The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over the volcanic terrain. Sara stood at the edge of a molten river, frustration etched across her face as she struggled to summon her divine energy. She had been practicing for hours, and while progress was evident, her control remained unrefined.
Ignatius watched her from a distance, his arms crossed over his chest. He could see the determination in her every movement, but he also noticed the tension in her posture, the slight wavering of her usually steady resolve.
"You're forcing it," Ignatius called out, walking toward her.
Sara spun around, her golden hair catching the fading light. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm trying to channel my energy, but it keeps slipping away!"
Ignatius stopped a few paces from her, his amber eyes calm and steady. "You're trying too hard to dominate the energy instead of guiding it. Divine energy isn't a tool to be wielded; it's an extension of yourself."
Sara frowned, crossing her arms. "Easy for you to say. You've been doing this for centuries."
He smirked, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "True, but I didn't start off perfect either. Let me help."
Sara hesitated. There was something about Ignatius offering to help that made her heart race—not out of fear, but because of the rare softness in his tone. She nodded, stepping back to allow him closer.
Ignatius gestured for her to sit, and they both sank to the warm ground, the heat radiating from the molten river providing a strange sense of comfort.
"Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice steady.
Sara obeyed, her breathing slowing as she tried to focus.
"Now, feel the energy within you," Ignatius continued. "It's like a flame, small but steady. Don't force it to grow; simply feed it, gently."
Sara furrowed her brow, trying to picture the energy as a flame. At first, it was faint, flickering in and out of her mind's eye. Then, gradually, it grew stronger, more defined.
"I see it," she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder.
"Good," Ignatius said. "Now, let it flow through you. Imagine it spreading, warming you from the inside out."
Sara did as he said, and for the first time, she felt the energy respond—not as something separate, but as a part of her. It coursed through her veins, filling her with a sense of strength and clarity she had never experienced before.
When she opened her eyes, her hands glowed faintly with golden light. She stared at them in awe, a smile breaking across her face.
"I did it!" she exclaimed, turning to Ignatius.
He nodded, his own smile small but genuine. "You did. Now, let's see if you can control it."
Sara jumped to her feet, excitement radiating from her. She focused on the energy, shaping it into a small orb of light that hovered above her palm. It wavered slightly but held steady, its warm glow illuminating the space around them.
"Not bad," Ignatius said, his tone approving.
"Not bad?" Sara repeated, feigning offense. "That's all you've got to say?"
He chuckled, the sound low and rich. "It's a good start. But there's more to cultivation than just summoning energy. You need to learn precision and endurance."
Sara groaned, though her smile remained. "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"
"Of course," he replied, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. "Nothing worth mastering is ever easy."
The two spent the next few hours practicing. Ignatius guided Sara through various exercises, teaching her how to focus her energy into specific forms and maintain it over time. His patience surprised her; he corrected her mistakes without frustration, his instructions clear and precise.
As the night wore on, Sara began to feel the strain of the training. Sweat dripped down her brow, and her energy wavered more frequently.
"Enough for tonight," Ignatius said, stepping forward to steady her as she stumbled.
"But I can keep going," Sara protested, though her exhaustion was evident.
"No, you can't," he replied firmly. "Pushing yourself too far will only hinder your progress. Rest is just as important as practice."
Sara sighed but nodded, allowing him to guide her to a nearby ledge where they both sat. The molten river glowed softly below them, casting flickering shadows across their faces.
"You're a good teacher," Sara said after a moment, her voice quiet.
Ignatius glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "And you're a quick learner."
She smiled, the warmth in his tone easing her fatigue. "Thank you, Ignatius. For helping me."
He looked away, his gaze fixed on the glowing horizon. "You're welcome."
For a while, they sat in silence, the heat of the lava a comforting presence. Sara leaned back, her exhaustion giving way to a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.
"I think I'm starting to understand why you're so good at this," she said, her eyes half-closed.
Ignatius raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. "Oh? And why's that?"
"Because you care," she replied simply, her voice soft but sure.
His smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet surprise. For a moment, he said nothing, the weight of her words settling over him.
"Maybe," he finally said, his tone almost inaudible.
As Sara drifted into a light doze, Ignatius watched her, his expression unreadable. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was something about her determination—and her unwavering belief in him—that stirred a warmth he hadn't felt in centuries.