Under the light of the moon, Princess Myora of the Azure Depths stood at the edge of the cliff, where the waters of her domain lapped against the sands below. The salt-laden breeze carried the scent of impending rain—an ill omen on a night meant for peace talks.
Behind her, the keepers of the four elemental domains waited in uneasy silence, each surrounded by their warriors, each with hands resting on weapons. The tension in the air was as tangible as the mist rising from the sea.
Myora's companions—Talore of the Ember Isles and Marun of the Whispering Peak—stood at her sides, completing the triangle. Like her, they bore the Trifold Seal, three marks forming an inverted triangle upon their skin. Like her, they had spent years struggling to maintain the balance as the Veil weakened.
"They will not listen," Talore whispered, his fingers tracing the mark on his forearm. "Even now, with shadows spilling into our world, they prepare for war instead of unity."
For seven days, representatives had gathered at her father's request, supposedly to renew ancient bonds. Those from coastal villages paid respect to both Myora's father and the Earth Keeper, bringing offerings appropriate to each. Inland settlements sent emissaries carrying tokens of flame, water, and air—acknowledging the influence all domains held over their lands.
What had started as a peaceful meeting to renew old friendships between domains had turned into something else entirely. Now villages and settlements that had always paid respect to multiple domain rulers were openly picking sides. One day, a village chief would bow deeply to the Water Keeper and bring rich gifts; the next day, seeing which way the wind was blowing, that same chief would stand closer to the Fire Lord during ceremonies, ignoring his previous loyalties.
Everyone watched to see which domain seemed strongest at any given moment, then rushed to stand with that power. A shift of balance in the mandala.
But now her father is gone. The news had reached her only hours before, carried by a breathless messenger who had slipped past the guards. The Water Keeper, her beloved father, had been found dead in his pavilion, a kris dagger with a wavy blade buried in his heart.
A dagger that belonged to Prince Kairen—her betrothed.
Myora closed her eyes against the pain of this betrayal. The engagement had been her father's attempt at creating a new center of power, with their union as its heart. She had agreed to it reluctantly, putting duty above her own desires.
"The guards are searching for Prince Kairen now," Marun said softly. "But the sacred boundaries have been compromised. Many believe this disrupts the entire order."
Myora turned to look at the gathering. Village headmen who had always navigated the complex web of tribute and protection stood huddled together, uncertain where their loyalties should now lie. The Ember Isles delegation stood apart, their ceremonial flames burning brighter than custom allowed.
"We must leave," Talore urged. "When they learn what has happened—"
"Princess Myora!" The shout came from behind them, cutting through the murmurs of the assembled representatives.
She turned to see Prince Kairen pushing his way through the crowd, his robes emblazoned with golden symbols, his face contorted with a mixture of grief and rage. In his hand glinted another kris dagger, twin to the one found in her father's heart.
"Your father murdered mine!" Kairen's voice cracked with emotion. "Three years ago, during the ceremony of the sacred waters. I have proof now—the confession of his own ritual advisor, given before witnesses!"
Whispers erupted among the gathered representatives, many subtly shifting their positions to stand closer to Kairen—a visible realignment of power.
Myora's mind reeled. Her father, a murderer? It couldn't be true. Yet the pain in Kairen's eyes seemed too raw, too genuine to be feigned.
"Kairen," she began, stepping toward him cautiously, "whatever happened between our fathers, this breaks the sacred balance—"
"I played the dutiful suitor," he cut her off, advancing steadily. "I performed the rituals of courtship while my father lay cold in his grave. And when I had gained his trust, when the moment was right, my father's spirit guided my hand." His knuckles whitened around the hilt of his dagger.
"The Water Keeper is dead?" gasped a village chief who had previously sent offerings to both domains.
"By my hand," Kairen declared, stopping only a few paces from Myora. "The center shifts. The Azure Depths no longer hold the power."
Talore and Marun moved to flank Myora protectively, their hands going to their weapons. The three marks they each bore began to glow faintly with power.
"Your vengeance is satisfied," Myora said, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within her. "The balance can be restored through ritual, not more bloodshed."
"It cannot be restored while you live," Kairen replied, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her ears. "You are your father's daughter, and the power you carry threatens the new order. The Azure Depths must fall."
He lunged suddenly, kris dagger aimed at her heart. Talore shouted a warning, but Myora was already moving, years of training taking over as she sidestepped the attack. The blade missed her heart but caught her arm, drawing a line of crimson against her pale skin.
Chaos erupted around them. Warriors from each domain drew weapons. Village representatives who had always paid tribute to multiple powers found themselves forced to choose sides, their decisions based on which flame burns brightest in the moment.
Talore engaged Prince Kairen directly, his sword meeting the prince's dagger with a shower of sparks.
"Myora, run!" Marun called, deflecting a blow meant for her.
But there was nowhere to run. The cliff edge was at her back, the raging sea far below. Ahead, the path back to safety was blocked by clashing warriors.
Prince Kairen broke away from Talore, blood streaming from a cut above his eye. With a roar of fury, he charged at Myora again, kris dagger raised.
Time seemed to slow. Myora saw the trajectory of the blade, knew she couldn't evade it fully. She saw Talore and Marun fighting desperately to reach her, the marks on their skin blazing with light as they channeled their power.
And she felt something else—a presence beyond the Veil, something ancient and hungry that fed on their discord, that grew stronger with each drop of blood spilled in hatred.
Something malevolent is watching, waiting for the Veil to tear completely.
In that moment of clarity, Myora made her choice.
As Kairen's dagger thrust toward her, she stepped backward—not away from the blade, but over the edge of the cliff. The dagger caught her as she fell, plunging into her side. The last thing she saw was Kairen's face, transforming from triumph to horror as he realized what she had done.
"MYORA!" The anguished cries of Talore and Marun faded as she plummeted, replaced by the rush of wind and then the crash of waves.
On the cliff above, the fighting had stopped, shock replacing fury as news of what had happened spread through the gathering.
"The Princess is gone," someone whispered. "The mandala is broken."