Esteria set her bag down carefully, her gaze lingering on the flickering patterns of light dancing across the walls. The warmth of the room was almost oppressive, yet it carried a strange sense of comfort—like a silent promise of resilience, of transformation.
She took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling. She wasn't here just to train; she was here to sharpen herself into a weapon, to turn the pain of betrayal and loss into fuel for her vengeance. Gladious's condescension, the trials ahead, even the wary eyes of the Fire Nation's residents—all of it was just another fire she'd endure.
Her hands brushed against the bed's edge as she sat down, feeling the smooth, almost glass-like texture of the lava stone. A memory of the Water Palace briefly surfaced—its cool, serene waters that seemed so far removed from the fiery intensity around her now. Her fingers curled into fists. This isn't the time for nostalgia, she reminded herself.
