Sand sculpture

I blinked, momentarily stunned by the words that had just left my mouth. Sand sculptures? Was I serious?

I, Princess Xyra, the embodiment of elegance and menace, had just proposed an activity suitable for toddlers.

The absurdity of it made my jaw tighten. But there was no turning back now not when Levan was already scrambling to gather buckets and spades like an overenthusiastic court jester.

"What a brilliant idea, Xyra," he chirped, as if this were a diplomatic breakthrough.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yes, brilliant," I muttered. "Because nothing screams royal sophistication like building sand castles."

Ren, of course, stood off to the side, her face as unreadable as ever. But there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement? Intrigue? No, that couldn't be right. She was probably mocking me internally, as usual.

Lucindra, on the other hand, was lounging nearby, sipping from a goblet of wine she'd somehow conjured, looking entirely too pleased with herself. She waved a dismissive hand in my direction. "Oh, do try to make yours at least moderately impressive, Princess. We wouldn't want the commoners laughing."

I ignored her, focusing instead on the pile of sand in front of me. Right, how hard could this be? A princess like me can surely conquer a mound of sand.

Levan plopped down beside me, armed with a bucket, a spade, and a level of enthusiasm that bordered on nauseating. "Don't worry, Xyra," he said, puffing out his chest. "I'll help you create something magnificent."

"Your help is neither wanted nor required," I snapped, but he was already digging furiously, sending sand flying in every direction.

Within moments, I was covered in a fine layer of grit, and my once-impeccable swimsuit was ruined.

"Levan!" I hissed, brushing sand off my legs.

"Sorry!" he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm just trying to—oops!"

The bucket tipped over, spilling wet sand onto my feet. I glared at him, wishing I had the power to turn people into statues. Well I could just froze him.

"This is a disaster," I muttered, looking at the sad little lump of sand we'd managed to create.

Meanwhile, Ren had crouched down a few feet away, her movements slow and deliberate.

She wasn't using a bucket or a spade just her hands, which worked with surprising precision. I frowned, trying to ignore the way her muscles flexed as she smoothed the sand.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

She glanced up, her expression calm. "Building a sand sculpture."

"Well, it doesn't look like much," I said, crossing my arms.

She didn't respond, simply returning to her work.

"Don't mind her," Levan said, shovelling another load of sand into our ever-growing disaster pile. "We'll show her what real art looks like, won't we, Xyra?"

I didn't dignify that with a response.

Time passed, and to my utter horror, Levan's attempts to "help" only made things worse. Our castle—or whatever it was supposed to be—looked like it had been constructed during a hurricane.

"Perfect," Levan said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"It's a pile of mud," I said flatly.

"No, no, it's abstract," he insisted.

I was about to deliver a scathing retort when I caught sight of Ren's sculpture.

It was stunning.

Somehow, in the same amount of time, she had created a masterpiece. It wasn't a castle, as I'd expected, but a beautifully detailed phoenix, its wings outstretched as if it were about to take flight.

The level of detail was extraordinary feathers etched with precision, eyes that seemed almost alive.

Why is she so good at everything?

"How…" I trailed off, genuinely speechless.

Ren stood, brushing sand off her hands. "It's nothing," she said, but her voice was softer than usual, almost shy.

Nothing? It was exquisite. Infuriatingly so.

Lucindra let out a low whistle. "Well, Ren, it seems you've outdone yourself. Again."

I glared at her. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

Lucindra smirked, clearly enjoying my irritation.

Levan, meanwhile, was staring at the phoenix with his mouth open. "How did you do that?" he asked, his tone filled with awe.

Ren shrugged. "Just practice."

Practice? She was lying, of course. Nobody could create something that perfect without some sort of divine intervention.

"Well, it's hardly fair," I said, trying to sound dismissive. "You've probably spent your entire life perfecting useless skills like this."

Ren's lips twitched, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But instead, she bowed her head slightly. "As you say, Princess."

The way she said it made my stomach twist.

Before I could analyse that unsettling feeling, a sudden commotion drew everyone's attention.

From the tree line at the edge of the beach, a group of masked figures emerged, armed with swords and crossbows.

"An attack!" Levan shouted, as if it wasn't obvious.

Panic erupted. Lucindra scrambled for cover, clutching her wine goblet like it was a lifeline. Levan grabbed a stick, as if that would somehow protect him.

I stood frozen, my mind racing.

"Princess, get behind me," Ren said sharply, stepping in front of me.

For the first time, I saw her mask of calm shatter. Her eyes burned with intensity, her posture rigid and ready for battle.

"Ren, what are you—"

Before I could finish, one of the attackers lunged. Ren moved faster than I thought possible, disarming him with a swift kick and sending him sprawling into the sand.

Then, it happened.

Her hands ignited, flames licking up her arms like living creatures. 

"What the—" Levan stammered, his eyes wide.

Ren didn't hesitate. She hurled a wave of fire at the attackers, forcing them to retreat. The heat was intense, but it didn't burn me. Instead, it felt like a protective barrier, shielding me from harm.

"Stay close," Ren said, her voice steady despite the chaos.

I obeyed, too stunned to argue.

One by one, the attackers fled, overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of Ren's power. Within moments, the beach was quiet again, save for the crackle of dying flames.

Ren turned to me, her eyes searching mine. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, unable to find my voice.

"Good," she said, exhaling deeply. The fire faded, leaving only a faint glow on her skin.

"What… what was that?" I finally managed to ask.

Ren didn't answer. Instead, she turned away, her shoulders tense.