Deep in the ice-blue waters near the North Pole, a kingdom of coral and kelp shimmered in the cold dark. One day the water shook. A wave of fire rolled through the sea, and everything it touched turned to ash.
A young girl watched from behind a coral arch. Her hands balled into fists. She saw the wave of flame rolling toward her home, and her mind raced. She could not fight him. She would have to be clever.
She hurled a spear of ice at him. It shot forward — but melted before it reached his boots. She ran. Into the kelp forest. But he found her.
He grabbed her wrist. She twisted free and ran. He laughed — a sound like crackling wood — and blew a ring of smoke that drifted through the water like a dark cloud.
As she fled, she noticed something. His flame crown flickered — every step, a little less. Fire needs air. She turned toward the heart of the kingdom, where the ancient pearl hummed in the cold dark.
She darted through the blue corridors of the kingdom, toward the great pearl at its heart. Its cold light pulsed, calling to her. She swam fast, the fire behind her growing thinner with every stroke.
She reached the narrow channel where the ancient pearl rested. She positioned it carefully in the tightest space. Then she waited. Her breath steady. Her eyes fixed on the dark water ahead.
He found her. The channel was narrow — there was nowhere left to run. His crown blazed like a second sun in the dark water. But 海婴 did not flinch. She picked up the pearl.
She hurled the pearl straight into his crown. It shattered with a sound like a thousand bells. A wave of freezing cold exploded outward. His flames sputtered and died.
His furious face went wide-eyed. Then small. He shrank — shrinking down, down, until he was only a tiny ember floating harmlessly in the cold dark water.