The chamber pulsed with ancient energy, its very walls alive with the history and power of the Emberheart lineage. The swirling fires that filled the air were not just flames—they were a manifestation of centuries of power, burning in different hues, each one a test of strength, endurance, and will.
In the center, surrounded by the blazing heat, stood Irina. Her body was drenched in sweat, her muscles trembling from the exertion, but her mind was focused, her eyes narrowed in determination.
The white fire of the chamber, the highest and most fearsome level of flame, crackled before her, its light casting eerie shadows across her face.
The burning sensation gnawed at her skin, as if every inch of her body was being seared by the flames. But there was no retreat in her. She had endured this pain for days now, and though it still hurt—though every breath felt like inhaling fire—she could feel the difference.
