The Three Gifts (Part 1)

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom that ruled over all the lands—everywhere the light touched and the deepest trenches that had never known the sun's glow. The ruler of this empire was King Elirex Humantor Vesperian. War after war, he fought until the lands bent to his will, under his rule human civilization flourished. Fields swayed golden in the breeze, streets thrummed with invention, and laughter echoed through the markets, yet, the rivers that fed this prosperity ran a crimson red.

Even with all of his success Elirex was a man whose eyes lifted beyond the mortal realm, he scoured ancient texts and questioned sages, seeking whispers of the outer realms. Something greater, something eternal, until, one day, the answer came to him.

The Dragon King, Malacar Divinarius *, the first and only since the dawn of creation.

"Pause, pause, pause."

Stella's voice cuts through the tale. She leans forward, brows knitted.

"Two things. 'Dragon King?'" Her words drip with skepticism. "And you said something I didn't catch. Can you repeat that?"

Theo's face remains still, unreadable. "Do you want me to finish the story or not?"

"But—"

"Do you?" His tone sharpens.

Stella's jaw tenses, her protest falters. "Continue."

Theo nods, his voice resuming its steady rhythm.

Malacar descended from the skies, the air itself trembling beneath him. Below, Elirex's empire sprawled—fertile fields, towering walls, banners snapping proudly in the breeze. The human realm had indeed thrived. Yet Malacar's gaze lingered not on the kingdom's strength, but on its ambition.

Disguised as an old man, he wandered through the streets, listening.

"The king seeks the mystical," whispered merchants, her wares gleaming under the sun.

"Something grander," murmured servants who cleaned the castle halls.

Malacar's lips curled, Father loves games, let's give him a show.

In the months that followed, the dragon moved like smoke through the city, his name swelling in the whispers of the people. A sage, a prophet, a man who glimpsed beyond the veil. When the king heard the rumors, curiosity stirred, servants were sent to witness the miracles and they returned with awe clinging to her words.

At last, Elirex summoned him.

And when Malacar stood before the human king, the air thickened. The dragon's eyes narrowed. Unlike the countless mortals he had seen, this one held something rare.

'He's Blessed.'

"Sorry, I have to pause again."

Stella's voice wavers, though curiosity sharpens her gaze.

"Blessed? I keep hearing this, but I never understand what it means."

Theo's eyes lock onto hers, unblinking. "Do you believe in luck?"

She opens her mouth, then pauses. Her thoughts churn. Finally, she answers, "I think our choices ripple out, affecting others in ways we can't always see. But I wouldn't call that luck."

A smile tugs a the coner of Theo's face. "Cause and effect, you're not wrong, but what if something could shift that ripple? Protect some from the worst outcomes, or magnify the good? That's what it means to be Blessed."

He leans forward. "Elirex should have faced devastation for the blood he spilled. Yet time and time again, the storms broke around him. Compare him to other rulers, and you'll see it. Only a few in history—Genghis Khan, Emperor Taizong—held that kind of fortune. The world bent for them, grnatged they weren't blessed so you can only imagine the way the world would bend for him."

Rachel huffs. "For someone who knows so much, why are you even in this school? Shouldn't you have some grand mission?"

Theo's gaze shifts, unreadable. "I'm exactly where I'm meant to be. What about you?"

She stiffens. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Amelia gave you that card yesterday. You could've gone to the location, but instead, you waited. You showed Stella first. Was it curiosity? Or did you need to convince yourself it wasn't real?"

Rachel's mouth opens, but no words come.

Theo's voice drops. "Stop pretending. You know there's more to this world. But crossing that line? It terrifies you."

"STOP!" Stella's voice cuts through the tension.

Theo scoffs. The air thickens, a pulse of bloodlust that sinks into her chests. Rachel's breath quickens, her hands trembling. Stella clenches her fists, holding her ground, though her pulse pounds in her ears.

Theo's voice hardens. "You think you understand, but you don't. You will kill. Not just because they threaten you, but because they'll stand in your way. The resurgence is coming. I'll protect my people. Will you?"

And then—just as swiftly as it came—the weight lifts. The girls gasp for air, clutching her chests.

Theo's expression is impassive. "I've said my piece. I'll finish my story by the end of the month. Come to the Tower if you want the rest."

He turns and walks away, the crowd swallowing him whole.

Rachel's voice trembles with outrage. "What's his deal? I just asked a question."

Stella's eyes remain on the spot where Theo disappeared. "You struck a nerve. Imagine training your entire life without knowing why, only to find out from us. And now? He knows the clock is ticking."

Rachel's jaw clenches. "Still, he didn't have to lash out like that. And what is the Tower?"

"Maybe the location on the card." Stella's voice is flat.

Rachel stares at the address. The weight of choice settles on her.

"This is yours to face," Stella says. "I've got my own training. Walk this road alone."

Rachel slumps. "Why did everything have to get so complicated?"

"Better than staying in class."

"You can say that again."

They laugh, the sound thin and fleeting. Neither realizes that today will be the last time they see each other for a while.