The next day, Jason continued his training as he focused intently on the flames dancing around his outstretched hand. Behind him, Grandpa Mark stood with his arms crossed, observing silently. His expression was calm, but his thoughts churned beneath the surface.
"Jason's growth is extraordinary," Mark thought, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "But there's something peculiar about his energy. It's… different. Stronger than it should be. I wonder why…"
Jason exhaled sharply, extinguishing the flames and dropping to the ground to catch his breath. He leaned back on his palms, staring up at the sky as Grandpa Mark approached and sat down beside him.
"You're doing great, Jason."
Jason gazed at the horizon, his eyes clouded with thought. Finally, he asked, "Grandpa, have you ever wondered what the world would be like if everyone had powers?"
Mark raised an eyebrow, stroking his chin as he considered the question. "Hmm, not really. But a world like that would certainly be… interesting."
Jason nodded slowly, his gaze distant. "Yeah. People wouldn't have to live in fear. They could protect themselves. They wouldn't have to lose the people they care about…"
Mark's hand paused mid-stroke, and his face softened. He let out a long sigh. "Jason, I know a part of you hasn't forgiven me for keeping the truth from you. And you're right—it's my fault she's gone."
Jason's fists clenched as Mark continued. "I thought that training you, making you stronger, was my way of making amends. A way to redeem myself for the choices I made. But no matter how hard I try, I've come to realize… nothing I do will ever heal the pain of losing her."
Jason turned to face his grandfather, his expression heavy with sorrow. "We're both carrying that same guilt, aren't we? That feeling one has, when they know things could have turned out differently. It hurts so much, Grandpa."
Mark stared at him as he continues. "But I know Stacey wouldn't want us to live like this—trapped by our regrets. She'd want us to move forward, to use the gifts we've been given to make the world a better place. To bring joy to others, even when things feel hopeless."
Mark stared at him for a long moment, his weathered face etched with grief. Slowly, Jason extended his hand. "Let's keep moving forward, Grandpa. For Stacey."
A faint, genuine smile broke through Mark's solemn expression as he reached out and clasped Jason's hand. "For Stacey," he echoed.
For a brief moment, the two of them sat in silence, their hands locked in a quiet pact. Then Mark stood and stretched. "Alright, enough of this sentimental talk. There's a new trick I think you're ready to learn."
Jason's eyes lit up with curiosity as he stood up. "Alright, I'm listening."
Mark folded his arms, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "It's called The Ignite. A technique that lets you set anything on fire without touching them."
Jason's jaw dropped. "No way! Is that even possible?"
"Of course it is," Mark said with a chuckle. "It's especially useful against opponents with strong defenses. With Ignite, you can strike without needing to get close."
Jason grinned, excitement buzzing through him. "Alright, let's do this! I'm ready."
Mark gestured toward a nearby tree. "We'll start with that. Stretch your hand toward the tree, close your eyes, and focus."
Jason did as instructed, extending his hand and shutting his eyes.
"Now," Mark said in a calm, steady tone, "picture the tree in your mind. Feel the heat building inside you, and think of the tree bursting into flames."
Jason's breathing deepened as he focused. Slowly, the tree shimmered, and its bark began to glow faintly. After a while, the tree burst into flames.
Jason's eyes flew open, astonishment written all over his face. "I… I did it! I actually did it!"
Mark clapped his hands together, beaming. "Well done, my boy! That's impressive for your first attempt."
Jason looked at his handiwork, pride swelling in his chest. "Thanks, Grandpa. What's next?"
Mark glanced at the sky, the afternoon sun shining. His expression turned thoughtful. "Let's head back. It's time."
Jason turned to him, his excitement fading into curiosity. "Time for what?"
Mark gave him a mysterious smile. "You'll see soon enough."
Back at the kingdom, Jason and Grandpa Mark made their way to a small, modest house tucked into a quiet corner of the town. Mark carried a carefully wrapped package in his hands. He knocked gently on the wooden door, and a young woman opened it with a soft, welcoming smile.
"Welcome," she said. "You're just in time."
They stepped inside the humble home, the warm glow of a hearth illuminating the small space. Jason's gaze settled on an elderly woman lying on a simple bed, her breaths shallow and labored. She coughed violently, causing Jason to give off a worried expression.
Mark approached her bedside, unwrapping the package to reveal a small, beautifully crafted cake. He knelt beside her and offered it with a kind smile.
"Here you go, Sarah," he said gently. "I made it just the way you like."
The old woman's trembling hands reached out to take the cake. A smile spread across her face as she took a small bite, savoring the taste. "Thank you, Mark," she whispered, "I figured… if I were to go, at least let me have one last taste of your baking. It always has a way… of warming my heart."
Jason watched the scene quietly, his heart heavy yet comforted by the love and care in the room.
Sarah coughed again, harsher this time. The young woman at her side clutched her hand tightly, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's okay, Grandma. You can rest now."
Sarah smiled one last time, her gaze lingering on Mark and Jason, before closing her eyes. Her breathing slowed, then stopped. The room was filled with silence, save for the soft sobs of her granddaughter.
Mark placed a steadying hand on the young woman's shoulder, his own eyes filled with quiet sorrow. Jason sat still, his hands clenched, feeling the weight of the moment.
Later, as they stepped outside, the young woman walked them to the door. Her face was tear-streaked, but her gratitude shone through. "Thank you both so much," she said. "She refused to leave until she had one of your cakes again."
Mark nodded. "Sarah's always been stubborn, hasn't she? I'm just glad I could be here to see her off in peace."
Mark gave the young woman a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself. If you need anything, you know where to find me."
She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her sorrow, and waved as they walked away.
On their way back to the bakery, Jason broke the silence. "You have a way of making people happy, Grandpa," he said with a smile. Then, placing his arm around Mark's shoulders, he added, "Let's keep baking."
Mark chuckled. "Always, kiddo. Always."
Back at the bakery, Jason stood over the counter, kneading dough and mixing ingredients with a focus that was both therapeutic and joyful. The scent of freshly baked bread and cakes filled the space as he wore a smile on his face.
Suddenly, the door to the bakery creaked open, and the cheerful atmosphere shifted. Two figures stepped inside, clad in dark, travel-worn robes. Jason felt an immediate wave of energy emanating from them.
Mark wiped his hands on his apron and stepped forward with his usual warmth. "Welcome to our bakery! What can we do for you?"
The figures pulled back their hoods. The first was a tall man with dark skin, black hair, and glowing blue eyes. The second was a young girl, her brown ponytail hair cascading over her shoulders, her yellow, glowing eyes sharp and enigmatic.
The man spoke first, his voice deep and steady. "We're travelers from another continent. We've come looking for someone called Marquoid."
Jason and Mark exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued but their guard subtly raised. Mark nodded. "That would be us."
The man's glowing eyes locked onto Jason's, studying him closely. "You," he said after a moment, his tone filled with certainty. "You're an Elementiel, aren't you?"
The girl stepped forward, her gaze meeting his. "So are we."
Jason stared at the pair, his thoughts swirling with questions, his amazement growing by the second. "Wait, what?!"