Yao Yao didn't register the cold at first.
She had half-fainted somewhere between the second crash of blades and the pressure building in her ears. Her limbs had gone numb, and her breathing shallow, as if her mind had drifted outside her body. It was strangely peaceful, like the way snowfall sometimes muffles the world, almost as if she were dozing off inside a blizzard while somewhere far away, there was the sharp crack of ice colliding with flame.
Her body twitched once. The world lurched back into focus just as something bright caught her eye, silver-blue and far too close. Her eyes widened, blinking frantically as the ice dagger hovered inches from her brow, frost biting at her skin. The Spirit King's fingers were still hooked at her collar, his gaze locked on Kaireth. But her body…the way he had turned her—
Had Kaireth's aim slipped? Or had the Spirit King angled her into the dagger's path on purpose?
Her jaw clenched, heat rising until her vision burned.
"What is wrong with you two?!" she exploded. "You're throwing weapons while I was half-unconscious?! Have you both lost your minds?!"
The dagger still hovered in the air, glittering inches from her face. She glared at it, then snapped, "And you put that murder weapon down right this instant before I lose the rest of my sanity!"
Kaireth's hands lowered slightly, the frost at his fingertips fading.
Yao Yao's finger shot up at Kaireth, still trembling. "You… you were all white and soft and good-looking and fluffy and peaceful like some snow prince and then SUDDENLY you're throwing icicles everywhere like an emotionally repressed porcupine!"
She sucked in a breath, her words tumbling out even faster. "Are you even sure you're a wolf?! Aren't you supposed to be my spirit?! Were you trying to kill me? What is wrong with you? Do you have spike-loss issues?!"
Kaireth's brow tightened, a faint crease forming as if he couldn't quite decide whether it was an insult.
Yao Yao snapped her head to the Spirit King. "And you!" Her voice cracked higher, angrier. "You're like a walking arsenal with anger issues, setting everything on fire just because you're unhappy! What are you?! A toddler?! Do you have communication issues? You know, you've got the temperament of a five-year-old when I AM THE FIVE-YEAR-OLD HERE!"
Her legs kicked furiously, still dangling in the air. "You put me down right now! I am not your laundry sack!"
The Spirit King's gaze narrowed. His expression didn't shift as he opened his hand and let go.
"Pff—ack!"
Her palms hit the ground, wet and filthy from scorched grass and torn earth. The sting shot up her arms as dirt smeared across her skin. She winced, pushing herself upright on shaky elbows.
When she finally lifted her head, the place came into view. It was a disaster. Grass lay burned in jagged streaks, stones split down their faces, the ground torn open in uneven gouges. One tree leaned to the side, its trunk bent like a broken spine.
Her brows drew tight, cheeks flushed red with fury. She staggered to her feet and flung her arms wide, voice breaking as she shouted, "This was a nice place! It was beautiful and it was green! It even had butterflies!"
She stabbed an accusing finger at the wreckage, stomping her foot hard. "And now it's charred!"
She turned back on them, breath ragged. "I don't even know what you're fighting over! You just started hurling elements like a pair of emotionally unstable weather gods!"
Her arms flailed again, sharp and wild. "You need anger management! Therapy! A non-violent communication workshop!"
The Spirit King raised his hand, as if about to speak.
Yao Yao whipped around, quick as a snap. "Don't you dare!"
He paused. Then lowered it.
Good.
She spun on her heel and stomped away, mud streaking her sleeves. "I'm finding another spirit," she muttered. "Something sane. Like a mushroom. Or a frog. Or someone with emotional stability and a vegan personality."
Yao Yao didn't look back. Her steps were quick and uneven, half-tripping over rocks and roots as she stormed out of the ruined grove. Her arms still shook, her clothes still damp. She just needed to get away. From the yelling. From the heat. From the mess she hadn't signed up for but somehow kept getting dropped into.
***
The forest beyond was darker than she expected. Trees towered overhead, thick and winding, their crowns woven so tightly that almost no light slipped through. Below, everything was damp and dim. The air smelled of rain and roots, sharp and earthy.
She kept her head low as she walked. Time blurred. She couldn't tell how long had passed, only that the trees began to thin, their shadows breaking as the ground softened into a downward slope.
From somewhere ahead came the sound of water.
Yao Yao lifted her head, curiosity guiding her steps as she followed it.
Mist drifted in from the edges, curling low across the grass. The path opened onto a quiet and strangely still lakeshore, its glassy, smooth surface reflecting the light that managed to pierce through the trees. Reeds lined the side, their silver tips glowing faintly.
Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees and plunged both hands into the water. The cold bit deep into her skin. She scrubbed her hands quickly, removing the mud and ash, then splashed water up her arms, soaking her sleeves and ruined skirt.
Soot smudged her cheeks, and dirt clung to her jaw. Her braid had slipped half undone, strands falling loose around eyes rimmed red. She stared at herself in the water longer than she intended before dipping her hand back in and washing one side of her face, then the other.
She sniffed once, pressing her sleeve against her cheek. She could no longer tell if the wetness running down was just lake water or her own tears. Anger still burned in her chest, but beneath it lay a deeper ache she hated more. It was the ache of being lost, of not knowing what was happening or how she was supposed to navigate this new life.
A part of her still wanted the old one back—the boring, predictable one where at least she knew what her next step was.
She blinked away the tears, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. For a moment, all she felt was a sharp ache of longing to be back by her brother's side, to return to something familiar, to be anywhere but here. That was when she noticed it—a soft ripple on the surface of the lake.
At first, she thought she was imagining it. But then the water shifted again, the circle spreading wider this time.
Yao Yao went still, her breath caught.
The lake stirred, as though something underneath had begun to move.
She leaned back warily, wiping the last of the tears from her cheek with her hands. Yet the ripple lingered. The mist clung to the water's surface, heavy and unwilling to lift.
Then something jumped.
It shot out of the lake in a clean arc, long and slick, resembling an eel but not quite. Its body stretched the length of an adult's arm, dark and glistening with an oily sheen. There was no sound as it cut through the air before plunging back into the water with a sharp splash, the impact heavier than it looked, almost meaty.
Yao Yao jerked back. There was no mouth. No eyes. Only pale skin that caught the light with a faint blue glint and a thin ridge tracing down the creature's spine. Her heart raced as cold prickles ran along her spine.
The water hissed. A thin current skimmed across the lake's surface, and before she could even register it, the air snapped past her hand, sending a jolt of heat shooting up her wrist.
"Ah—!"
Instinct kicked in. She tried to pull back, but her foot sank into the mud and slipped out from under her. Her back hit the ground with a dull thud, and she scrambled, her palms digging into the dirt as she pushed herself away.
Then another creature jumped.
It matched the first in size, the same strange eel-like shape. It twisted once in the air before vanishing back into the lake with a splash.
The static burst again, sharper than before, and the hairs on her arms rose stiff with the charge.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Yao Yao's eyes widened as more shapes broke the surface, one after another. Dozens of them leapt and dove in tight arcs. The splashes came fast, one after the next, water crashing and hissing with every jump.
The lake's surface shimmered with every landing. Suddenly, a flicker appeared. Thin blue lines of current danced across the water. Electricity wove through the ripples—gentle at first, then intensifying, crackling across the surface like veins beneath glass. Each time an eel struck the water, the current surged stronger.
The air buzzed in her ears and swept across her arms. A sharp pulse rippled outward, popping close to her boot and making her ankle jerk back. Panic shot through her and she scrambled higher up the bank, her hands slipping on the wet grass.
The light from the lake was glowing now, shifting from white to blue and humming softly like a wire under strain. Every splash sent out another pulse, and every hiss seemed to grow closer. The sounds no longer came just from the lake. They echoed strangely, bouncing through the trees, the rhythm warped until it felt like there were more of them than she could count.
And then she saw it along the bank. A single arc of electricity crawled out of the water, reaching toward the land. It glowed faintly as it slithered into the grass. A spark snapped and leaped, vanishing before reappearing farther up the bank, as if pulling itself forward.
It was extending itself.
Yao Yao's breath hitched as her hands curled into her sleeves.
Then a voice spoke.
"If I were you, I would stay away from the lake."
Her head snapped up.
A fox sat perched on a mossy log a few feet away, higher on the slope. Its fur should have been red, yet in the dim light it looked washed to pale orange. Three tails curled neatly behind it, with one flicking lazily, while its expression was pure boredom.
Yao Yao blinked hard, still half-dazed. "Did… you just say something?"
The fox tilted its head, ears twitching once, as if that was a foolish question.
Behind her, the splashing grew louder. She turned back toward the lake, heart skipping. When she looked again, the fox hadn't moved, still lounging on the log with an air of utter indifference.
"Come up here," it said lazily, curling one tail in a beckon.
"The current doesn't reach this far."