The training pit in Ember Hollow was a ring of scorched stone surrounded by jagged rock walls. Torches flickered along the perimeter, casting shadows that twisted like ghosts. Kael stood at the center, shoulders tense, sweat already clinging to his brow.
Nyra paced around him, arms crossed, her crimson cloak brushing the ground.
"Again," she ordered.
Kael raised his hands. The flame sputtered into life—golden, wild, and uneven.
"Control, not chaos!" Nyra snapped.
He tried to contain it, focus it into a single stream, but the flame recoiled, snapping out in all directions. One arc singed the training dummy behind him. Another flared toward the edge of the pit.
Kael gasped, clutching his hands to his chest. The fire vanished.
"I'm trying," he panted.
"Trying gets you killed," Nyra barked. "The phoenix flame doesn't obey fear. It mirrors it. You want to wield it? You learn to stop running from yourself."
Kael bit down frustration. She was right. The fire wasn't just power—it was a reflection of him. And he didn't even know who he was anymore.
Elara appeared at the edge of the pit, arms folded as she leaned against the wall. "Maybe you should let him breathe."
Nyra scowled. "He breathes enough. What he needs is pressure."
With a flick of her fingers, a small flame burst to life in her palm. "Last time. Let's see what you've learned."
Kael nodded, jaw tight. He dug deep into the ember inside, the one that pulsed just behind his ribs like a second heartbeat. The phoenix fire answered—hotter this time, smoother.
A ball of flame bloomed in his palm, bright and golden.
Nyra hurled her flame at him.
Kael stepped forward—not away. He slashed his hand through the air, and the phoenix fire lashed out like a whip, meeting her flame mid-air. A crack echoed as both fires exploded in a flash of gold and red.
Smoke drifted over the pit. Nyra's eyes widened for a brief second before she covered it with a scowl.
"Better," she said, turning away. "We start again at dawn."
Later that night, Kael sat by the stream where he often found quiet. The ache in his arms from channeling the flame still lingered, but it was bearable.
Elara joined him without a word. She handed him a slice of dried fruit.
"You didn't burn the place down," she said with a half-smile. "Progress."
Kael chuckled weakly. "Barely."
She looked at him closely. "You're scared of it, aren't you? The flame."
He didn't answer right away. The water's reflection shimmered with a faint golden glow. "I'm scared of what I'll become."
Elara nodded slowly. "You're not alone in that."
Kael glanced at her. "What about you? What are you afraid of?"
Her gaze dropped. "That I'll let someone in again... and lose them. Like I lost my brother."
He didn't press. The silence stretched between them, soft and steady.
Then she said quietly, "But maybe that's the risk we have to take."
Their eyes met in the glow of the firelight. Something unspoken passed between them—fragile, but real.
Kael looked away first. "The more I use the flame, the more I feel it... changing me."
"Good," Elara said. "You're meant to change. Just make sure you're changing for the right reasons."
As night deepened, Kael lay in the stone shelter Nyra had assigned him, the phoenix flame pulsing gently beneath his skin like a secret heartbeat.
Tomorrow, the real tests would begin.
But for the first time, he didn't feel entirely alone.