Chapter 103: Valentine Special Chapter 9: Karen, the Herald of Benjamin—Tëhznarā, the Dragon Princess!

“You’ll be a god-touched in the new world of Elyndor,” the boy said quietly.

And around him the space there began to tear, slowly ripping off like wet paper, then with a sharp, scraping sound.

Violet light spilled from the space wound, dense and radiant, carrying the dim metallic scent of ozone and crushed stardust.

The boy said again, “Depending on how you perform, Namadris’s fate could be bleak.”

Then from the torn space stepped a small girl—

Her eyes were big and vividly violet, luminous even in the strange half-light. Twin silver braids hung down her back, gleaming like polished steel.

Nearly translucent butterfly wings extended behind her in measured, elegant beats, scattering faint prismatic motes that drifted like fireflies.

“Hey, Chröma! This better be good!” she whined, her voice high and musical, edged with playful indignation. “I was just about to harass Irina and her bratty daughter, Elara.”

Chröma rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, I need you to do me a favor.”

“How many favors is this now?”

“C’mon, you funky fairy, just help me out here!” He waved a hand toward Karen’s flickering form. “Take this soul and reincarnate her in the other world. But make sure that Elyndor does not find out, you hear?!”

“Now that I think about it…” The fairy tilted her head, her wings giving a relaxed and skeptical flutter. “Did Elyndor not put you to sleep? How are you here?”

“Ugh, I’m faking it,” Chröma said, rolling his eyes so dramatically the motion looked almost painful. “You know, Elyndor never gets my jokes.”

“You mean the inter-dimensional rule you’re currently breaking? That’s not actually a joke at all.”

Despite the back-and-forth between them, the fairy gave a small sigh;

“Fine! But honestly, just this once, okay? I am already a criminal in Elyndor, for devolving from a spirit to a fairy.”

Then she twisted her wrist with casual grace, as a ribbon of golden light spiraled out from her fingertips, wrapping Karen gently but firmly.

And in an instant Karen’s ghostly shape collapsed inward, her limbs, and memories, and determination, compressing into a small and radiant sphere of pure gold.

The orb vibrated a little, ardent but steady, then the fairy tucked it against her chest and stepped back through the tear. “See ya!”

And the rift snapped shut with a soft crack, leaving only Chröma, silence, and the lingering scent of incense and soot.

“Alright then!” Chröma stretched, looking around the place, “Let me pay Earth a visit, then go try and comfort Mrs. Steven and Alice. They must still be aching from their crazy mother/ daughter’s suicide. Ugh, he better compensates me for all this hard work, that Namadris… or should I call him Benjamin Mark, now?”

***

When Karen opened her eyes again, soft golden light poured over her from high arched windows. She lay in an ornate cradle carved from cordial, dark wood veined with threads of living gold.

The chamber around her was vast and regal; polished black marble floors reflecting candle-flame flickers, with towering pillars wrapped in climbing vines of ruby-red blossoms, and heavy wall-hangings depicting coiling dragons in flight.

The air carried the rich scent of incense and warmed stone, with a weak trace of brimstone.

“Ohhh!” someone cried excitedly from very close by. “The dragon princess has awoken!”

A burst of joyful voices followed, with some scaled hands clapping and tails thumped against the floor in delight. Some of them with wings rustled like silk in a breeze.

The tall double doors swung open with a deep groan, and several figures hurried inside, their eyes wide with relief and wonder as they gathered around the ornate cradle.

One woman stepped forward first, strikingly beautiful, with long, flowing hair the vivid red of fresh-spilled wine and two elegant golden horns curving gracefully from her head.

Tears shimmered on her lashes as she knelt, with her hands trembling slightly as they hovered above the infant.

“Thank the gods… She’s alright…” Her voice broke with emotion.

Then she glanced to her left. “Right, Seraphina? Her magic powers are leveling too. I don’t know why such a small baby’s magic energy suddenly rose like that.”

The woman beside her, called Seraphina, was almost painfully lovely in contrast:

Her pale golden hair falling in perfect waves, her skin was like polished ivory, and her eyes were like the deep, crystalline blue of mountain lakes.

However, she had no horns, or any visible wings, yet—unmistakably—there was an aura of discreet, primal power clinging to her like ice.

She studied the child with cool interest, then nodded.

“Any child of my brother’s would be powerful. But to think one almost died from said power…” A small and expressive smile curved her lips. “I shall happily take her under my wing, if you permit me, Marihuäth.”

“Ehhhh?” The red-haired woman, evidently the mother of the baby, whined in protest, her reptilian tail swaying in distress. “At least wait until she’s three years old! Tëhznarā would definitely be a powerful dragon among powerful dragons—I doubt she shall even need your—eep!”

The entire chamber went still as Marihuäth fearfully shrieked.

Why?

Because, a wave of pressure had rolled outward; overflowing and suffocating, and far too immense for something so small in a cradle.

Black smoke-like aura rose in gentle, coiling tendrils from the cradle, carrying the sharp jarring tang of blood and fury.

Every wing in the room flattened instinctively; and every face stilled or paled.

In the cradle, two tiny golden-red horns framed a small cute face, with those tiny fists clenched. And terrifyingly, inside that infant mind burned a single, relentless thought:

’Kill Seraphina, kill Seraphina, kill Seraphina, kill Seraphina, kill Seraphina—’

Seraphina, herself, met the baby’s glare without blinking. If anything, her smile widened in a gentle and delighted, nearly reverent manner.

“This one… has a lot of potential, Marihuäth,” she said softly. “I am definitely taking her as my disciple… next week.”

The murderous intent lingered in the air long after the visitors withdrew, hanging densely and heavy like smoke and dust over a battlefield.

***

In a few centuries to come, the eight celestial war would eventually erupt.

And suddenly one from the dragon clan would turn against their comrades, leaving the mortals to face the demons without the aid of the Star Dragon.

Countless lives would be lost, and certain individuals would push beyond the boundaries of their power, only to die anyway.

But, the souls and deaths blanketing the world would eventually feed into the reincarnation of a certain god-touched soul—five thousand years later.

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