He sat by the edge of the pool, dipping his fingertips into the cool, crystal water. 
“Well, youth, how goes the game?”
Chadstone lifted his head, searching for the source of the voice.  His impossibly blue gaze met an icy silver one.  The Ancient was concealed in the shadows, a pair of eyes lingering in the mouth of the cave across the pool.
“She knows, now, that I am no mortal,” he answered quietly.  He gazed at his reflection, his frost-white hair and unearthly blue eyes, before looking quickly away.  It was just another game, like the hundreds he’d played before.
“Your skills are improving greatly,” the Ancient offered.
Chadstone wouldn’t step into the trap; he was merely the youngest aljunnu, not the dumbest.  “I’ll never be as good as you are.”
The soft whispering laugh echoed eerily around the cave and rippled across the waters.
“You’d do well to remember that, youth.”  The Ancient’s reply was surprisingly curt.  “Remember what you are.  Never forget it.  It could cost you a game.”
Anger boiled up in Chadstone.  “Remember that just because we have not named One recently does not mean I’m automatically stupid.  Do not call me ‘youth’.  You named me!”  Anger flashed in his eyes, but then his gaze was hooded again, veiling the destructive rage that was in all aljunnu.  An amused smile spread across his mouth.  “What’s your name, anyway?  I am ‘youth’, my name is Chadstone.  You are ‘The Ancient One’, your name is…?”
The silver eyes glared.  “Soon, youth, soon,” the Ancient sing-songed as he retreated to the depths of the shadows.
  He knew what he was doing – he’d gone through great pains to create a game, the game, with a glittering prize.
An image appeared on the mirror-like surface of the water.  Chadstone leaned forwards.  There she was, his prize, golden-eyed and innocent.  She was a fighter, oh yes, but the dice were loaded against her.  He would win.  Oh yes, he would win.  Something in his eyes glittered.  He was the youth of the aljunnu.  He was Chadstone.
Something in him tugged, though, when she reached out to that boy and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  Of all the things he could have, that thing right there in front of him, taunting him, mocking him, was something he could never have.  The emotion that sparked in the boy’s eyes whenever she was near…Oh no, he could never have that.
The moment passed, and Chadstone shook himself out of it, rising up.  He had a game to win.
“Still haven’t found her yet?”
Dakshana whirled around at that musical, elemental voice.  She’d almost backed right into Chadstone where he was leaning against the wall.  His gaze was hooded, but she felt it and shivered when it slid over her.
An amused grin played at his lips.  “Need any help?”
She gazed at him curiously.  Could she trust him?  He was no human, but maybe a god?  No, he’d hidden Malia-kā, taken Dakshana and her friends to this place…
She jumped when a hand slid through her curls.
“I told you, you’re beautiful.”  It was said in barely a breath, right next to her ear…how had he gotten so close?
“Don’t,” she protested, with no conviction.  The last thing she saw was his smirk before she felt a mouth on hers, strong arms sliding around her waist.  The kiss was languid and slow, in no wise gentle.  She was soft and pliant in his arms, sinking against him as his mouth closed over hers again and again.
But suddenly the kiss was tender, filled with longing as he held her tightly.  Dakshana realized what was happening and yanked back, gasping.  For a moment, Chadstone looked stricken, reaching out to her.  The look vanished, replaced with an amused smirk as a scream pierced the air.  He leaned back into the shadows, personification of chiaroscuro.
“Good luck finding her.”
And he vanished.