I Chose This Path, Now the Universe Will Know My Name

The wind smelled different.

Fresher. Wilder. Like the kind of air no human lungs were ever meant to breathe.

I stood at the edge of a cliff high in the Spring quadrant, overlooking an endless cascade of emerald trees, blooming hills, and rivers that shimmered with glowing pollen. The sunlight bent in strange ways here—warmer, yet ancient. As if the world itself was watching me now.

No. Recognizing me.

My skin, once dark brown, now shimmered faintly under the sunlight—pearlescent-white, like storm-forged marble with a glint of something cosmic just beneath. My eyes mirrored the sky: silver, but flecked with every color imaginable. And my hair…

It flowed like starlight. Silver with strands that caught hints of crimson, sapphire, emerald—ever-shifting.

I hadn't spoken in hours.

Not out of exhaustion.

Out of… clarity.

For the first time in my life, I wasn't just reacting to the world.

I stood above it.

Behind me, I could hear Freya pacing. Her boots crunched softly against the mossy ground, the quiet rustle of her leather jacket brushing against her hip.

"Alright, Dragonboy," she muttered. "You've been staring off into the void for three hours now. Either have an existential crisis or snap out of it."

I didn't respond.

Not yet.

Lyssira, ever patient, was seated nearby on a small rock, humming softly. Her green hair fluttered with the wind. She didn't pressure me. She understood more than anyone—because she felt it.

Something had changed.

Something big.

It wasn't just power.

It was presence.

I wasn't just Zavier King anymore.

I was something more.

I turned, slowly, gaze steady as I studied them both. I didn't say anything at first—not because I didn't want to—but because I no longer felt the need to fill silence with words. My thoughts were louder. Heavier. Clearer.

"I feel... different," I finally said. My voice was calm. Measured. Almost regal. "Not like myself. But not like a stranger either."

Freya raised a brow. "You sound like a monk who just discovered ego."

I met her gaze. "Maybe I did."

She blinked, taken slightly aback.

Lyssira smiled softly. "It's the dragon blood, isn't it?"

Seraphine approached then, her aura like moonlight draped in silk. Still radiant, still warm, but now with a distinct formality in her presence. She stopped in front of me and placed her hand gently on my shoulder.

"You've already begun to shift," she said proudly. "Soon, you'll feel the pull of instinct. Of legacy. Of pride. But before that…"

She leaned forward and whispered, almost like a secret between soul and sky.

"My full name is Seraphine Vel Drakaryn. And now, Zavier… so is yours."

I stared at her, unsure what to say.

"You've joined our bloodline," she said. "Our family. The essence blood I gave you wasn't just power. It was a bond. One that cannot be undone."

"Vel Drakaryn…" I echoed slowly, testing the sound of it. It rolled off my tongue like a roar held in reverence.

She nodded, her silver eyes glowing. "My brothers and sisters—the other dragons of the seasonal quadrants—they've been waiting. For centuries. And now that you're here… they'll want to meet you."

I swallowed hard. "And if they don't approve?"

Seraphine's lips curled into a soft, dangerous smile. "They will. Or they'll regret it."

Lyssira's eyes widened slightly. Freya actually chuckled.

Seraphine touched my chest. "You're one of us now. A hatchling of the Vel Drakaryn line."

I breathed in deeply.

The name felt heavy.

Ancient.

Right.

Lyssira stepped forward, grounding me once more. "You're still in there."

"I am," I replied. "But… I'm more than I was."

"You're Zavier," she said firmly. "That hasn't changed."

Her touch tempered the storm building inside me.

"Yes," I murmured. "But they'll all see it soon."

"See what?" she asked.

I looked back out over the world.

"That I was never meant to compete in this tournament."

A pause.

"I was meant to rule it."