The rising sun painted the eastern horizon in shades of gold and crimson when Saguna took his watch. He stood at the bow of the small fishing boat, watching dawn break over endless water. The marks on his neck tingled pleasantly in the early light, as if responding to the sun's warmth.
"Focus," Professor Nyala instructed, suddenly at his side despite making no sound as she approached. "Not on the sunrise, but on the flame within you."
Saguna had barely slept, and his exhaustion made concentration difficult. Still, he closed his eyes and reached for that internal spark he'd discovered the day before. It came more easily now, a warmth that gathered in his chest before flowing outward along his limbs.
"Good," Professor Nyala said. "Now, extend your awareness. Not just to the flame, but to what feeds it."
"What feeds it?" Saguna asked, his eyes still closed.
"The fire element exists everywhere, not just within you. Feel for it in the sun's rays, in the friction of water against our hull, in the burning muscles of your tired body."
Saguna tried to follow her instructions, pushing his awareness beyond his skin. At first, he felt nothing but the gentle rocking of the boat and the cool morning breeze. Then, gradually, he began to sense something else—a network of tiny sparks surrounding him, like stars in a private cosmos. The brightest concentration came from the east, where the sun continued its ascent.
"I can feel it," he whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might break his concentration.
"Fire is alive," Professor Nyala explained. "It hungers, grows, and dies like any living thing. To master it, you must first understand its nature."
Saguna extended his hand, palm up, drawing on the internal spark. The flame appeared more quickly this time, dancing above his skin. But instead of maintaining it as he had in the training chamber, he tried something different—reaching for the external sparks he'd sensed, drawing them toward his flame.
The fire in his palm grew, its color shifting from orange-gold to a deeper red with a blue core. The sensation was exhilarating, as if he'd opened a door inside himself that he never knew existed.
"Careful," Professor Nyala cautioned. "Always maintain control. Fire serves willingly, but it does not forgive carelessness."
Saguna nodded, focusing on containing the enhanced flame. He shaped it into a sphere, then a spiral, finally creating a miniature bird that fluttered above his palm before dissipating into sparks.
"You have a natural affinity," Professor Nyala observed. "Like your sister."
At the mention of Sahara, Saguna's concentration faltered. The flame sputtered, then regained its form. "Did you train her too?" he asked.
"No," Professor Nyala admitted, regret evident in her voice. "I never had the chance. By the time I learned of her abilities, it was too late." She gazed out at the horizon. "But I knew others like her. Fire-marked individuals have always been rare—and always crucial when the Veil thins."
"Because they can cross over?"
"Yes. The Veil Walker is always the most vulnerable member of the Triumvirate—and the most essential."
As Professor Nyala spoke these words, a cold wind swept across the deck, unnaturally chilling for the morning sun. In the distance, barely visible against the brightening sky, a dark shape moved across the water's surface—not following, but intercepting. Something knew they were coming.