The forest surrounding Firyngrove whispered with the sounds of nightfall. Crickets chirped in the underbrush, their melody weaving through the soft rustle of leaves in the wind. The air carried the faint, earthy scent of the woods, mingled with the lingering trace of smoke from Aelin's training earlier that day. Despite the tranquility, a tension crackled in the air, and Aelin couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.
She sat cross-legged near the edge of the grove, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames of the small campfire she had lit. The fire danced in the night, a living thing that seemed to beckon her, calling her closer. She felt it thrumming inside her chest, a low, steady pulse that never truly left her. The Flame was always there now, a constant presence in her life. It was both comforting and unnerving.
Kaelor had retired for the evening, leaving her to reflect on the day's lessons. She had made progress, yes, but she could still feel the weight of her failures, the moments when the fire had threatened to consume her. The scars on the pillar from earlier training remained vivid in her mind, a reminder of how close she had come to losing control.
She reached out a hand toward the campfire, letting her fingers hover just above the flames. The fire responded instantly, its flickers stretching upward, as if reaching for her. Aelin closed her eyes, focusing on the heat, the energy. She could feel the fire's hunger, its desire to grow, to consume.
"You can't hide from it, you know," a voice said softly behind her, startling her.
Aelin whirled around, her heart leaping to her throat. Kaelor stood at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. He looked both weary and amused.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he said, stepping closer. "But I could sense your unease from the lodge. You're projecting."
"Projecting?" Aelin asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "What does that mean?"
Kaelor gestured toward the flames. "The fire responds to your emotions, Aelin. It feeds on them. When you're calm, it's calm. When you're tense…" He let his words trail off, raising an eyebrow.
Aelin glanced back at the campfire, noticing for the first time how high the flames had risen, their edges burning a fierce gold. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to relax. Slowly, the fire settled, shrinking into a more controlled, subdued glow.
"You see?" Kaelor said, sitting down across from her. "The Flame is a mirror. It reflects what you carry inside. That's why balance is so important."
Aelin frowned, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Balance, control, patience… You keep saying those things, but what if I can't find them? What if I'm just not… enough?"
Kaelor's gaze softened. "You're enough, Aelin. But the truth is, the Flame doesn't demand perfection. It doesn't ask for a flawless wielder. It asks for honesty. You can't lie to the Flame. If you try to suppress what you feel, it will find those emotions and amplify them."
Aelin stared into the fire, her chest tightening. Honesty. The word hung in the air like a challenge. She had spent so much of her life building walls around herself, protecting her heart from pain, from fear. The idea of opening herself fully—to the fire, to Kaelor, to anyone—was terrifying.
"What if what I feel isn't… good?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if it's anger, or fear, or hate?"
Kaelor leaned forward, his expression earnest. "The Flame doesn't care if your emotions are good or bad. It cares that they're real. Anger can be a powerful fuel. So can fear. Even hate, when understood, has its place. But if you let those emotions control you, if you act without understanding them—that's when the fire becomes dangerous."
Aelin looked at him, searching his face for answers. "You talk about the Flame like it's alive. Like it has a mind of its own."
Kaelor nodded slowly. "In a way, it does. The Flame is ancient, older than this forest, older than most of the world's kingdoms. It carries the memories of all who have wielded it before you. It's a force of creation and destruction, yes, but it's also a teacher. If you're willing to listen."
Aelin shivered, despite the warmth of the fire. The idea of the Flame carrying the memories of others—other wielders, other lives—was unsettling. What had it seen? What had it burned? And what would it demand of her in return for its power?
"I don't know if I'm ready for that," she admitted, her voice trembling. "For everything the Flame wants from me."
Kaelor's expression was kind, but firm. "No one is ever ready, Aelin. Not fully. But readiness isn't what matters. What matters is that you try. That you face the fire, even when it terrifies you. That's what makes you worthy."
The words settled in her chest, heavy but not unwelcome. She turned back to the campfire, watching the flames as they flickered and danced. For the first time, she saw them not as a threat, but as a reflection of herself—a force of chaos and beauty, of destruction and rebirth.
Kaelor stood, brushing dirt from his hands. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll start working on channeling the Flame into specific forms. You're going to need to learn how to create barriers, shields, even weapons."
Aelin's heart skipped at the mention of weapons, but she nodded. "Okay."
He hesitated, looking at her for a long moment before speaking again. "One more thing, Aelin. Remember that the Flame isn't just about what you can do with it. It's about what you choose not to do. Restraint is just as powerful as action."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the crackling fire.
Aelin sat there for a long time, staring into the flames. She thought about Kaelor's words, about the lessons she had learned, about the choices she would have to make. The Flame inside her felt alive, pulsing with quiet energy, waiting.
She clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She didn't have all the answers yet, but she was determined to find them. The Shattered Order was out there, growing stronger by the day, and she couldn't afford to falter. The Flame had chosen her for a reason, and she would not let it down.
The fire burned brighter, its glow reflecting in her determined eyes. Aelin was ready to face whatever came next.
The next morning, the forest was alive with the crispness of dawn. Dew clung to the leaves, and the air carried a biting chill that hinted at the approach of winter. Aelin stood in the training grounds of Firyngrove, surrounded by the dense canopy of trees that framed the clearing. The golden light of the rising sun filtered through the leaves, casting long shadows across the earth.
Kaelor was already there, his silhouette outlined against the pale morning light. His usual calm demeanor was present, but there was a new intensity in his gaze that made Aelin's stomach twist with unease. Today would not be a simple day of practice.
"Ready yourself," Kaelor said, his voice sharper than usual. He gestured to a series of targets set up at various distances in the clearing—stone pillars similar to the one she had trained on before, but smaller and spaced unevenly.
Aelin nodded, flexing her fingers and taking a deep breath. The Flame stirred within her, a steady warmth that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She had spent hours the previous night meditating, trying to deepen her connection to it. She hoped it would be enough.
Kaelor walked past her, his movements deliberate and precise. "Today, you'll learn to channel the Flame into shapes. It's not enough to summon it—you must learn to mold it, to focus it into tools and defenses. Start with something small. A flame dagger. Visualize it, and let the Flame respond."
Aelin frowned, focusing on her hands. She closed her eyes, imagining the fire taking form—a blade of pure flame, sharp and deadly. She could feel the heat building, the energy swirling within her.
When she opened her eyes, a thin streak of fire extended from her palm, flickering weakly before sputtering out. Frustration welled up inside her, but she forced herself to stay calm.
"Again," Kaelor said, his tone unyielding.
Aelin tried once more, this time focusing harder on the details—the length of the blade, the curve of its edge, the way the flames would coil along its surface. The fire responded more readily this time, forming a crude, unstable shape that vaguely resembled a dagger.
Kaelor stepped closer, his sharp gaze analyzing her work. "Better. But the Flame is still resisting you. Why?"
"I'm not sure," Aelin admitted, her voice tinged with frustration.
Kaelor tilted his head, studying her. "You're trying to impose your will on it. That won't work. The Flame isn't a servant—it's a partner. You must listen to it as much as it listens to you."
Aelin frowned, unsure what he meant. How could she listen to fire?
Kaelor continued, his tone softening. "The Flame is alive, Aelin. It has a voice. If you close yourself off, you'll never hear it. Open your mind. Feel its presence, its rhythm. Let it guide you."
She closed her eyes again, this time letting her thoughts drift. She focused on the warmth inside her, the way it moved, the way it pulsed. Slowly, she began to sense something—a faint hum, a vibration deep within her.
It wasn't a voice, exactly, but it felt like a presence. A consciousness. The Flame was alive, just as Kaelor had said, and it was trying to communicate with her.
The realization sent a shiver down her spine.
When she opened her eyes again, the fire in her hand had stabilized. The blade was no longer crude and unstable—it was sharp, precise, and gleaming with golden light.
Kaelor nodded, a rare smile touching his lips. "Well done. Now, hold it."
The effort of maintaining the blade was immense. It felt as though the Flame was testing her, pushing back against her control. Sweat beaded on her brow as she clenched her jaw, refusing to let the fire falter.
"Good," Kaelor said. "Now, strike the target."
Aelin turned toward the nearest pillar, her flame dagger glowing brightly in her hand. She lunged forward, slashing the blade across the stone. The fire sliced through the pillar like a knife through butter, leaving a trail of molten rock in its wake.
She staggered back, the blade dissolving into sparks as exhaustion washed over her. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, but a sense of triumph swelled within her. She had done it.
But Kaelor wasn't finished.
"Again," he said, his tone unwavering.
Aelin's shoulders slumped. "I just—"
"Again," Kaelor repeated, his eyes locked on hers. "The Shattered Order won't give you time to rest, Aelin. You must be prepared for anything. They'll strike when you're at your weakest. Now, again."
His words hit like a blow, but they ignited a spark of defiance within her. She straightened, drawing on the last reserves of her strength. The Flame stirred once more, and she summoned another blade, this one burning brighter than the first.
She struck the pillar again, and again, each blow more precise than the last. The fire flowed through her, guiding her movements, filling her with a sense of power she had never known.
By the time Kaelor called for her to stop, she was drenched in sweat, her muscles trembling from the effort. She collapsed to her knees, the fire within her flickering weakly but still present.
Kaelor crouched beside her, his expression unreadable. "You've made progress. But you're still holding back."
"I gave it everything I had," Aelin protested, her voice hoarse.
"No," Kaelor said, his tone firm. "You gave it everything you thought you could spare. There's a difference. The Flame requires total commitment, Aelin. If you hesitate, even for a moment, it will cost you."
Aelin glared at him, anger bubbling to the surface. "And what if it costs me too much? What if I lose myself completely?"
Kaelor's eyes softened, and for the first time, Aelin saw a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. "That's a risk we all take. But if you don't learn to trust the Flame—and yourself—you'll lose far more than your life. You'll lose the chance to make a difference."
The weight of his words settled heavily on her chest. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. The Shattered Order wouldn't wait for her to be ready. They would come, and when they did, she needed to be prepared.
Aelin clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. "I won't let them win."
Kaelor nodded, standing and offering her a hand. "Good. Then let's keep going."