Quinn looked at Drakion, whose body was cradled in flas. The others were confused about where the fla had co from, but Kaidros and Quinn watched in stunned silence. As for Blaze—when Drakion’s body released that fla, he heard a Draconic roar. Instinctively, he sat cross-legged as a fla burst forth from him. Blaze found himself sinking into deep comprehension.
This shocked Quinn, for he could see that Drakion’s comprehension of the Fla Law was influencing Blaze. He didn’t know what Blaze would gain from it, but he knew—whatever it was—it would be enormous.
In the outside world, confusion reigned as dark clouds appeared, covering the entirety of the Origin Continent. This wasn’t the first ti. It was the second.
A golden eye erged, scanning the hook and crane of Originat—matter, creatures, everything. Yet it couldn’t find what it was looking for. It peered deep into the Bestial Forest, into hidden ruins... but missed a golden-black palace standing alone in a fold of space.
It sensed a presence. A presence not of this world. It felt as though another realm was being born. The aura it radiated was ancient and primitive—the essence of Law itself. A Law only the Heavenly Dao should ever comprehend.
That made it furious. Though it couldn’t locate the one responsible, it knew—they were here. Sowhere in this world.
Quinn looked up, feeling the second arrival of the Origin Heavenly Dao. It had co before—when Drakion first comprehended the Thunder Law. He hadn’t thought much of it then. But now? Seeing its return, he understood. This wasn’t ordinary. Drakion’s comprehension of Law had shaken the Heavenly Dao itself.
anwhile...
Drakion opened his eyes. Flas danced within them—but they were serene, calm, peaceful.
Ding!
[Host has comprehended the Fire Law]
Drakion raised his right hand, gazing at the bundle of red fire that flickered in his palm. In his left hand was a bolt of golden lightning—thunderous and unseen, yet undeniably felt.
"What cute little children," Drakion whispered, surprised to find he could sense life within them. He didn’t know why, but he felt an overwhelming sense of love and kinship with the two elents.
The bundle of red fla moved first, vanishing—only to reappear atop Drakion’s small head, bouncing and twirling with joy. The golden lightning crackled in protest, not wanting to be left behind. It bolted, appearing beside the red fla.
Both fla and lightning looked as though they were about to clash—but Drakion quickly cald them.
"You guys should go back."
The fla danced. The lightning crackled. Then, they both vanished.
Inside Drakion’s Origin Nexus, the fla and lightning floated in silence. They had returned ho, and he could feel them—now asleep.
Drakion smiled. Even he was surprised by all this. Yet for so reason, he felt no caution or fear. He knew—they were a part of him.
He turned his gaze to the fla world around him, where fire burned endlessly across every plane of sight. And yet, he felt comforted—at peace. The flas pulsed with joy.
He reached out, touched the fire, and smiled.
In the next mont, he vanished.
\\\
Drakion found himself in water. When he saw this, he was shocked. He tried his best to swim upward, and through the shimring surface, he could see the sun in the sky. He quickly swam toward it.
But when he broke the surface, when his head pierced the veil between below and above—
He saw darkness.
Darkness so deep, so absolute, that chills raced down his spine. His instincts seized control, dragging his body back into the water’s embrace.
Drakion looked around at the water that surrounded him. No... from what he saw, this wasn’t re water. This was a world—a realm sculpted entirely from water itself. And that revelation stunned him.
Water... was a world of its own.
Drakion thought of the Fire World.
Then he sat cross-legged, unmoving—his body still, his thoughts anchored.
Ti passed.
No voice.
No ripple.
No change in temperature.
And yet—sothing within him shifted.
Not sharply.
Not suddenly.
But like a tide pulled by a moon he could not see—subtle, irresistible, ancient.
Then it ca.
Not like lightning, which strikes.
Not like fire, which consus.
Not like thunder, which declares.
Water... arrived.
Not as an elent—
But as a presence.
It was not calm.
It was not rage.
It was motion.
Eternal. Unyielding. Without form, yet never formless.
Where fire transford, water rembered.
Every tear shed.
Every river carved.
Every drop that fell—and rose again—
It held them all.
Not in pride.
Not in sorrow.
But in continuity.
Water did not break things to change them.
It waited.
It flowed.
It wore them down with patience deeper than stone could endure.
And in that flow... was sothing sacred.
A vow:
That no matter how hard, how high, how vast—
All things would be shaped, softened, and carried.
Not through strength.
But through persistence.
Drakion felt it now—
Not as a storm,
But as a still lake.
Clear. Reflective. Infinite.
In its silence, water spoke—
Not in words,
But in the mory of everything it had ever touched.
Mountains. Skies. Ash. Bone. Blood. Birth.
It did not discriminate.
It did not cling.
It took—
And gave back.
Always.
Drakion closed his eyes.
He felt his Originat hum with a new rhythm.
No burning pulse.
No thunderous crash.
Just a soft, ceaseless movent...
Like a heartbeat in the ocean’s depths.
Water was not the opposite of fla.
It was the witness.
To both rise and ruin.
The one that saw kingdoms fall beneath waves—
And gently washed the bones afterward.
It was not cold.
It was not kind.
It was necessary.
It did not destroy to rule.
It eroded—to reveal.
It didn’t need to strike.
It didn’t need to announce.
It simply remained.
And in its stillness...
It reshaped the world.
Bit by bit.
Drop by drop.
Until even mountains wept into its basin.
Drakion exhaled slowly.
No power surged.
No storm answered.
Only stillness—
And beneath that stillness... depth.
Depth that could drown empires.
Depth that could cradle life.
Depth that never ended.
And he understood:
Water does not fight.
It returns.
It does not conquer.
It waits.
It does not forgive.
It accepts.
And in its acceptance—
Nothing escapes it.
He opened his palm.
No wave ford.
But within him, the ocean stirred.
Vast. Endless. Alive.
And with it, the Law of Water...
flowed.
Not mastered.
Not chained.
Only understood.
A/N: Well, if I’ve successfully confused you, send your support, power stones, and gifts.
Also, the behavior of the Fla and Thunder—if you can draw the correlation to what they resemble (I’ve ntioned the creatures they behave like in the novel)—the reward awaits. Perhaps... the right to na a Progenitor Hair. It’s open to everyone.
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