Sylvia entered the cool, stone-lined room, the air thick with tension. Lord Dune sat behind a sturdy sandstone desk, his presence as solid and unyielding as the desert itself.
In the chair facing Dune, sat Peggy.
Sylvia was surprised to see Peggy and she too was surprised to see Sylvia there.
They gave each other a friendly nod.
Dune's expression softened slightly when he saw Sylvia. "Princess Sylvia," he said, his voice like gravel. "It's been some time. It's an honour to have both Fairy and Nature tribe princess at the same time."
Sylvia smiled. "Lord Dune, I thought it was time for a friendly visit."
Peggy excitedly said. "It is getting livelier with you, Sylvia. We were already going to have the meeting, few moments back."
Dune motioned for Sylvia to sit, and one of his aides poured a glass of water for the Nature princess.
They exchanged formalities, discussing the recent struggles with Kairo, the joint effort with the Aqua tribe, and the reinforced patrols across the Sand districts.
"We're still hunting Kairo," Dune said firmly. "And the girl."
Sylvia kept her expression neutral, though she flinched inwardly at the way he dismissed Yuki - not by name, but simply as "the girl."
"I heard about the battle," Sylvia said carefully. "Three days of unrelenting combat. Kairo must be stronger than you thought."
Dune's jaw tightened. "He is. But strength without discipline is reckless. He will fall."
Peggy added, "Even his loyal soldiers abandoned him and now even the Aqua tribe has denounced him. He has nowhere to run. I somehow feel bad for him. But unfortunately, it was his own fault at the end."
Sylvia nodded in approval.
Dune didn't say a thing in response.
Outside the Office:
Meanwhile, Arson leaned against a wall, his hood drawn low over his face. His patience was running thin - he hated waiting, hated the heat of the desert that rivaled his own internal fire.
But then, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd.
A man, also cloaked in a hood, brushed past him. But something about his icy presence made the temperature around Arson drop ever so slightly.
Arson's sharp instincts flared. He grabbed the figure's arm, his grip firm but not openly aggressive. "You've got a nasty habit of lurking, Glacius."
The hooded figure paused, then pulled back his hood - revealing the sharp, frostbitten features of Prince Glacius of the Ice tribe.
His hair shimmered like icicles under the desert sun, and his pale blue eyes held a calm, calculating coldness.
"Arson," Glacius said smoothly, a thin smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I could say the same about you."
Their rivalry was well-known - fire and ice, two extremes forever at odds. Yet, at this moment, they were face-to-face, not as enemies on a battlefield, but as unexpected strangers in sand territory.
"What brings the Ice Prince to the Sand district?" Arson asked, voice low but dangerous. "Planning to freeze the desert?"
Glacius chuckled softly. "Not all of us solve problems by burning things down."
Arson's jaw clenched. "Careful, Glacius."
The ice prince tilted his head, his breath faintly visible in the heat - a subtle reminder of his frigid power. "Relax, Arson. I'm not here to conquer. I'm... observing."
Arson narrowed his eyes. "Observing what?"
"Perhaps the same thing you are," Glacius replied, a sly glint in his eyes. "The Sand tribe. The aftermath of Kairo's battle. The shifting alliances."
Arson's flames flared faintly beneath his cloak. "Don't get in my way."
Glacius's smirk deepened. "I wouldn't dream of it."
And so, the two rival princes stood - fire and ice - a silent standoff in the middle of a desert already on the brink of chaos.
After a few minutes...
The tension between Arson and Glacius, though ever present, had simmered down into something almost... conversational.
The desert heat clashed with the cold aura that seemed to trail Glacius wherever he went, but for once, their words weren't barbed with threats.
"Since we're both just observing," Arson said, his voice half-sarcastic, "tell me, Glacius - how many territories have you conquered for the Ice tribe?"
Glacius smirked, his icy blue eyes flickering with pride. "I've expanded our hold in the aquatic neutral residents as well as the islands that were in our way. To be frank, I probably conquered almost 2 countries."
Arson let out a low whistle. "Not bad. Though don't tell me it was a struggle? They barely put up a fight, didn't they?"
Glacius arched a brow. "Not every battle is won with brute force. Sometimes, a mere shift in the temperature is enough to drive entire clans away. Fear does the rest."
Arson chuckled. "Fear works. It's how I keep my territories in line too."
"Speaking of which," Glacius said, tilting his head, "how many have you claimed, Arson? Or do you lose count every time you burn something down?"
The fire prince smirked. "I've taken more territories than I care to count - the Ember Highlands, the Scorched Wastes, and the Ashen Forests. And now," his voice darkened with a simmering threat, "I'm eyeing the Sand territory."
Glacius gave a subtle nod. "Ambitious, as always."
For a brief moment, the two stood there - conquerors, rivals, yet oddly... relatable.
Then, unexpectedly, the conversation shifted.
"Though I'll admit," Arson muttered, his tone more thoughtful, "it's not all about conquering anymore."
Glacius glanced at him. "Oh?"
Arson's gaze drifted to the entrance of Dune's office, where Sylvia was still inside. "Sylvia's got this way of balancing things. She restores what I destroy. Somehow, it works."
A flicker of surprise crossed Glacius's face, though he quickly masked it. "Interesting."
"Don't tell me Peggy balances you too," Arson teased.
Glacius gave a rare chuckle - a cold, soft sound, his gaze slightly drifting to Dune's office. "Princess Peggy melts my ice and art, as annoying as it is but guess I am used to it now. She thaws whatever I freeze."
"Figures," Arson muttered. "Guess we both have princesses who keep us from going too far."
For the first time, the heat of Arson's flames and the chill of Glacius's ice seemed to coexist - an unspoken acknowledgment that despite their rivalry, they shared more in common than they cared to admit.
Just as the conversation grew oddly comfortable, the moment shattered.
The door to Dune's office flung open.
Out marched Peggy, her eyes instantly locking onto Glacius. "The appointment is over." she said, grabbing his arm in an unceremonious tug. "We are leaving-"
Glacius interrupted. "Excuse me?"
Before he could protest, Peggy was already pulling him away like an unruly guest.
"Seriously?" Glacius muttered, resisting just enough to maintain his dignity.
Arson burst into laughter, his flames flickering brighter under his cloak. "Looks like you're not as 'cool' as you think."
"Laugh all you want, Arson," Glacius retorted, "but I somehow sense you're next."
At that moment, Sylvia emerged from the office, her green cloak flowing behind her.
Without missing a beat, she grabbed Arson's wrist, her voice calm but firm. "Time to go."
Arson blinked. "Wait, what-"
"Now."
The contrast was almost comical - the two mighty conquerors, princes of fire and ice, being practically dragged away by the women who kept them in check.
"Why are we being handled like this?" Arson grumbled, his voice low but clearly annoyed.
Glacius adjusted his cloak, his icy composure slipping just a little. "Yes, I'm not some disobedient child."
Peggy glanced over her shoulder putting back her cloak. "Because you two stand out like a wildfire in a snowstorm."
Sylvia added softly, "You're both famous conquerors, everyone will notice when you're around."
The two princes exchanged a glance - their pride slightly bruised but neither dared to argue further.
As they were led away from the Sand district, the fire and ice clashed not in battle this time, but in shared grumbles about how their princesses seemed to have more power over them than any rival tribe ever did.