But the weight crashed back, a brutal reminder. The relief was fleeting. Maybe it's too dangerous, I thought, my heart clenching. I looked at Nael. He stared back, expressionless, as if danger were a mere footnote.
I was lost in my thoughts when his voice tore through the stillness.
— "Want to explore these lands with me?"
I blinked, caught off guard. It was almost light, almost human. My chest flared with sudden excitement.
— "Yes!" — I answered, too quickly, a smile slipping free.
He didn't smile back. Just gave a slight nod, as if he'd known my answer all along. But there was something there—a spark, faint but real. And beneath that crushing weight, I felt we stood on the edge of something vast. Something that could shatter us—or make us whole.
He raised a hand, a simple gesture, and the world held its breath. Something immense tore across the horizon—not fast, but with a deliberate slowness that sank into my bones. The dragon emerged, an eastern titan, wingless, graceless. Pure power incarnate, its skin a black so deep it devoured light, flecked with scales that sparked like dying embers. Its head alone was a hundred-meter monstrosity, a guardian that dwarfed the sky.
Its maw parted, and no roar came—just a low rumble, like a storm brewing far off. White teeth, sharp as daggers, gleamed in the dimness. It drew near, and the air turned to frost, clinging to my skin. Each breath it exhaled was a cold warning, a mist of menace. Without a second thought, I clambered onto its head, my trembling fingers grazing a rough, almost living surface. I was nothing here—a speck scaling a god.
Beside me, Nael stood still. His eyes, hard as flint, locked onto the dragon without a flicker.
— "He knows we're here." — he said, his voice soft, nearly lost to the wind. No awe, just a chilling calm, as if he and this beast were carved from the same quiet stone.
The dragon needed no wings. With a flick of its tail—light yet devastating—it wrenched us from the ground. The wind slammed into me like a fist, and my weary body fought to stay upright. The pressure was a phantom hand, squeezing the air from my lungs. I can't take this, I thought, teeth gritted, but there was no choice but to endure.
Then, the world unfolded before us. Rivers streamed far below, their milky-white surfaces gleaming with a restless vitality. Up close, they revealed their true nature—crystalline, with an illusion of green shimmering beneath, golden waves rippling across them like a living dance. This wasn't mere water; it was something more, something that pulsed with an otherworldly heartbeat. Towering trees stretched upward, their branches - branches woven together like hands cradling the sky. From their limbs dangled fruits: some plump and luminous as moons, others gnarled and strange, daring the eye to linger. Silence held court here, yet the beauty roared in its stillness.
The clouds snatched the breath from my lungs. They weren't clouds at all—more like vivid slashes of color, bold strokes of paint bleeding into the sky. No sun crowned the horizon; instead, a gentle glow set the reds, blues, and golds ablaze in a restless waltz. It was stunning, but not innocent. Something ancient lurked within, murmuring secrets I wasn't sure I wanted to unravel.
I drew a deep breath, and the air reshaped me. Thick and stubborn, it resisted at first, but once it flooded my lungs, it sparked something alive in my chest—both icy and searing, a paradox that jolted me awake, more alive than I'd ever been. — "Incredible…" — I murmured, the word slipping out unbidden.
Nael didn't glance my way. His gaze stayed locked on the horizon, sharp as a blade, dissecting every detail. — "Have you ever felt anything like this?" — I asked, fishing for a crack in his armor.
— "Yes." — His reply was clipped, as if anything more wasn't worth the breath.
The dragon carved through the heavens, each sweep of its wings a heavy, flawless rhythm. It braced us against a force swelling up from the earth, a pressure that sank into my bones. My skin prickled, my muscles howled—this place wanted to shatter me, to remind me of my smallness. But Nael? He belonged to it. Shoulders loose, face calm as still water. — "This place…" — he said, his voice a near-whisper — "is more than you understand."
I peered downward, and my heart stuttered. Mountains loomed like toppled titans, their peaks swallowed by forests so thick they devoured the light. Between the trees, chaos unfurled. Beasts collided—not for hunger or terror, but for something rawer, more primal. A lizard, its scales jagged as a crocodile's, sank its fangs into a Komodo dragon twice its size. They thrashed, tore, bled—each blow a blind surge of instinct, a force that didn't reason, only razed.
The air quaked with their snarls, sending a shiver racing down my spine. — "Will they die like this?" — I asked, my voice cracking.
— "Maybe." — Nael shrugged, his eyes still pinned to the fray. — "Or maybe it's just what they are."
Even those fierce creatures seemed trivial here. This world's weight crushed them as it crushed me. Even a god would buckle here, I thought, my chest tightening. Nael stayed silent, but I knew he felt it too. The difference was, he wasn't afraid.
— "What is this?" — My voice quivered, torn between dread and a fierce, burning curiosity, as if I were teetering on the edge of an endless drop. The air buzzed around us, thick and heavy, thrumming with a power I couldn't name.
— "Chaos." — Nael's eyes met mine at last. A flicker danced in them—reverence tangled with something guarded—but it vanished, smothered by the icy shield he wore so well. — "Here, there are no rules. The world is still raw, unshaped. What you see… it's the beginning of everything. Pure. Untouched. And us? We're just shadows drifting through something we'll never hold."
A chill sliced through me, but it wasn't the cold. It was older, wilder, more alive. Time bent here, past and future twirling together, cocooning me in a present that stretched on forever. I, a simple cultivator, felt dwarfed by it—yet ravenous, too. Fear didn't fuel me. It was a savage hunger to comprehend, to swallow every shard of this enigma.
— "Are you ready to face what comes next?" — His voice pierced the quiet, dry and unyielding, but weighted with something that made me tremble.
I locked eyes with him, my pulse hammering unevenly. For the first time, I saw past the now—into something vast, something that could unravel me and stitch me back anew. Beneath the dragon's keen stare and the burden pressing down on my shoulders, I understood: I was about to cross a threshold with no way back. Nael didn't smile. He didn't have to. The silence between us spoke louder than words.
The flight stretched on, wind lashing at our skin, until the dragon dipped toward a place plucked straight from a dream. A waterfall hid there, coy and delicate, nestled between mountains that rose like sentinels of black stone. The river it birthed was broad, snaking through the earth like a vein alive with purpose, its waters—green and blue—glinting with a pulse of light. Fish darted between rocks, their scales flashing like rainbow splinters caught in the depths.
The mountains around us stood dark, draped in forests so dense they seemed to breathe secrets. The air carried the scent of moss and eternity—a peace that settled into my bones, yet a strength that set my skin tingling. I brushed the waterfall's icy stream with my fingertips. It flowed through me—raw yet tender, an embrace I hadn't seen coming. Powerful, yes, but kind. It didn't wound me. It held me.
On impulse, I stepped forward and leapt into the shallow lake below. The water swallowed me whole, cold and vibrant, rinsing away the exhaustion, the heaviness, all of it. A laugh bubbled up, sharp and childlike, and I turned to Nael. He lingered on the shore, watching me with that look—like someone who'd seen the world crumble and shrugged it off. — "Come!" — I called, stretching out a hand, my smile more taunt than welcome.
He wavered, then let me pull him in. The moment his feet hit the water, the air thickened, the place's energy bending around him as if sizing him up. But Nael? Not a flicker. No frown, no breath of surprise—just that frozen mask he called a face. It grated on me—how could anyone stand so untouched amid something so alive?
— "Do you feel this?" — I asked, my voice soft, nearly lost to the waterfall's hum.
He didn't answer. His eyes, cold as the mountain rock, studied me in silence. But I knew. Deep down, he felt it. He always did. He just never let it show.
Drenched, his clothes clinging to him, Nael was impossible to ignore. His white hair, long and wavy, shimmered under the sunlight slicing through the canopy. His dark skin, smooth as polished stone, seemed to defy touch. And those lips—full, rosy, a quiet vow I wasn't sure I dared to decipher. Something simmered in him, dangerous and still, like a beast that didn't need to growl to command fear.
All at once, the space between us shrank. The air grew dense, electric, pressing against my skin, my chest, every breath. He can't be real, I thought, my heart thundering. Yet there he stood, so near, so far. The water's chill couldn't explain the heat climbing through me—a pull I refused to name.
— "Why are you like this?" — The words tumbled out before I could catch them. Not a jab, but a plea.
He tilted his head just a fraction, eyes piercing mine. — "Like what?" — His voice was a low murmur, edged like a knife.
— "Cold. Untouchable. As if nothing reaches you." — My voice shook, but I held my ground.
For a heartbeat, something flickered across him—a shadow, a whisper of something beyond indifference. Then it was gone. — "Not everything needs to be felt to be real," — he said, turning to the waterfall as if it might answer for him.
I stood there, feet rooted in the water, heart squeezed tight. He was a riddle, a peak I ached to scale, though I knew it'd break me before I reached the top. Still, I couldn't tear my eyes away.
The air hung heavy, almost solid, pregnant with what loomed ahead. I stepped closer—tentative, yet sure—the cold earth beneath my feet clashing with the fire in my chest. My hand stretched out, unsteady, and grazed his arm. It sparked. His skin, cool at first, hid a warmth that thrummed, tugging at me like a current. I didn't want to stop. I couldn't.
Nael stood motionless, a figure of frost and mystery. His eyes—always sharp, always distant—met mine, but there was no pushback. Something else lingered there. Curiosity? A dare? — "What are you doing?" — His voice was hushed, a breath that shivered through me. Not a scolding. An invitation, veiled, bait he knew I'd take.
He already knows, I thought, blood pounding in my ears. It stung. It ignited me. Wordless, I closed the gap, the distance dissolving like mist. His warmth wrapped around me, defying the cold water lapping at our skin. It was too much, too fierce—as if he were the axis, and I, a fleeting speck circling him.
Then it happened. In a rush, I claimed the first kiss. Soft, almost shy, but brimming with a need I couldn't cage. My lips met his, and the world fell still. Nael didn't pull away. Didn't fight. He gave in, slow, like tasting a bittersweet poison. His flavor hit me—warm honey laced with something feral, sharp, like fruit from untrodden wilds. It hooked me. I sank into it, into the softness that bent to meet me.
Our tongues danced—tentative, then bold, sketching unseen paths, probing limits. His hands traced my frame, deliberate, unhurried, as if charting a map only he could see. No rush, just a steady calm that left me reeling, craving more. The water pulsed around us, icy against our skin, yet powerless to douse the blaze between us.
Time melted away. All that remained was this: searing kisses, frigid water, a rhythm with no name. He was everywhere—in the air I gasped, the shake of my hands, the hollows that filled with each touch.
But then a roar split the silence. Deep, primal, a thunder trapped in a throat. The dragon. That massive she-beast glared at us, eyes alight with a jealousy that thickened the air. She reared up, scales glinting like knives in the faint light, and loosed another cry—louder, possessive. As if she bellowed, He's mine. My chest seized.
She's jealous, I thought, pulse racing. Her stare cut through me, heavy with spite and rage. Nael, ever cool, caught it first. — "Climb onto the dragon's back," — he said, voice firm, flat, but laced with a command I couldn't defy.
I broke from the kiss, reluctant, my body still trembling with heat. The dragon rumbled, a low growl of displeasure, but dipped low for us to climb aboard. I settled onto her rough scales, the raw strength humming beneath me, and Nael slid in behind—so close his warmth still brushed me. We didn't touch, but he was there, a promise woven into the stillness.
Quiet returned, but the air thrummed, alive with something unnamed. I glanced at him. Those unreadable eyes pinned me, steady yet smoldering with a fire that prickled my skin. He said nothing. He didn't need to. I knew: this wasn't the end. It was the dawn of something vast, a path fate had already carved for us.