Inside the classroom, Saria stood at the center once more, a gleam of challenge in her eyes.
"Before we move to the real field," she said, rolling her shoulders, "let me show you a taste of what fire magic can be when you move beyond chucking fireballs like a caveman."
With a graceful twirl of her hand, flames danced at her fingertips. But this time, there was no heat. Just movement—smooth, elegant, alive.
She stepped back and swept her arm across the air in a wide arc.
In an instant, flames wove into a serpent, its scaled body curling through the air, dancing between the students without burning a thing.
She clicked her tongue, and it split into two phoenixes, circling above before bursting into a cascade of fiery roses that hung mid-air, spinning like petals in a breeze.
Gasps filled the room.
Even Amara looked up from her notes.
"That," Saria said with a smug smirk, "is fire magic—with style. Not just brute force."
