### **Arc 1, Chapter 7: The Weight of Power**
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The morning air in Lysara is cool and refreshing, but my mind is far from calm. The events of the previous day still linger in my thoughts, haunting every step I take. The visions, the battlefield, the shadowed figure—it all felt too real. And now, Elara's words echo in my head: *"You're not the first to experience them."* That realization—that I'm not alone in this—both comforts and disturbs me.
As I walk through the city, heading toward the Guardian quarters, I can't help but notice the people around me. Merchants setting up their stalls, children playing in the narrow alleys, guards patrolling the streets with their weapons ready. Life continues as if the Veilborn, the threat beyond the walls, are a distant memory. But they're not. I can feel it. The darkness is closer than anyone realizes.
And then there's me. I'm supposed to be a Guardian, one of the protectors of this city, but I barely understand my own powers. The fire inside me is unpredictable, wild. I was lucky it obeyed me during that fight, but what if next time it doesn't? What if it burns everything around me, including the people I care about?
I arrive at the training grounds, where several other Guardians are already sparring. Their movements are fluid, precise—years of experience honed into deadly skill. Watching them, I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. I'm not like them. I wasn't born into this world, raised to fight like they were. I'm just… an outsider. A stranger in a strange land.
Before I can dwell on that thought, Kael Draven steps onto the field. His dark hair is tied back, his armor gleaming under the morning sun. He's speaking with a few of the other Guardians, giving instructions for the day's training. When he spots me, his expression shifts—cold and calculating.
"Valen," he calls out, his voice carrying across the grounds.
I straighten my posture, bracing myself for whatever is about to come. Kael walks over, his eyes scanning me as if searching for something. "You've been quiet lately. Keeping to yourself."
"I've had a lot to think about," I reply, trying to keep my tone even.
Kael narrows his eyes, clearly not satisfied with my answer. "We don't have the luxury of brooding over our problems. Not when the Veilborn are out there, getting stronger every day."
I bite back a retort, knowing that he's right. But it's not just the Veilborn that weigh on my mind. It's everything—my powers, the visions, the mystery of who I am and why I'm here.
Kael steps closer, his voice lowering so only I can hear. "I heard about what happened in the forest. You used fire magic."
I tense at his words. I wasn't expecting him to find out so soon, but nothing escapes Kael's attention. "Yeah," I admit. "It happened."
"Care to explain how?" he asks, his tone sharp.
I don't know how to explain it, not even to myself. "I don't know. It just… happened."
Kael's expression hardens. "Magic doesn't just 'happen,' Valen. It requires control, discipline. You can't afford to be reckless."
"I wasn't reckless," I snap, frustration bubbling up. "I did what I had to do."
"And what happens when you lose control?" Kael counters, his voice cold. "What happens when your power turns on you, or worse—on those around you?"
His words hit harder than I'd like to admit. I want to argue, to defend myself, but deep down, I know he's right. I don't fully understand my powers, and that makes me dangerous—not just to myself, but to everyone around me.
Before I can respond, Kael turns and gestures toward the sparring ring. "Let's see what you've got. If you're going to use magic in the field, you'd better be able to control it."
I hesitate for a moment, but there's no point in arguing. I need to prove that I'm not a liability—that I can control the fire inside me. I step into the ring, my heart pounding in my chest.
Kael doesn't give me a chance to catch my breath. The moment I'm in position, he attacks—quick, calculated strikes with his sword. I barely manage to block the first blow, stumbling back as the force of his attack reverberates through my body. He's faster than I expected, his movements precise and deliberate.
"Focus, Valen," Kael growls as he swings again, forcing me to dodge. "You're not fighting some random Veilborn out there. You're fighting me."
I grit my teeth and raise my sword, trying to match his speed. But every time I move, he's one step ahead, predicting my actions before I even make them. It's frustrating, like trying to fight against a shadow.
In the back of my mind, I can feel the fire stirring, itching to be released. It wants to burn, to consume, but I hold it back. I can't lose control. Not here. Not now.
Kael lands a hard strike against my side, knocking me off balance. "You're holding back," he says, his voice full of disdain. "If you don't give everything you've got, you're already dead."
His words cut deep. I know he's testing me, pushing me to see what I'm capable of. But I'm not sure I can give him the answer he's looking for.
He lunges again, and this time I can't hold back. The fire surges forward, my body reacting on instinct. I summon a small burst of flame, just enough to force him back. It crackles in my hand, controlled but fierce.
Kael's eyes widen for a split second, but he doesn't falter. He swings his sword, cutting through the flames with ease. "That's more like it," he mutters, his tone grudgingly approving.
But the fire doesn't stop. It's hungry, demanding more. I feel it pulling at me, threatening to consume everything if I don't reign it in. Panic rises in my chest as the flames grow hotter, more intense.
*No. Not now.*
I try to force the fire back, to calm it, but it's like trying to hold back a storm. My vision blurs, the world around me consumed by heat and light. I hear Kael shouting something, but his voice is distant, drowned out by the roar of the flames.
Just when I think I'm about to lose control completely, a sharp pain shoots through my arm. I cry out, the fire vanishing in an instant. When my vision clears, I see Kael standing over me, his sword pressed against my arm—just enough to break my focus, to snap me out of whatever trance I was in.
I'm on my knees, gasping for breath, the heat still lingering on my skin. Kael lowers his sword, his expression unreadable.
"You're not ready," he says, his voice low but firm. "Not until you learn to control that."
I nod, too shaken to argue. He's right. I thought I had it under control, but the fire—it's more powerful than I realized. More dangerous.
Kael turns away, sheathing his sword. "If you want to survive out there, Valen, you need to master your power. Otherwise, it'll consume you. And the people around you."
I watch him walk away, the weight of his words sinking in. The fire inside me is a gift, but it's also a curse. If I can't control it, if I can't learn to wield it without losing myself, then I'm not just a danger to myself—I'm a danger to everyone.
As I sit there in the dust, the pendant around my neck feels heavier than ever. The visions, the fire, my past… it's all connected. But I still don't know how.
I need answers. And I need them soon.
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**End of Chapter 7**