Now, I look forward to Valen handing me that cup of strong, bitter tea before we begin—before we dive into another piece of the past.
For weeks now, Valen’s lessons have pushed me deeper into the heart of elemental magics. Not just how to wield it—but howto understand it. To feel it. To let it become a part of me instead of something I simply command.
I used to think of magics as fire—wild and consuming, impossible to control unless you were born to it. But fire is only one piece of the world’s balance.
Fire is rage, but also warmth. Destruction, but also life. It can burn everything down, or it can be the light that keeps the darkness at bay. It’s no wonder the Fire Clan values control above all else. Without it, fire is chaos. But with it? It’s power.
Water is relentless while also patient. It carves through mountains over centuries, just as easily as it can sweep away entire villages in a single storm. It can be gentle, healing—but it can also drown. Water is never still. Even in a frozen lake, the currents move beneath the surface.
Air is safety; freedom to move. It’s lightness. I never before knew the joy of wind whipping around me, bending to my will. It carries the storms. Whisper or howl. Lift me higher, make me faster, give me breath. In a fight, a well-placed gust can throw an enemy off balance long before they strike.
Earth is steady, strong, unmoving—until it isn’t. The ground beneath my feet is a force that cannot be rushed or bent to will. It listens. It waits. It is patient in a way I have never been and struggle to be. But when I let myself sink into it, when I let it anchor me, I understand why earth wielders are unshakable.
It is incredible—terrifying, almost—that I can not just wield, but channel them all. Most people go their whole lives mastering only one element, and here I stand, holding all four in my hands. It should be impossible.
Valen says magics are more than just power. They are a language. And I’m finally learning to listen.
The Fire Clan is first into battle, the last to fall. The warriors who have led every major war in history, who claim their place not by birthright alone, but by proving they are strong enough tohold it.
Strength is everything in the Fire Clan. It is their currency, their law, their right to rule. Their Warlord isn’t just a leader; they’re a warrior, a strategist, a commander who must fight for their place. If they are weak, they will be challenged.
I don’t know if I admire that or if I fear it. Maybe both.
It was the Warlord who led the final charge in the Shadow Wars. He was the one who rallied the clans, forcing them to stand together when the realm was falling apart. And when the Shadow Forces were finally sealed away, it was the Fire Clan who remained on the front lines ensuring the darkness did not rise again.
They don’t just fight for themselves. They fight for the realm. For survival. They have the drive, resources, and organization to bring together the best fighters of all the Clans.
That kind of responsibility, that weight—it’s staggering. Because of this new knowledge, I start to see Thane differently. His discipline, his unwavering focus, the way he carries himself like he has no choice but to be unshakable—it all makes sense now. It isn’t just who he is.
It’s what hehasto be.
The thought unsettles me. Because what kind of life is that? To carry so much, to bear the expectations of an entire realm, to have no room to be anything else—anyone else. It isn’t just a duty. It’s a cage.
And for the first time, I feel something close to sorrow for him.
There are no second chances in war. And that’s what the Fire Clan has always been preparing for. The next fight. The next war. The next time the realm needs them to burn so that others may survive. The Warlord holds absolute command over their warriors, armies, and people.
And when bonded with a dragon? That is something elseentirely.
Fire Wielders are already feared, already powerful. They can summon sparks, call embers to their hands, sense heat lingering in the air long after a fire has died. But it is nothing compared to what they become once they bond with a dragon. Fire at that level is not just an element—it’s alive. It’s rage and hunger—a power that cannot be controlled by physical strength alone.
Only those chosen by dragons—those whose fire is strong enough, whose will is unbreakable, whose very blood has been forged in battle—are granted the right to channel. Dragon-bonded Fire Wielders are the wildfire that clears the battlefield.
They do not just summon flames; they become them. They can ignite their entire bodies in fire without burning. It takes tremendous will, and the transformation only lasts seconds, but when it happens, they become the inferno. A living flame that no blade can pierce.
Fire Wielders can summon flames so intense they burn blue, white, hotter than any natural fire. The kind of fire that does not just consume flesh but melts steel, reduces stone to nothing but ash. But it only lasts for a few seconds because it takes so much energy.
And they are not alone. Because once bonded—and this is true for all clans—a dragon is more than a mount. A dragon is an extension of their soul. They feel one another’s rage, one another’s pain.
I’ve never lived in a world where strength was everything. Growing up on a farm near a small village, hard work and kindness meant more than dominance and war. No one fought to rule, no one had to prove they deserved to exist.
But in the Fire Clan? You take your place, or someone takes it from you. I don’t know if I could ever be like them. I don’t want to be. But if I am to survive—if I am to become something more than a girl grasping at a power she doesn’t understand—then Ihave no choice but to learn. Because fire does not wait.
Water is not soft. I used to think it was. That it was gentle, that it gave—but water doesn’t give. It takes. It carves through stone, it drowns without mercy, it wears away mountains one drop at a time until nothing remains but sand. Water is also life.
That is the Water Clan.
They are the seers of fate and the keepers of prophecy. It was the Water Clan seers who first saw the Spiritborn coming.
