The inner courtyard of the Twilight Sanctum was silent—until the fountain's water began to churn.
The midnight stone basin erupted. Water spiraled upward in a violent twist, crystalline night-blooming flowers shuddering from the force. The air crackled with raw elemental power as the water took shape, solidified, became flesh.
Dew rose from the fountain's center like a king claiming his throne.
Water streamed off his body in rivulets, scales glinting along his neck, arms, and collarbone—iridescent blues and silvers that caught the starlight and reflected it back tenfold. His eyes were the deep azure of ocean trenches.
He stepped onto the obsidian tiles, barefoot, dripping.
And the water around him began to weave.
Droplets lifted from his skin, hovering in the air before solidifying into fabric. A high-collared sleeveless coat materialized first—dark blue, almost black, structured but flowing, the collar framing his jaw.
