eye open.

  In the doorway stood a mountain of muscle in scaled armor. Mana rolled off him heavy as the pressure at ten thousand meters deep.

  “Um… Father?” Finnayn spun around—yet didn’t remove her hand from my head. “This is Zenhald. We found him on the bottom. He’s alive.”

  King Atlant raised a thick brow, staring at me.

  “Arbir, was you who radiated such power?” Without waiting for an answer, he slapped his son on the shoulder so hard Arbir nearly sank into the floor. “I always knew a true titan was hidden in you!”

  “Sorry, Father… that wasn’t me,” Arbir rasped, catching his breath.