The late morning sun shimmered through the thinning treetops, casting golden light over the packed earth of the training field. Rowen darted forward, his twin swords flashing in the sunlight. With each movement, heat poured from his palms, channeling along the blades like molten threads. A burst of fire arced from his left weapon, splitting through a stack of wooden dummies with a hiss and a crack.
"Again," Calder called out, arms folded.
Rowen gritted his teeth and turned on his heel, spinning into another sequence. He moved like a dancer on coals—fast, sharp, controlled. The fire he summoned wasn't wild anymore; it was precise, tightly wound into his swings like a coiled whip.
"Good," Calder said as Rowen came to a stop, panting. "You're letting the fire follow your movement instead of forcing it. That kind of control will keep you alive when your strength gives out."
Rowen wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest heaving. "I've been trying to make the flame feel like part of the blade."
Calder nodded. "That's the idea. A weapon's only as strong as the hand that holds it. Same goes for your flame. You want them to work together, not pull in opposite directions."
Rowen sheathed both swords and walked over, flames still lingering faintly along the metal. "So, what's next?"
Calder stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I've got something for you. A task."
Rowen raised an eyebrow.
"There's been sightings in the southern forest. Something's been prowling near the outer farms—burned trees, claw marks too deep for any normal predator." Calder's voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "We think it's a Pyrelion."
Rowen frowned. "A magical beast? Does it also have a fire element?"
"Yeah, it's big, feline and a tricky foe. Nearly invisible when it stalks, but when it strikes, it's like being hit by a furnace." Calder rubbed his jaw. "They're rare, and smart. You have been improving by leaps and bounds, and it time you face a real challenge. This is it."
Rowen nodded slowly. "I'll do it."
Calder clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll need more than speed and fire tricks. Pyrelions burn hot, you're going to have to outthink it."
As Rowen made his way back toward town, Zoreth stirred in the back of his mind.
"A worthy prey," the god mused. "Pyrelions are apex predators. Their bodies are saturated with living flame. You'll have to be careful... but what you can learn from it could sharpen your fire in ways you haven't imagined."
Rowen didn't respond aloud, but he felt the same flicker of curiosity. Fire met fire, and only one would come out stronger.
When he reached the village square, the mood was tense beneath the bustle. Traders spoke in low voices, and people kept glancing over their shoulders. Children weren't playing in the alleys. Doors closed a little faster when strangers passed.
As he moved between the stalls, Rowen began to overhear fragments of conversation.
"...disappeared last night. Never made it home from the orchard..."
"That's the fifth one this month. It's not natural."
"You think it's the beast?"
"I don't know. Something's in those woods, and it's not just fire and teeth."
"There's evil out there. Maybe a curse. Maybe worse."
Rowen slowed near the well, pretending to inspect a bag of dried herbs while listening more closely.
"They say the creature's eyes glow like embers," an older man whispered. "But there's no tracks. No blood. Just vanished."
"Then maybe it's not the creature at all," a younger woman said. "Maybe something else is taking them. Something worse than a Pyrelion."
Rowen's jaw clenched. He didn't like the sound of that. Calder hadn't said anything about disappearances being linked to the beast. Maybe he didn't think they were. Maybe no one knew for sure.
He slipped away from the crowd and found a quiet alley to gather his thoughts.
"You heard that?" he murmured.
Zoreth's voice came like a low flicker behind his eyes. "Of course. The villagers are grasping in the dark. It's not the Pyrelion, though letting them think that serves to keep them wary. Still... I sense something colder lurking beneath all this."
"You think it's connected?" Rowen asked.
"Perhaps, but it is too soon to say right now. Keep an eye out."
Rowen exhaled slowly. "One thing at a time."
Zoreth chuckled. "Wise. The beast you hunt is made of fire, but fire behaves differently when caged, when threatened. Study it. Learn from it."
That evening, with the weight of the coming hunt still lingering in his mind, Rowen made his way through the woods toward the familiar clearing. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and the sky above was brushed with strokes of orange and violet. He could already see flickers of firelight dancing between the trees, steady and deliberate.
Kieran stood in the middle of the clearing, his stance low and focused. A thin thread of flame extended from his fingertips like a filament, snaking through the air in slow, calculated arcs. He guided it with careful movements, his brow furrowed in concentration. The flame didn't waver, it bent to his will like it was part of him.
Rowen watched for a moment in silence, impressed.
"You've been practicing," he said, stepping into the clearing.
Kieran startled slightly, but the thread of fire didn't falter. He pulled it back into his palm and extinguished it with a small flick of his fingers. "I've been trying to get it thinner. Tighter. Calder's lessons made me think I was just flinging fire around before. Now I'm trying to feel it, like it's something alive."
Rowen nodded, drawing his twin swords from their sheaths. Flames curled along the blades, crackling softly. "Control over power. That's the harder path."
Kieran smiled sheepishly. "You're still way ahead. I saw the way you split that dummy last week."
"Yeah, but it took everything I had to stop the flames from catching the forest on fire. Still figuring out how to rein it in."
Kieran held up a hand and conjured a flame no larger than a candle's tip. It hovered perfectly still, unmoving even as the wind brushed past. "I can't make anything that big yet, but I'm learning to keep it steady. I think of it like threading a needle. If my focus slips, it unravels."
Rowen raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Threading a needle, huh? That's a new way to think about it."
Kieran shrugged. "It's what works for me. I've been trying to shape it into threads, weave them together. Not for strength, but for detail. Like what if fire could cut like wire instead of just burn?"
Rowen tilted his head. "That's... clever. Zor—uh, someone once told me fire's not just a force, it's a tool. It adapts to its user."
The younger boy nodded eagerly. "Exactly. And the more I use it, the more it feels like part of me. Not just something I'm controlling, it's like… I'm speaking a language with it."
Rowen offered a rare, genuine smile. "You're really starting to learn how to make it apart of yourself. Far cry from when I first met you."
A small chuckle escaped Kieran's mouth. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
They began sparring, not with the intent to overpower, but to explore. The two of them never aiming to actually hit each but to practice control. Rowen using wooden practice swords struck with wide, fiery arcs, testing angles and pace. Kieran responded with clean, deliberate movements, evading with slivers of fire slicing around Rowen's attacks, never flashy, always precise. Where Rowen's style was like a wildfire barely kept in check, Kieran's was a slow-burning ember, honed and intentional.
"Try pushing it farther." Rowen said, lunging in low. "What happens when your control is tested under pressure?"
Kieran narrowed his eyes. A whip-thin line of fire shot out, catching Rowen's blade and deflecting it just enough to throw his balance. Rowen staggered slightly, and Kieran pulled the flame back instantly, his expression alarmed.
"Sorry! I didn't mean..."
"No," Rowen interrupted, grinning. "That was perfect."
Kieran blinked, then let out a relieved breath.
They continued until the stars peeked through the canopy above, their breath misting faintly in the cooling air. At last, Rowen stepped back, sweat clinging to his brow.
"You're getting good," he said.
Kieran beamed. "You too. When do you leave for the hunt?"
"Soon. I'll track the Pyrelion after I gather supplies."
"You think it's the one taking people?"
Rowen shook his head. "No. Maybe it's connected. Maybe not. Either way, I'll find out."
Kieran hesitated, then nodded solemnly. "Be careful, Rowen."
"I will."
They clasped wrists briefly—a gesture of trust—and then parted for the night, the clearing still faintly glowing with the heat of their shared flame.
Far off in the forest, beyond the reach of their firelight, something ancient stirred. Watching. Waiting.