Awakening A New Generation of Hunters

Zuria's P.O.V 

She's home. Yet, the warmth she longed for feels muted. Zuria can't shake the heavy weight of disappointment—in herself, in her choices. She knows she's let down her dad, her father, and her entire clan. As the first daughter of the Dragon Lord and a representative of the Chicago Elemental Headquarters, she was meant to lead, to inspire. Instead, she had run after a man who saw her as nothing more than a pawn. She had failed. 

Today, they're heading to the Headquarters to reunite with family and friends. It should feel like a fresh start, but Zuria can't muster excitement. Instead, there's an emptiness inside her, a hollow ache. She knows it's not normal to feel this way, but the feeling is impossible to ignore. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, she descends the stairs, her cane tapping softly against each step. Though she's adapted to navigating her world without sight, every movement still feels like a reminder of what she's lost. Her body aches—not from fatigue but from the unease that claws at her insides. She misses the streets, chaotic as they were, and the warped sense of freedom they gave her. Yet she knows returning to them would only drag her further into the darkness. 

"Baby, come join us for breakfast before we leave," her father calls gently. 

She makes her way to the table, the voices of her family guiding her. Before she can sit, the door bursts open, and her best friends charge in. 

"Zuria!" 

They engulf her in a bone-crushing hug. Despite herself, she smiles, lightly pushing them back. 

"How dare you reject your husband's hug?" one teases. 

"And our love?" adds the other with mock offense. 

"Husband's? Love?" she smirks. "You two are still out of your damn minds." 

Abel and Cain— have always been her closest friends, more like brothers—have always been her anchors. They were concerned about her so much so blocked them before their snooping around could get them killed. She knows that they could handle themselves in the shambles she got herself involved in. She officially unblocked them two days after her arrival and they pushed its all under the rug and updated her on everything without really prying on her life- which includes her poor decisions. Their teasing pulled her out of her thoughts and pull a genuine laugh from her, the first in days. 

"Let's see if you still have your fighting skills," Abel challenges, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the quiet. His tone carries a smirk, daring her to prove herself. 

Zuria tilts her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "You might regret asking that." 

Fighting has always been her refuge, her way of silencing the chaos in her mind. But now, it feels different—less about survival, more about reclaiming the confidence she's lost. She nods, gripping the staff she's crafted from the training room's reinforced metal rack, its cool, smooth weight like an old friend in her hands. 

The room hums with energy, every shift of air and faint vibration heightened by her lack of sight. Abel's presence is undeniable, a storm brewing in her peripheral senses. His heavy steps echo across the mat, his signature scent of earth and rain anchoring her. 

"Ready?" he asks, but it's not a question. 

"Always." 

The air changes. She feels the subtle movement—his body tensing, the faint sound of leather boots pivoting on the mat—and she reacts instinctively. Her staff arcs up, meeting the edge of his hunting blade with a metallic clang that reverberates through her arms. Abel doesn't relent, his sheer strength forcing her backward. 

"Come on, Zoe," he taunts, his voice a low rumble, "you're not fighting a street rat anymore." 

She grits her teeth, focusing on the faint rustle of his clothing and the slight creak of the floor beneath him. When he lunges again, she pivots, twisting away from his strike, the edge of his blade skimming past her ribs. But she's not fast enough. Abel hooks her staff with his blade, pulling her off balance. His arm snakes around her, pinning her in an unyielding hold. 

"Distracted," he says, his tone firm but edged with disappointment. 

She growls softly, tapping out. "Again." 

This time, she drowns out her frustration and lets the room guide her. Every sound, every vibration, every subtle shift of air becomes her map. Abel comes at her hard, his strikes relentless, but she meets him blow for blow. His blade whistles past her ear, and she ducks low, using her staff to sweep at his legs. He sidesteps, but she feels the momentary imbalance in his footing and presses her advantage. 

With a quick maneuver, she spins behind him, locking her staff across his throat and yanking him off balance. Abel freezes, then lets out a low, rumbling laugh. 

"Well played," he says, tapping out. "Didn't think you had it in you." 

She smirks, releasing him. "Guess I'm full of surprises." 

Cain steps forward, his presence entirely different from Abel's stormy energy. He's a predator, sleek and sharp, his movements nearly silent. She can feel the faint vibrations of his steps as he circles her, testing her awareness. 

"Let's see if you can keep up," he says, his voice smooth, taunting. 

He moves like lightning, aiming low for a leg sweep. She leaps, her instincts honed, but Cain is relentless. He shifts before she can land, his speed throwing off her rhythm. The air crackles around him, his attacks coming in calculated bursts. 

Zuria adjusts, focusing on his rhythm—the faint ripple of his breath, the way the air shifts with his speed. She feels his next move before he makes it, sidestepping his strike and using her staff to block his follow-up. 

But Cain's no fool. He changes tactics, feinting to her left before darting right, his hand brushing her shoulder. 

"Too slow," he teases, his voice a low murmur. 

She smirks. "Let's see how fast you are when you can't move." 

With a flick of her wrist, she bends his blood, locking his body in place. She can feel the rhythmic thrum of his pulse, the ebb and flow of his energy, as she freezes him mid-motion. 

Cain groans. "Cheating again? Typical." 

"Life's not fair," she quips, releasing him with a smirk. 

Cain shakes his head, his laughter light and genuine. "Remind me never to challenge you when you're in a mood." 

Abel claps her on the shoulder, his grip firm but approving. "You're getting there. But don't think this means you're ready for anything outside this room." 

Zuria doesn't reply, but her lips curve into a determined smile. She's not just fighting to prove herself to them. She's fighting to prove herself to herself. She extends a hand to help Cain up, the heat of his palm grounding her. The matches are a stark reminder of how far she's fallen—not just in skill but in confidence. She needs her father to help her rebuild what she's lost. 

"Zuria." 

Her father's voice pulls her from her thoughts. It's steady, calming, but there's an undercurrent of sadness that cuts through her. She turns toward him, forcing a smile that she knows he can sense isn't real. 

"Dad," she whispers, the word heavy with regret. 

Memories flood her mind—the day she ran away, the pain etched on his face, the sound of his cries as she stormed off. She'd thought she was chasing freedom, but all she'd found was pain and betrayal. 

Her father places a hand on her shoulder, the warmth of his touch steadying her. She can feel the unspoken forgiveness in his gesture, but it doesn't ease the ache inside her. 

"You're stronger than you think, Zuria," he says softly. "But strength comes in trusting and forgiving yourself again." 

And for the first time in a long time, she tries believes him.

"Come, your father has something important to tell you. Cain. Abel. Please."

Her dad leads the way and they follow half interested but generally curious as to what this is all about. Zuria steps into her father's office, guided by her dad who left her side to stand next to her father who is beaming with powerful energy- power. The air inside feels charged, humming faintly with elemental energy but over ruled by the mighty dragons pulsing power. It's a sensation she's grown used to, yet it never fails to raise the hairs on her arms. Every element in the room feels deliberate a reflection of her mastery and his identity. Her father It's not just a space—it's a For Zuria, even without sight, the room is a sensory tapestry of power, balance, and control.