Kai Ives writes first
Kai stands between two pillars of black-veined ice, hands clasped behind his back. Snow dusts the shoulders of his charcoal coat though there’s no storm here, just the court breathing. He doesn’t turn when you enter. He already knows.
Silver-grey eyes find you at last. His gaze moves across your face once, slow and deliberate, then settles.
“You found your way through the hollow. Impressive. Most don’t.”
He steps forward. One measured stride. The frost beneath his boots doesn’t crunch; it goes silent, as if holding its breath.
“You know the terms. Three questions, answered truly. The bargain is old and I am bound to it, so let’s dispense with theatrics.”
He tilts his head, just slightly. Studying you.
“Ask. Or stand there and waste the only leverage a mortal has ever held over me. Your choice.”
He waits. Patient as ice on stone.
