What is fire to me? I closed my eyes, forcing my breath steady.
Fire is heat. Fire burns. That was the first thought that came to mind.
But no… that was shallow. Too simple. I didn't need what fire was. I needed what fire meant—to me.
I dug deeper, peeling away the surface. Memories rose like sparks in the dark.
My mother's gentle smile. My father's proud gaze. My sister's laughter as she tugged at my sleeve.
Warmth. Fire was warmth—the warmth of family, of belonging, of a home I once had.
Then the memories twisted. My mother's cold eyes. My sister's mocking tone. My father's hand casting me aside. Elara's refusal to believe me.
Rage. Fire was rage—the unending fury that clawed inside me when those I trusted turned their backs.
Another image came. Me, standing alone, the weight of fate pressing down. Yet I did not break. I endured. I looked forward. I carved a path, step by step, toward a future I would claim with my own hands.
Renewal. Fire was renewal—burning away weakness, cleansing me of the chains of my past, leaving behind only resolve.
And finally… fire as chaos. The storm I would unleash upon the world. The proof of my existence.
I would let them see. All of them who mocked me. Betrayed me. Cast me aside.
When the flames rise, my revenge will be the chaos that consumes everything.
Noctharion's voice breaks into my thoughts.
"Kael."
I open my eyes. A fire flickers in front of me, floating in midair.
This fire is different — not the crude little spark I could barely hold before. It feels… stronger. Older. There's weight to it, an intelligence that hums under the heat. It dances and watches, like something alive.
Slow, careful, I reach out and touch it.
The moment my skin meets the flame, it shivers, then flares—brighter, keener—as if pleased. It circles me, leaving trails of light that lick the air and echo the rhythm of my pulse.
Noctharion chuckles low, as if he's been waiting for the show. The fire answers him with a little leap, then settles itself around my hands, patient and expectant.
I can feel it power settling into the hollows the core left, filling something raw and hungry inside me. The sensation is small and huge at once: terrifying, intoxicating, alive.
"It's amazing," I said to Noctharion, feeling the life and power in the little flame.
He laughed. "That's the purest fire in this world, Kael — fire born of pure mana."
"It has its own intelligence," he continued, eyes half-closed. "It's drawn to the hand that commands pure mana. That's why it plays like a child when you touch it."
I watched the small flame dance in my palm. "So… it behaves because it recognizes me?"
"No." He flicked his tail, amused. "Not recognition, exactly. Familiarity. Any element you shape with pure mana will instinctively move like an extension of you. The purer your mana, the more the element answers you — it learns your rhythm, your intent. That's why this little fire listens to you."
"This is your fire, Kael."
Noctharion's deep voice rumbled within me, heavy and commanding.
"Only yours."
The words echoed like a brand against my soul. I could feel the flame inside me—untamed, raw, yet alive.
"You have completed the first step," Noctharion continued, his tone calm yet absolute. "Now, we move to the next. First, you must learn to control the basic elements. Only when your foundation is strong—when you can bend those elements to your will—will I teach you how to command darkness itself."
His voice faded, but the weight of it lingered, like chains of fire wrapping around my heart.
Listening to Noctharion, I lowered my gaze to the flickering flame dancing in my palm.
It swayed and bent, alive and restless.
According to him, I had to master the four basic elements—fire, water, earth, and wind.
Only then… only after truly grasping them, would I be allowed to touch darkness.
My eyes lingered on the flame. It was different—stronger than ordinary fire, brighter, sharper, almost playful. It curled and flared as if testing me
A part of me burned with the desire to see the others.
What would water feel like in my hand? Or earth, heavy and unyielding?
And wind—free, untamed, invisible yet everywhere.
The thought stirred a hunger inside me.
I wanted to see them all.
"So, what's next?" I asked Noctharion, trying to mask the restlessness boiling inside me.
He only smiled—calm, unreadable, the kind of smile that made my unease grow sharper. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth and began to speak.
His voice reached me, steady and deliberate, but my thoughts ran elsewhere.
Whatever he was saying, I knew one thing for certain—what lay ahead wouldn't be easy. It never was. But no matter what came, no matter how heavy the burden, I would face it. I had to.
Two Months Later..
Two more months slipped by, and my power had grown again.
My Strength and Agility had shown clear improvement, though the rest of my stats remained stagnant. I wasn't disappointed—far from it. The higher you climb, the harder it becomes to advance.
From D- to C-, it usually takes two years of relentless training. Only true geniuses can pull it off within a year. Knowing that, my current growth rate was right where I had expected it to be.
After all, I wasn't chasing ranks.
My focus was elsewhere—on sharpening my swordsmanship and perfecting my mana control.
I sat in my room with my eyes closed, four distinct energies hovering around me.
A flicker of fire burned warmly at my side, while beside it a blue sphere of water floated with calm serenity, its cool presence a stark contrast to the flame.
Next to them, a sphere of compressed air spun in constant motion, and beside it a solid mass of earth radiated an unshakable sense of defense.
Four distinct energies floated steadily around me, each moving in perfect rhythm.
A flickering flame burned with a gentle warmth. Beside it, a sphere of water hovered calmly, its cool surface rippling in contrast to fire's restless nature. A compressed ball of wind spun quietly, humming with sharp currents. And next to it, a chunk of earth radiated solidity, unshaken and resolute.
This… this was the result of two relentless months of training.
The first month had been nothing but learning to command each element on its own. Simple in theory, brutal in practice.
The second month, however, was hell. Noctharion forced me to wield two elements together—different natures, opposite flows. Twice the mana, twice the strain, twice the pain. Even holding them for a moment was enough to tear through my focus. I fainted more times than I could count, my body breaking under the mental exhaustion.
But little by little, I endured. From two to three, and finally, to four.
Now… I could command all of them at once.
My control wasn't perfect—sometimes the balance slipped, sometimes the flow shattered—but still, Noctharion's voice echoed in my mind.
"Good enough. More than good enough."
I even learned to shift one element into another. Fire into water, earth into wind. The process was simple in theory, impossibly demanding in practice: breaking the element down into pure mana, then reshaping that mana into something new.
And right now, that was exactly what I was doing—burning flame dissolving into raw mana, before condensing again into the cool sphere of water floating before me.
I was more than satisfied with the progress, but excitement burned deeper than that. What thrilled me most was what came next—because Noctharion himself would teach me how to wield it.
Darkness.