It doesn’t vanish. Itrecoils.
It curls around him like an animal recognizing something greater than itself—then retreats. The fire shrinks. Pulls inward. Fades into embers—then ash.
Smoke rises. The heat vanishes.
Silence.
I tremble, staring at my hands. I had done it. Not perfectly. Not easily.
And I almost killed Valen.
But I wielded fire. Well sort of . . . more like it wielded me.
I lift my gaze to Thane—my breath uneven. His eyes are already on me, filled with something I can’t name.
Valen steps forward, silent for a long moment. Then: “Now we train.”
His voice is quiet—but it lands like a promise.
“Because you, Amara . . . ” His gaze burns. “You were never just an Earth Wielder.”
Smoke lingers. It curls from the scorched ground, winding upward. The fire is gone, but its echo remains.
And so does the weight of their stares. I don’t turn to face the soldiers gathered at the edge of the field, but Ifeelthem. Unease. Caution.
Soldiers keeping their distance now—just a few steps farther back. Hands twitch near weapons they know won’t matter. Eyes wide. Faces tight.
My stomach knots.
Lyra steps forward first. Arms crossed. She tilts her head, glancing from the scorched earth to me. Then smirks.
“Well,” she says dryly. “That was . . . dramatic.”
She exhales through her nose, shaking her head. “You really don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
The tension cracks, just slightly.
Garrick whistles low, dragging a hand through his hair. “I take it back,” he says. “You don’t need wings.” He grins—wide, crooked. “That waswild.”
A few uneasy chuckles ripple through the crowd, but no one truly relaxes. Because while they may admire what they saw, they don’t trust it—they don’t trustme.
Valen exhales, cutting through the silence.
“No one was hurt.” His voice is calm, but it lands like a warning. No one was hurt.But they could have been.
He turns to the soldiers, his tone hardening.
“The training is over for today.”
It isn’t a suggestion.
A few of them hesitate, glancing at me. Then, one by one, they turn. Some leave quickly. Others linger—watching, whispering. I can feel their thoughts.
Too powerful. Unstable. Dangerous.
That thought tightens around my chest like a vice.
I drop my hands, curling my fingers into fists, trying to ignore the way my skin still tingles—as if the fire is still there, just waiting to be called again.
