The flames danced along my skin, red and alive, as if they were a part of me no, as if they had always been there, waiting for the right moment to burst free.
I stared at my hands, watching the fire swirl and flicker like it had a mind of its own. It didn't hurt; instead, it was warm, comforting, even empowering.
"What the hell..." I muttered, mesmerized by the glow. This wasn't like the tiny, timid sparks I'd managed to conjure during training, the ones that fizzled out before they could even reach their target. These flames were bold, untamed, and brimming with raw energy.
Amara tilted her head, her golden eyes narrowing as she observed me. "Are you done admiring yourself, or are you actually going to use it?"
Her words snapped me out of my daze, and I looked up at her, the fire in my chest flaring to match the one around me.
"Oh, I'm going to use it," I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
I extended my hand, willing the flames to obey me. They coiled and twisted, forming a blazing whip that I lashed toward Amara with everything I had.
She didn't move.
The whip struck her chest, the impact sending a shockwave through the clearing. For a moment, I thought I'd done something, but when the flames cleared, Amara stood there, utterly unscathed. She dusted off her coat, a smirk tugging at her crimson lips.
"Cute," she said, her tone dripping with mockery.
Before I could react, she was in front of me, her speed almost supernatural. Her fist collided with my stomach, and I felt the air rush out of my lungs. The flames around me flickered as I stumbled back, struggling to stay on my feet.
"Don't get cocky," Amara said, her voice sharp. "Your magic is strong, but power means nothing if you can't control it."
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand. The flames roared back to life, fueled by my frustration. "I'll show you control," I snarled, launching myself at her.
I swung wildly, my fists ignited with fire, but Amara dodged every attack with infuriating ease. She moved like a shadow, her body weaving through my strikes as if she were dancing.
"Sloppy," she said, catching my wrist mid-swing. Her grip was like iron, unyielding and painful. "You're relying on raw emotion. That's not enough."
She twisted my arm, forcing me to my knees. The flames around me surged, but they couldn't break her hold.
"You want to be strong?" she asked, leaning down so that her golden eyes bored into mine. "Then stop fighting like a child throwing a tantrum."
Her words stung, but they only fueled the fire inside me. With a burst of determination, I wrenched my arm free and unleashed a torrent of flames in her direction.
Amara jumped back, her coat trailing behind her like a shadow. The fire scorched the ground where she'd stood, leaving a smoking crater in its wake.
"Better," she admitted, her lips curving into a predatory smile. "But still not enough."
She lunged at me, her movements a blur. Her fist struck my shoulder, sending me spinning, and before I could recover, her knee slammed into my side.
Pain radiated through my body, but I refused to let it stop me. I stumbled back, the flames around me growing wilder, more chaotic.
"Control it!" Amara barked, her voice cutting through the chaos. "You think you can just let your power run rampant and hope for the best? That's how amateurs fight."
"I'm trying!" I shouted, throwing another punch. It connected, but it felt like hitting solid steel.
"Trying isn't good enough," she said, her voice colder now. "Not in this world."
Her next attack came like a thunderstorm relentless and overwhelming. Her punches and kicks were like hammer blows, each one driving me closer to the ground.
"Do you think your enemies will go easy on you because you're human?" she asked, her voice rising with each strike. "Do you think they'll pity you because you're 'trying'?"
I couldn't answer. All I could do was endure, my body screaming in protest as she continued to pummel me.
"You want to be a hero?" she spat, grabbing me by the collar and lifting me off the ground. "Heroes don't hesitate. They don't hold back. And they sure as hell don't waste time feeling sorry for themselves."
She threw me to the ground, and I landed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. The flames around me flickered, their once-brilliant glow dimming.
"You're weak because you're afraid," Amara said, her tone softer now but no less cutting. "Afraid of your power. Afraid of what it might mean. Afraid of failing."
Her words cut deeper than any blow, and for a moment, I felt like she was right. But then something inside me pushed back a spark of defiance that refused to be snuffed out.
I pushed myself to my feet, my body trembling but my resolve unbroken. The flames roared back to life, brighter and fiercer than before.
"I'm not afraid," I said, my voice steady despite the pain. "Not anymore."
Amara raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "Oh? Then show me."
I took a deep breath, focusing on the fire inside me. This time, I didn't let it control me. I controlled it. The flames coiled around my fists, forming gauntlets of pure energy.
Amara charged, and I met her head-on. Our fists collided, the impact sending a shockwave through the clearing. The flames around me surged, clashing with her immense strength.
For a moment, it felt like I was holding my own. But then Amara's power overwhelmed me. Her punch broke through my defenses, sending me sprawling once again.
I hit the ground hard, the flames around me sputtering out. I tried to get up, but my body refused to cooperate.
Amara stood over me, her golden eyes burning with intensity. "You have potential, Seraphina," she said, her voice softer now. "But potential means nothing if you don't use it."
She crouched down, her expression serious. "If you can't become a hero," she said, her voice like a challenge, "then become the greatest Demon Queen ever."