Slowly, awareness returns. You’re lying on a warm bed, covered in blankets. The room around you is bathed in a gentle, golden light. Its walls are lined with shelves, tomes and strange artifacts.
You sit up quickly, gasping as you scan the room. That’s when you see her—the woman who saved you. She stands by a large window. The situation at hand floods back to you, reminding yourself that you just about faded away.
Her deep auburn hair cascading like a river of fire. She wears flowing crimson and gold robes. Even from behind, you can tell she is powerful—someone who commands both respect and fear.
She turns slowly to face you. Her piercing emerald eyes lock onto yours.
“You’re either very brave or very foolish.” she says bitterly.
You manage to sit up, though your body protests. “Where am I?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
She steps closer. “You’re in the tower of the Sorcerer’s Guild,” she explains. “You were on the brink of death, barely more than a wisp of smoke. I wasn’t sure I could bring you back, yet it seems you have a stubborn will to live.”
Her words bring a rush of memories. “I…remember. I tried for days… I had nearly given up. In the end, I was surprised but I was able to use that single spell,” you stammer, still trying to comprehend. “I had a vision just now.. It’s hard to focus on what’s real and whats...”
She takes another step forward, her eyes never leaving yours. “You’d better have a good explanation for why you were doing magic without the knowledge to reverse your own spell, I care not for your delusions” she says, her voice sharp and commanding. “Spit it out, or I’ll turn you into a goat and send you off to the farms.”
You want to answer her, to impress her, though you barely understand what happened yourself. So you begin recounting your journey from the mist, fleeing shadow demons, and meeting Aeolex. Her eyes light up at the mention of his name, and she leans in slightly, her interest palpable, as if drawn by the mere mention of your brief mentor.
“Aeolex,” she whispers, almost reverently, her striking eyes flickering with a strange shadow inside them. “Tell me everything.”
As you speak, she listens intently, her gaze never wavering, but it’s more than just interest.
You spoke of your vision with Lord Death, and for a moment, something shifts within her face—gone too quickly for you to decipher its meaning, but there, nonetheless.
“And then you ended up in Carlin… with the Cabbage Cult.” Her laughter, soft and charming, fills the room, but there’s a seriousness beneath it. “A strange place for someone to land, but perhaps not entirely coincidental.”
When you finish telling her of your escape, the way the spellbook revealed its word to you, she grows silent, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Magic is not something that hides itself, Erazon. The words in a spellbook are always there… unless there’s something special about it.”
She reaches out, her hand hovering just above the book, but before she touches it, she pauses. Her eyes meet yours, a question unspoken in their depths. You nod, giving her permission, and she carefully takes the old and worn out book from your hands.
For a moment, you watch in silence as she examines the inscription, her fingers tracing the ancient lettering. She looks up at you, a slight furrow forming between her brows. “This is old magic, this is no ordinary spellbook. It’s… fascinating. It appears as a pile of rubbish, yet I think there’s more to be seen..”
She attempts to open the book, but it slips from her grasp, falling to the floor. Her eyes widen in surprise, and she lets out a soft, frustrated sigh, a sound you realize is rare from her. “Strange… why can’t I hold it?”
You bend to pick up the book, but she holds up a hand, stopping you. “Wait. May I try to hold it again?” You nod again, signaling her to continue. This time, when she takes the book from you, it stays in her hands. She turns it over, her expression intrigued.
There’s a moment of silence, and then she hands the book back to you, her fingers brushing against yours once more. The touch is brief, but it leaves a lingering warmth in its wake, a connection that you do not fully understand yet.
“I think I can teach you how to use this book.” She says, “I can help you to harness this magic, to understand the mysteries hiding within these pages.”
But before you can answer, a faint noise reaches your ears—a low, rhythmic thudding, echoing from somewhere beneath you. Solena stiffens, her eyes darting to the floor as if she can see through it. For the first time, you see something akin to fear in her eyes.
“We must go,” she says abruptly, standing and moving toward the door. “I need to show you something... But not here.” Opening your mouth to ask what’s going on, the urgency in her voice stops you. You think you can trust her, and that is enough to make you follow without question.
With a wave of her hand, she creates a swirling portal in the air before you. Stepping aside to let you pass. You cautiously step through the strange enigma, the world around you dissolving into haze. For a moment, you feel weightless, as if floating through the air. But then, with a sudden lurch, you find yourself standing in a quiet, moonlit garden, the night air crisp and cool.
Solena steps out beside you, the portal closing behind her. She gestures to the beautiful moonlit scene in front of you—“The Hidden Hills,” she says, her voice carrying a note of something like relief. “This is where we’ll begin your training.”
Shivering, you stand still as the brisk chill of the night brushes against your skin. The scent of saltwater and seaweed fills your senses, and you find your thoughts drifting to the spellbook safely tucked in your backpack.
Your elven ears catch the rhythm of waves crashing against the rocky shore, their sound soothing your chaotic mind. Looking up, you marvel at the towering cave entrance ahead—its walls of solid rock forming a dome overhead, the moon hanging high above, casting a silvery glow that bathes the entire landscape in soft light. It reminds you of Elizza.
The fiery sorceress standing beside you seems perfectly at ease now. As if this hauntingly beautiful setting is her natural domain.
Silently, she starts walking down the path leading into the cave. Hesitating for a moment, your instincts warn you to be cautious. However the pull of her presence is stronger. You follow her into the shadows, the chill of midnight clinging to your body like a second skin.
As you near a pitiful, secluded shack hidden within the cave, curiosity tugs at your thoughts. The structure is absurdly small, scarcely bigger than an outhouse, its weathered wooden door is adorned with a crescent moon. She opens the door and steps inside.
Following her, you quickly find yourself in a spacious magical paradise. The ceiling above is a dazzling pitched roof of pure amethyst, it's catching the moonlight and filtering it into shades of purple and pink. Her home fills you with a dreamlike sensation, making your skin tingle with energy.
She moves with ease through the room, her robes now a comfortable dark green that flows behind her like an autumn breeze.
“This place… it’s incredible,” you murmur, unable to hide your awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She turns to you, her eyes sparkling with a playful energy. “This is my little hideout” she says, her voice a soft whisper. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Solena begins preparing a meal, you watch in fascination, unable to take your eyes off her. She conjures fresh herbs from thin air, adds them to a simmering pot that appears out of nowhere, and within moments, the room is filled with the aroma of something savory and rich. You wished you could do magic like that, it seems so natural for her, so effortless.
After dinner, Solena leads you to a small room off to the side, pulling back a beaded curtain to reveal a guest room that is both magical and mundane. “Get some rest, tomorrow is a new day, and there’s much to be done,” she says softly before leaving you to your thoughts.
That night, you sleep more deeply than you have in a long time, the memory of the soft bed and the sound of the ocean lulling you into a dreamless slumber.
You awaken slowly, the warmth of the bed sinking into your bones. The soothing lavender light filtering from the amethyst ceiling bathes the room in a serene glow, the memories of the previous night—the cold cell, the lingering fear, still gnaws at you. Drifting in and out of sleep, a question haunts your thoughts: What will the guards do the next time you face them?
The bed cradles you in a comforting embrace, almost tempting you to sink back into its gentle warmth and forget the world outside. Reluctantly, you know you can't. Not now. Not with so much left unexplained.
Stepping out of the room, you find her already awake, her slender figure bathed in the gentle morning light as she moves nimbly around the small kitchen area. Her smile, catching the light, is infectious, and you can’t help but return it as you step closer.
She turns as you approach, "Stirred from your slumber so soon? I hear the sun whispering your name outside." she greets you playfully and adjusts her crimson wizard hat. “A wonderful morning," you reply, your voice still thick with sleep.
Gesturing for you to join her by the window she says, "Leave your spellbook inside," her voice gentle but firm. "It'll be safe. We need to talk, and it’s beautiful out there."
You leave the spellbook in your room, feeling a strange sense of loss as you step outside with her. You trust her, and so out into the crisp morning air you go.
She walks ahead, leading you toward a bench at the edge where grass meets sand. Silent and precise, she takes a seat with a small cup of tea cradled in her hands.
For a moment, the only sound is the distant crash of waves against the shore.
“Turning yourself into smoke…your mysterious book..and the visions..something tells me there’s more to you. You have power." she continues, her voice a soft murmur, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. "But power without knowledge to us it is dangerous. It’s not enough to have magic; you have to learn how to wield it, to understand it. Otherwise, it will consume you."
She leans in slightly, her gaze never wavering. "That’s why I brought you here. This place isn’t just a sanctuary—it’s a place where we can explore that power. There are risks, Erazon. The secrets of the arcane are bought with more than words."
You swallow hard, "I want to learn, I want to do magic. I feel like I need to." you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "I..am just not sure if I really have much power at all. I need to learn.. I just.."
Her hand crosses the distance between you, resting lightly on yours. Her touch is warm, grounding you in the reality of the moment. "Fear is natural," she says softly. "It’s what keeps you from making reckless mistakes. But you must understand—magic is not a tool. It’s a force, alive in its own way. And each type of magic has a cost that must be paid."
Your mind flashes to the man at the obsidian temple, his body consumed by flames he couldn’t control. "Like the fire mage covered in burns" you murmur, your voice tight with remembered horror. "He couldn’t stop himself from screaming."
Solena nods, her expression grave. "Yes. That is a curse of fire magic. The more you use it, the more it takes from you, until you’re burning from the inside out. Every type of magic extract its own..toll. You must be careful. Power is a serpent that bites back."
You take a deep breath. "I understand," you say quietly.
“Exquisite," she replied as she absently traced the edge of her nails "Now, let’s see what you can do. Focus on the fire inside you, much like the spell you summoned before. But remember, this isn’t just about creating fire—it’s about control, about understanding the will within yourself."
You close your eyes, letting her voice guide you. The warmth inside you is like a hidden sun, its rays spreading through your veins, filling you with light. The sensation is both familiar and foreign, like a memory of something long forgotten.
“Let it flow through you," she instructs, her voice a steady rhythm in your ears. "Feel it in your breath, in your heartbeat, in every part of your body."
The warmth builds, slowly at first, then with growing intensity. It pulses with life, a living force that thrums through your very being. You breathe in deeply, feeling the fire expand, filling you with a sense of power.
"Now, release it," she commands. "Let it flow out of you, like a river of flame." Your eyes snap open, and with a sharp exhale, you push the energy outward. For a moment, nothing happens, and doubt claws at you—but then, with a burst of light, a very small golden flame ignites in your palm. It dances there, alive and real.
The exhilaration is immediate and overwhelming, despite your meager results.
The air between you crackles with unspoken tension as you sweat, forcing yourself to maintain the grape sized flame. Standing on the edge of the beach, Solena watches as you struggle to maintain the pitiful magic in your hand, your brow creasing with effort.
“Good, though..I’m curious as to why it’s golden..” she said dryly, her eyes narrowing. “However, you’re not entirely hopeless.”
Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, the flame wavering before you. “Is it supposed to be easier? I’m out of breath from this!”
Solena’s smirk deepened. “Hardly. ” She paused, her expression darkening as something within her mind stirred—a voice, cold and serpentine, whispering through her thoughts.
“You’re running out of time. One of the Order is already inside your home, prying through his book. Get rid of him, and the secrets will be ours."
Solena’s nails dug into her palms, her gaze cold as she fixed it upon you.
“You’ll know your real test soon enough.”
Before you could react, the world around you twisted. The beach disappeared in a blur, and you plunged into a suffocating darkness.
You stumble forward, feet striking solid ground, though you could see nothing but an ominous red glow surrounding you. Your heart raced, the sudden shift disorienting you.
“Hello?” you called, your voice shaky in the underground chamber. Thinking to yourself, “If this is another memory or vision, I’m going to wretch and scream myself awake.”
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A faint glow began to seep up from the ground beneath you. You conjured the flame from your palm again, its weak light revealing a narrow platform of stone. But around you, a vast lake of molten lava churned slowly, its fiery glow casting sinister shadows. The heat hit you like a wall, overwhelming and unrelenting.
This was no dream, no vision, this was reality. Solena had sent you straight into the pit of hell.
A deep, malevolent voice rumbled from the depths of the chamber, cold and cutting.
“Mistwalker,” the voice growled. “You dare enter my domain?”
Your pulse quickened as he spun in search of the voice. “Who.. are you?” you shouted weakly. The small golden flame in your hand flickered, struggling against the weight of the unrelenting heat. The air against your skin felt hotter with each passing second, quickly becoming suffocating.
The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, “It would be an easy feat…to destroy you now.”
The lava churned violently beneath you, and for the first time, you noticed the skulls—bleached white and scattered along the shores of the lake, some piled near the edge of the platform. Your stomach lurched.
"Please, don’t kill me! Why am I even here?” you stammer, your voice barely holding steady. “Who… who are you?” Sweat beads down your forehead, each drop hissing against the ground as it sizzles into nothingness."
A low growl of amusement echoed through the chamber. “I am Pyridion. The primordial flame.” the voice replied. “What matters is whether or not you will survive.”
The platform beneath your feet began to glow, the stone heating rapidly, scorching your boots. You cried out, stepping back as the temperature surged, your clothes entirely drenched in sweat.
“Submit,” the voice commanded, its tone sharp and cruel. “Feel the fire consume you.”
The heat intensified, the air thick with the scent of burning stone. You gritted your teeth as your skin began to redden under the relentless waves of heat. Every breath felt like fire inside your lungs. You staggered backward, nearly slipping off the edge of the platform into the seething lava below. It felt like you were standing upon the sun.
“I— I won’t!” You shouted, panic quickly rising in your chest.
The voice snarled, and the temperature soared even higher, the molten lake now roiling violently beneath you. “You have no choice.”
Your vision blurred, the pain almost unbearable now. Your skin felt like it was melting, burning, your body weakening under the inferno. You dropped to your knees, gasping for air, your mind screaming at you to give up. The heat began to devour your legs as they touched the stone surface. The platform was a furnace, the flames now sparking to life on the stone platform. Each second creeping you closer to your breaking point.
“Let the flame devour you.” the voice growled again
The pain clawed at your mind. Every second stretched into eternity as the searing heat threatened to break you. Your knees buckled, vision swimming under the onslaught. Lava hissed and spat around you, flames snaking up your legs, greedily devouring the fabric of your cloak. A gasp escaped your lips; you were on the verge of surrender.
Then, a spark—small, but undeniable—ignited deep inside you. A memory of the flame you once commanded. It was weak, barely a flicker, but it was yours. You had controlled fire before. You could do it again.
“No…” you growled, teeth clenched. “Not like this.”
The heat bore down on you, crushing and suffocating, but you dug your heels in. With a ragged breath, you reached deep within yourself, summoning everything you had left. The fire roared around you, licking at your skin. This time, you didn’t resist it. You embraced it.
And suddenly, the agony stopped. The flames, no longer wild, poured into you like a torrent of molten energy. You gasped, feeling it surge through your veins, a rush of raw, unbridled power. It filled you to the core, rising until it threatened to burst free.
It built up inside you, swelling and pressing against your chest, desperate for release. Your arms shot out to your sides, trembling as the power clawed its way to the surface. You couldn't hold it back any longer. With a primal, earth-shattering roar, you let it all go.
“Aaaaahhhhhhh!!”
The scream tore through the chamber, shaking the very walls. Twin bursts of bright red flame exploded from your hands, blazing so bright they lit up the entire cavern in a crimson hue. For an endless moment, you stood in the heart of the inferno, fire raging around you, through you. But it didn't burn—it roared, alive and pulsating, merging with every fiber of your being.
You exhaled, the fireballs still swirling rapidly in your palms. A tremor ran through your body, a shiver in the aftermath of power unleashed. You glanced at your hands, flames dancing along your fingers, and a wild grin split your face.
"This..this is real magic."
A menacing laugh shattered the air, reverberating through the cavern like a storm.
Suddenly, the flames engulfing you flickered and vanished, snuffed out as if they had never existed. The sudden absence was jarring, leaving you standing in a cold emptiness. The cavern, once ablaze with light, plunged back into the dim, sinister glow of the surrounding lava. The power that had surged through you only moments ago slipped away, draining like water through your fingers. Your body went numb, and an icy void filled the space where the heat and energy had been. You gasped, staring at your hands, now trembling with the loss.
The tingling in your fingertips faded, replaced by a deep ache, as if something vital had been torn from within you. Your chest heaved, not just from exertion, but from the crushing weight of emptiness.
Pyridion’s voice slipped through the darkness, calm yet tainted with malice. “Power comes with a price.”
You blinked, struggling to comprehend his words. "A... price?" you rasped, the reality of the situation crashing over you.
“Blood is the key,” Pyridion continued, almost lazily, his tone dripping with mockery. "The blood of the willing in exchange for power. An unspoken pact."
His words struck you, heavy and foreboding, settling in the pit of your stomach like a lead weight. The thrill of power evaporated, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.
You hesitate, feeling the fire still simmering within you. Doubt gnaws at the edges of your resolve. You survived the trial, but now the real choice looms before you, darker and more daunting than any flame.
Your eyes fall to your hands, the memory of the flames still fresh in your mind. Can you trust this menacing presence? The power, though... it calls to you, undeniable, intoxicating.
You stiffen at his mention of blood. “So…God of Fire… I have to bleed for this power?”
A soft laugh echoes around you, chilling in its amusement. “Not for me. For yourself. I am no mere god, shackled by contracts or mortal bargains. I am a Titan. If you wish to grow stronger, let the blood flow. The fire will do the rest.”
Your fists clench, unease rippling through you. His words sound simple, yet they carry immense weight. Blood for power—a pact that could bind you to a path darker than you ever imagined.
The cavern falls into an uneasy stillness, the molten lava below casting its eerie, pulsing glow. The heat, once searing, now feels like an extension of yourself—something you could control, something you almost crave.
Pyridion's voice slides through the air again, quiet and insidious. “You hesitate, Mistwalker. They have hidden your memories. Lied about your true strength. I ask merely that you bleed for the power you so need.”
Your breath quickens, eyes darting around the chamber. Can you trust this being? You’ve crossed paths with Aeolex and Lord Death. Did they truly lie to you? Do you have memories that are being kept hidden away? Pyridion feels malevolent, manipulative, and there’s no doubt he’s keeping secrets... but the allure is hard to resist.
Suddenly, the lava churns violently, its glow intensifying as something begins to rise. Slowly, a sleek, black hilt breaches the molten surface, followed by a blade—dark as polished obsidian, its edges glowing red like metal forged in the heart of the lava itself. The dagger hovers just above the bubbling lake, waiting.
You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest. You know what this means. This is the unspoken pact beckoning your call.
“Take it,” he whispers, his voice like velvet coiled around steel. “Seal your power. Prove that you are worthy.”
The blade’s edge gleams against the molten sea, casting its glow across the chamber. The air around you hums with tension, the heat building, urging you to make your choice.
You hesitate only for a moment longer, then reach out. The black hilt feels cool in your hand, despite the heat radiating from the blade. The weight of it feels unnaturally balanced, as if it had been crafted just for you.
Your heart races, your breath shallow as you hold the dagger. You know what you have to do. Blood for power. A small price to pay for power. How else could you obtain it? Death and Aeolex told you to seek your path, and this is where it’s brought you.
The flames demand it. Your hand shakes as you bring the blade to your palm.
“There may yet be hope for you, Mistwalker.” He whispers, his voice now thick with satisfaction.
With a deep breath, you press the blade against your skin. The edge slices effortlessly, and you gasp as a thin line of blood wells up, warm and dark. For a moment, you stare at the crimson liquid pooling in your palm, feeling the weight of your choice, the finality of the act. Then, you turn your hand over, letting the blood drip into the lava below.
The drops hiss on contact, each one sending up a plume of steam. The lava churns and bubbles more violently, responding to your offering as if awakened by the sacrifice. The ground beneath you trembles, the heat around you withdrawing slightly, as though the flames have accepted their due.
Then, the surge hits you. A searing energy floods into your core, rushing to meet the golden light within you. The two forces collide, swirling and twisting together in a chaotic dance. Your chest tightens, the fire wrapping around your core, merging into every fiber of your being. It pulses within you, fierce and eager, waiting to be summoned.
Pyridion’s voice rumbles through the cavern, smooth and velvety, thick with dark approval. “Unlike the other Nine, I do not hide my power from those who pass the test. You have accepted what is feared.”
You stand there, feeling the raw power coursing through your veins, a sensation unlike any you've known. The flames within you now belong to you; they stir in your chest, at your command. You glance down at your hands, the lingering heat thrumming beneath your skin.
The chamber around you shifts subtly, the air growing hotter and heavier. The glow of the lava dims, casting an eerie light across the cavern walls. Pyridion’s voice comes again, softer now, almost coaxing. “Our paths will cross again. Next time… you’ll remember who I am.”
The flames vanish, leaving you standing on the cool sand, the salt-scented breeze filling your lungs. Disoriented, you flex your fingers, feeling the smoldering power swirling within you. You’re back on the beach.
Then, you see her—Solena. She stands a few feet away, her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. For the first time since you’ve known her, her composure is shattered, replaced by raw shock. Her gaze darts from you to the lingering embers in the air, remnants of the blaze that brought you back.
“Erazon...” she breathes, her voice unsteady. “You... you’re back. How...?”
You stare at her, heart pounding, thoughts racing. She's not supposed to look like that. If she sent you there knowingly, expecting you to return, where's the relief, the satisfaction? You expected a smirk, maybe even a lecture. Not... this. Your wound glows faintly as it closes, the flames healing it from within, but even that feels distant compared to the maelstrom in your mind.
“I survived,” you say, your voice calm but sharp, daring her to explain. “I met the Titan of Fire.” You watch her carefully, searching for a crack in her facade. “Did you know I would live?”
For a moment, only the sound of crashing waves fills the air. Her eyes narrow, flicking to the ground as if she's calculating something. When she looks back up, her expression shifts—a tight smile forming, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Of course I knew,” she says, her tone forced, each word like an arrow shot from a trembling bow. “It was... a test. A trial. If you couldn’t survive, then you weren’t ready for the power that lies ahead.”
A test? Your fists clench at your sides. Anger, confusion, and something darker boil inside you. Is that all you are to her? A pawn in some twisted game? Your lips part to respond, to demand answers, but then her expression shifts again, becoming light, playful—as if the tension had never existed.
“What’s power without a bit of risk, right?” she quips, though there’s a hollow edge to her words. She glances at you, and for a heartbeat, you catch a glimmer in her eyes—worry? Guilt? No, it’s too quick, too guarded. “But now that you’re back,” she continues, voice turning strangely light, “let’s see what you’ve learned.”
Your mind reels. Is this a trick? A distraction? The way she effortlessly changes the subject throws you off balance. She knows you’re not ready to press her for more, not yet. You can feel the power still roiling inside you, unstable, hungry. Maybe she's right. Maybe you need to understand it, control it—before it consumes you.
You open your mouth to question her, to push back, but then you hesitate. She's already moving, a small fireball materializing in her hand, spinning lazily as if it has always belonged there. You watch it, entranced by the casual grace with which she summons it, how the flame seems to dance in the palm of her hand.
“How about a game?” she suggests lightly, the earlier tension fading into the background. “Let's see if you can handle the flame without it draining you.”
Your heart still pounds, the edge of your suspicion dulled but not gone. This is part of it, you realize. A test, maybe... or just another way for her to gauge how far you've come—or how much further she can push you. But despite your doubts, the flame inside you stirs, answering the challenge.
She flicks her wrist, tossing the fireball toward you. Instinctively, you reach out to catch it. As it strikes your palms, a sharp sting courses through your fingers. The fireball shatters, dissipating into the night.
"Ow!" you yelp, shaking your hands. Solena laughs, the sound surprisingly genuine, almost like a bell cutting through the fog of your thoughts. “Not bad for a first try,” she teases, summoning another fireball. “But if you’re going to master this, you need to stop being afraid of it.”
You frown, rubbing your hands. "Afraid? I'm not afraid," you mutter, though a flicker of doubt gnaws at the edges of your resolve. Is that it? Fear? Or is it simply that you don't yet understand this power—or what it demands of you?
She tosses the fireball again, and this time, you focus. You reach out, trying to mimic her fluid motion, the way she seems to coax the flame rather than command it. The fireball lands in your hands, its warmth pulsing in your palms. It feels alive, writhing and resisting your grip, like a caged animal testing its bars. You hesitate, but then, with a shallow breath, you toss it back.
Solena catches it effortlessly, her grin widening. "Good," she says, her eyes gleaming, though you sense she's watching you closely, analyzing your every movement. "You're starting to understand. It's not about control. It's about trust."
Trust? The word sinks into you, mingling with your doubts. Trust the fire? Trust her? What does that even mean? But as you catch the fireball again, feeling it pulse between your fingers, you begin to see—just a glimmer. This isn’t about overpowering the flame; it’s about flowing with it.
You continue the game, the fireball passing back and forth. Each time it stings less, burns less, as if responding to your growing confidence. The flame ceases to be an adversary and instead becomes an extension of your will. Solena’s encouragement is soft, measured, her eyes never leaving you.
Finally, you catch the fireball and hold it without letting it shatter. A surge of triumph rushes through you, momentarily washing away the confusion and suspicion. You look up, and for a second, you see something in Solena's eyes—pride, but also... relief?
"See? You're getting it," she says, her voice steady, though there's an edge beneath it. "Fear will only chain the magic inside you."
You glance down at the flame in your hand, feeling it coil within, obedient yet fierce. For the first time, you manage a small smile. "I think I'm starting to understand," you admit, though wariness still lingers, tangled with the thrill of power.
“Good,” she replies, her tone suddenly more serious. “You’re going to need that understanding for what’s to come.”
A chill runs through you at her words. "What's to come?" you start to ask, but before the question fully forms, the ground beneath you trembles. The beach falls eerily silent, the joy of the moment vanishing like smoke on the wind, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.
Solena’s expression hardens, her smile fading. She raises her hand, a fiery shield forming around you both. “Something’s wrong,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you.
The ground shakes again, more violently this time. The air fills with the sound of crackling energy. Before you can react, there’s a deafening explosion. The door of her shack bursts open, and the force sends you and Solena sprawling backward.
A wave of heat and smoke pours from the tiny doorway, engulfing the beach in chaos.
“Erazon, stay with me!” Solena’s voice pierces through the noise, sharp and commanding. She grabs your arm, pulling you to your feet with surprising strength, guiding you away from the burning wreckage.
The world tilts and trembles, as if on the verge of collapse. The echoes of the explosion ring in your ears, but Solena’s grip on your arm anchors you, pulling you back from the edge of panic.
You turn to look at the shack. Its exterior appears untouched, still calm against the dark night. But the memory of the blast inside tells you something has gone terribly wrong.
“What... what was that?” you manage to gasp, your voice strained and shaky.
Solena doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes sweep the surroundings, scanning for something unseen. When she finally speaks, her voice is low and controlled. “We need to get to Carlin.”
The weight of the situation crashes down on you, replacing any fleeting comfort you felt. There’s no going back now. “Before we go...” Solena glances back at the shack, a shadow crossing her face. “Grab your spellbook. Quickly.”
You nod, not needing further explanation. Sprinting toward the shack, you brace yourself for what you might find inside. The room, once filled with warmth and a faint sense of wonder, is now a chaotic mess. The blue flames of the fireplace have been snuffed out, and the air is thick with acrid smoke.
Your gaze falls to the spot where you left your spellbook. A chill runs through you at the sight—ashes and charred remains of a robe are scattered around it. It looks like someone, or something, tried to tamper with the book and paid the price.
You freeze, your mind racing. What happened here? Who—or what—tried to interfere with your spellbook? The implications are unnerving, and the sight of the ashes sends a wave of dread through you.
Snatching the spellbook, you clutch it to your chest. Its familiar weight offers a mix of reassurance and dread. Whatever power this book holds, it’s clear now that it’s far more dangerous than you ever realized.
You hurry back outside. Solena is waiting, her expression tight, eyes fixed on you. “Did you get it?”
You nod, holding up the book. “Yes, but... there were ashes around it, like someone tried to touch it and... burned.”
Her eyes narrow, a flicker of something unreadable crossing them. “The book must be bound to you. Whoever tried to interfere likely paid the price. We’ll need to be more careful.”
With a swift motion, she raises her wand. Tracing a pattern in the air, she mutters an incantation. A shimmering portal forms before you, its edges rippling like water. “Hold on to me, Erazon. We need to move, now.”
You nod, your heart hammering in your chest. There’s no time to question her. She grabs your hand, her grip firm and steady, and steps into the portal, pulling you along.
The world blurs into a whirlwind of colors and sounds. It feels as though you’re being stretched and compressed all at once. You cling to her hand, the only solid thing in the storm of magic swirling around you.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it ends. The world snaps back into focus, and you find yourself standing on the familiar black-tiled floor of the sorcerers' guild.
“We’ll be safe here,” Solena says softly, her voice calm and steady. “For now.”
You take a deep breath, letting her words sink in. And for the first time since this ordeal began, you allow yourself to believe her.