Married

The bowl beneath her palm was filled with a thick layer of ice, an ethereal contrast to the dagger clenched in her hand. With a determined thrust, the blade pierced her skin, and she felt the warmth of her own blood trickling onto the icy surface below. As the crimson droplets met the frozen water, an intense reaction ensued, the blood hissing and sizzling as it mingled with the frigid element. Within moments, the ice melted away, swallowed by the fervent heat of her essence, and the metal bowl containing the mixture began to glow a fiery red, as though forged in the heart of a blazing furnace.

Azorius's eyes twitched at the sight, a subtle indication of his discomfort with the ancient ritual unfolding before him. In Solyria, such ceremonies were steeped in tradition, a testament to the deep-seated beliefs of the people. Mixing the blood of the two parties as to make the pact more strong and unbreakable. But never had they seen blood react to water in such a violent manner as Noori's did, or was it because she belonged to the fire nation, destined to happen.

Soon, a man sped forward, close to the bowl in which the water had almost evaporated because of the heat of Noori's blood. He watched the blood bubble in the bowl over the redness of the metal and gulped nervously before pouring a bowl of blood into it from another vessel. Noori found it strange; she was the only one drawing fresh blood while the other party was absent, and his blood was being poured by someone else. 

Bishop rushed to Noori, wrapping her palm in a bandage to stop the bleeding and covering it with cloth urgently. As the man poured the red blood into the bowl, the two liquids met, and the bowl instantly cooled down, the bloods crawling into each other and merging.

"The ceremony is complete," the man announced. Noori, who had endured several rituals in the span of two hours, felt as though it had been an eternity. The pace of the normal world felt sluggish compared to the battlefield, where things happened swiftly, even death. The crowd rose and applauded, their cheers sounding forced, fabricated, driven by fear rather than genuine joy.

Noori's gaze swept across the hall, catching the disgusted expression on the face of the woman seated beside the king, likely his wife. Noori understood the reasons behind that expression, but unlike the king, who concealed his emotions well, she didn't mind. Perhaps a mother's heart differed from that of a father's. Noori's lip curled slightly as she locked eyes with Fleur, giving her a knowing look.

"Princess!" Wave's voice broke through her thoughts, and Noori turned to her, noting the newfound calmness in her demeanor. 

"Yes?" Noori responded, her confusion evident.

"You need to return to the palace now," Wave said, smiling. 

"Already?" Noori glanced at Bishop, who shared her uncertainty. "Aren't we supposed to be meeting with people now? Wasn't this ceremony too rushed? What about the agreement?" she questioned, feeling the unwelcome atmosphere lingering around them.

"Everything will be taken care of in the morning," Wave reassured her, leading her towards the door, where everyone seemed eager for them to depart. Noori couldn't shake off the feeling of being unwelcome, a sensation that gnawed at her as they left the hall.

And just like before, Noori was escorted back to the palace, but this time Wave led her in a different direction and stopped in front of an entirely different room.

"Have a great night. May you have a long and happy life together," Wave said, smiling as she pushed the door of the room open, allowing Noori to enter. She then stepped out, closing the door behind her. Noori stood before the closed door, her expression puzzled.

"What was she talking about? Is there another language barrier?" Noori asked herself, confused. She lazily turned around, taking in the grandeur of the room before her. Slowly, she lifted her bandaged hand, the bleeding having stopped. She pulled her glove back on and approached the mirror, wanting to catch a glimpse of herself once more.

As Noori stood before the mirror, the soft glow of the room's lights casting a gentle radiance upon her, she couldn't help but admire the reflection before her. The image staring back appeared radiant and beautiful, a brief moment of solace amidst the chaos that surrounded her.

But as her gaze drifted across the room, her attention was drawn to something else, something that shattered the fragile tranquillity of the moment. There, lying silently in the bed, was a man. His form lay still, a mysterious presence amidst the opulent surroundings. SHe sucked in her breath, a very rare occurrence for Noori to be caught by surprise but she was. .

A moment of genuine blankness overtook her mind until the words Wave had uttered earlier resurfaced, piecing together the puzzle in her mind. Shock coursed through her, her wide-open eyes gleaming with a light, her iris shone with disbelief as a tear rolled down her cheek. 

"No!" Her voice cracked as she felt weakness in her legs, reaching out to grasp the wooden table behind her for support. "NO!!" Her voice roared, shattering the once serene atmosphere of the room. With a surge of raw power, a shockwave of fiery energy burst forth from Noori's core, pulsating outward in a tumultuous wave. The windows shattered into tiny splinters and the door bursts open. 

As though ignited by the fury of a thousand suns, the wooden furnishings exploded into flames, splintering and crackling in the searing heat. The floor beneath her feet erupted into a blazing cascade, tendrils of fire greedily snaking across the chamber, seeking out fresh fuel to consume.

The walls quivered in fear as the flames spread with an unrelenting ferocity, casting the room in a kaleidoscope of red and orange hues. Windows shattered, showering the space with glittering shards of glass, while the force of Noori's wrath unleashed a torrent of destruction.

Amidst the raging inferno, Noori stood, her eyes ablaze with the same fire that devoured everything around her. Her gaze still on the man laying in between the flames as the room burned to crisp.