The path to the upper clearing wound through low-hanging branches and patches of moss that glowed faintly in the morning shade. Aelindra walked beside Severin, her steps light, quiet, as if afraid to disturb the peace that settled over the sanctuary like a held breath.
Severin wasn't speaking, but she could feel the shift in him, the slow gathering of something beneath his skin, that muted ember-thrum that always woke with the morning.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
He nodded, though his jaw was tight. "Just… preparing."
"For Arveth?"
"For the part of training no one enjoys watching." He tried to make it sound like a joke, but his voice had a weight to it. Fire-heavy. Memory-heavy.
Aelindra's gaze softened. "Then I'll stay with you. If he allows it."
Severin's steps faltered for half a heartbeat, a brief fracture of vulnerability before he masked it. "I'd like that."
They reached the upper clearing, circular, unusually open, surrounded by pillars of stone marked with runes that hummed faintly even in daylight. Arveth stood in the center, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
"Aelindra. Severin." His voice carried easily. "You're early. Good."
Aelindra dipped her head politely. Severin didn't speak, he didn't need to. Arveth's gaze traced him with the familiarity of someone who had watched him grow, stumble, rise again, break, and keep standing anyway.
"Your control has slipped," Arveth said without preamble. "Not dangerously. But enough."
Severin exhaled slowly. "I know."
"Do you understand why?"
Aelindra glanced at Severin, unsure if she should answer. Arveth shifted his attention to her and nodded once, a rare invitation.
She swallowed. "His dreams."
Arveth's eyes sharpened. "Correct."
Severin shot her an apologetic look. "I didn't want to worry you."
"You didn't," she said, though her voice wavered. "But I could feel it. You don't sleep the same."
Arveth lifted his hand, cutting the conversation neatly. "We begin."
Severin stepped forward.
Aelindra remained behind him, not interfering, simply present.
A quiet strength.
A grounding point.
Arveth gestured, and the runestones around them came alive, glowing in a low, pulsing rhythm that seemed to sync with Severin's heartbeat. The air grew warmer. The light dimmed around the edges.
"First," Arveth continued, "we test restraint." He planted his staff in the center of the clearing and gestured to the small circle of rocks surrounding it. "Stand within this ring. Your flame will respond to thought. Focus, do not act, and it will follow. Fail, and it will punish."
Severin swallowed and stepped into the circle. His hands trembled faintly as he lifted them slightly, testing the air. He could feel the ember-light beneath his skin stir, soft at first, then coiling like a snake waking from slumber.
Aelindra watched, her calm presence brushing against him like a counterbalance. "Breathe," she whispered.
He did, slow and measured, forcing the ember to slow with each exhale. It rose, flickering at the tips of his fingers but refusing to break beyond the circle. Arveth circled him, eyes sharp and unblinking.
"Not bad," the instructor said finally. "You held it. But restraint is not enough. You must also direct."
Severin's pulse quickened. Direct it. He exhaled again, thought carefully, and nudged the flame with intent toward a single stone in the circle. The fire jumped obediently, licking the surface without spilling beyond it.
Aelindra's eyes lit with a tiny smile. "Good," she murmured. "You did it."
Caelan's earlier clumsiness in the lower clearing floated briefly to Severin's mind. The contrast made him grit his teeth. He couldn't afford mistakes, not now, not with the flame so close to him.
⸻
Exercises of Flame and Form.
Arveth handed him two weighted sticks. "Your next trial: control under stress. Every movement has consequence. Do not let the flame act before your mind decides."
Severin's brow furrowed. He raised the staff, feeling the familiar, dangerous hum of the ember beneath his ribs. Every twitch, every flicker, could betray him.
"Begin," Arveth commanded.
He moved first cautiously, sweeping the staff in measured arcs, feeling the ember-light flare in response. At first, it obeyed perfectly, curling around the stick like liquid gold. Then, a stray thought, a memory of fear, of doubt, caused the flame to spike, jumping a foot above the staff. Severin clenched, pulling it back under control.
Aelindra stepped forward, hand hovering near his elbow. Not touching him, just close enough that her presence alone anchored him. "Steady," she whispered.
He nodded subtly, forcing the ember to settle. Slowly, he began a sequence Arveth instructed: sweep, spin, thrust, retreat. With each motion, the flame followed precisely, dancing across the tips of the stick rather than spilling into the clearing. Sweat ran down his temples, and every muscle in his body tensed, but the ember listened.
Arveth circled again, stepping behind Aelindra. "You are improving, Severin," he said flatly. "But control is only part of power. Force, direction, and reaction are your next lesson."
He gestured to a series of clay targets lined along the far side of the clearing. "Hit each. Do not scorch the ground. Do not overshoot. One attempt. One movement per target. Think before you act."
Severin's eyes narrowed. The ember under his skin coiled like a spring. He focused, visualizing each strike. The first shot hissed across the clearing, the ember-light streaking precisely to its target. The clay cracked. Success.
The second shot was slightly high. Severin bit back a curse, drawing in a breath. The ember swirled, rising like a living ribbon, then obeyed, landing with perfect accuracy.
Aelindra's eyes widened in admiration, but she didn't speak. She simply remained near him, her presence steady, reminding him of something other than fear.
He moved through the rest of the targets, each strike more precise than the last. By the final one, the ember gleamed like molten gold, quiet, obedient, resting perfectly in his control.
Arveth nodded, satisfied. "Enough for now. You have earned a moment to rest."
Severin dropped to one knee, chest heaving, ember-light dimming to a faint glow. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension leak from his shoulders.
Aelindra crouched beside him. "You did it," she said softly. Her hand hovered near his arm again, never pressing, but her presence grounding him. "All of it."
"I… I think so," he admitted. He let out a shaky laugh, unbidden. "I didn't burn down the clearing."
"Yet," she teased lightly.
He gave her a faint smile, and for a moment the clearing was quiet, only the sound of the morning wind and distant birds.
_____
"Focus," Arveth instructed. "Not on the fire. On the center of the fire." They were back in the circle.
Severin closed his eyes.
Aelindra watched as subtle sparks began weaving through the air, gathering along Severin's arms, glowing beneath his skin like molten threads. The earth beneath his feet darkened slightly, warmed by something ancient, something inherited.
He inhaled.
The embers pulsed brighter.
"Good," Arveth murmured. "Now hold."
But the moment the word left his mouth, the wind shifted sharply.
Aelindra felt it first, a cold whisper across her shoulders, a shiver that didn't belong in a sanctuary supposedly untouched by threat.
"Arveth…?" she said carefully.
He tensed.
Severin's focus wavered. The embers flickered violently.
"Hold," Arveth repeated, firmer. "Do not let the distraction break your control."
"I'm not…." Severin winced as a flash of heat snapped off him like a whip. "I'm not doing that."
"I know."
The wind shuddered again.
Branches trembled though no breeze touched them.
The sanctuary, the safe place , felt suddenly, impossibly, watched.
Aelindra's heartbeat quickened. "Something's wrong."
Arveth turned his head slightly, listening to the forest the way generals listen to silence on a battlefield.
"I feel it," he said. "A disturbance. Subtle. Not hostile yet."
"Yet?" Aelindra whispered.
But Severin's breath was shaking now , his flames responding instinctively to whatever pressed against the world around them.
"Arveth" he gasped, "if it keeps pushing, I can't"
"Then redirect. Do not suppress. Suppression is what makes it break loose."
Severin grit his teeth, sweat beading at his temple as sparks flared dangerously up his forearms. The runes brightened to compensate. Arveth stepped closer, voice low, steady.
"Severin. Look at her."
He did.
Aelindra didn't move, didn't flinch at the heat. She simply held his gaze, gentle, grounding.
"You're here," she murmured. "Not there. Not in the dream. Here."
Something in Severin steadied.
The fire pulled inward, coiling, controlled.
Just as a voice sounded in the lower clearing, Caelan yelling something about breakfast, Mira yelling back, and the unmistakable thud of Caelan falling over something again.
Arveth exhaled. "Good. The moment's passed."
But Aelindra wasn't so sure.
The wind had stilled.
But the watching sensation remained,
faint,
lingering,
like something had tested the barrier of the sanctuary…
…and simply decided not to push further.
For now.
Severin's fire dimmed to embers once more.
He leaned forward, catching his breath, and Aelindra stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You did well," she whispered.
"Felt like almost losing control," he muttered.
"Control isn't the absence of fear," Arveth said. "It's the decision to hold your ground despite it."
Aelindra smiled faintly. "Then you're already doing it."
And as the forest settled again, Severin felt the truth of that more than the heat still warm beneath his skin.