Rowen trudged along the well-worn path from Calder's home, the midday sun warming his back. Despite the lingering ache in his muscles from training, his mind buzzed with thoughts of how to improve his control over the fire ability. Zoreth's voice interrupted his musings, smooth and laced with curiosity.
"Thinking about your fiery debut, are we?"
Rowen smirked faintly. "Something like that. I know I've barely scratched the surface of what I can do, but Calder says practice makes perfect."
Zoreth chuckled, the sound rich and almost mocking. "Practice, yes. But with fire, precision and understanding are key. It's not just about hurling flames at your enemies—though I admit that's fun—it's about control, finesse, and knowing when to ignite or extinguish. Fire can nurture or destroy. You must learn to master both aspects."
Rowen nodded thoughtfully. "Calder's teaching me to be patient with it, but I feel like I need more. Something to push me further, faster."
Zoreth's tone turned contemplative. "You've stumbled upon an important truth, my dear host. True mastery requires not just practice but exploration. Every ability is as much a part of the wielder as a limb or a thought. Your fire affinity, though common enough, is yours alone. It will grow as you understand it and how it fits into your own essence."
"That's why I want to push harder," Rowen said. "To figure it out for myself."
"Good," Zoreth said approvingly. "But even I, Zoreth, once the mightiest among gods, cannot teach you everything. Learning from others with a similar affinity could accelerate your growth."
Rowen frowned. "Others? Like who?"
"That boy," Zoreth said smoothly. "The one you saved from those bullies—Kieran. If I recall correctly, he also wields fire, does he not?"
Rowen slowed his pace, considering the suggestion. "Yeah, he does. But he's younger than me and probably hasn't had much training."
Zoreth hummed, unconcerned. "True, but he has one thing you lack: familiarity. He's lived with his ability longer, which means he might have insights you haven't considered. And, if nothing else, practicing together would be mutually beneficial. Fire sparks fire, after all."
Rowen tilted his head, mulling it over. "You think it's a good idea?"
"Undoubtedly" Zoreth said, his voice confident. "Besides, building relationships with others who share your gifts strengthens not only your skill but also your connection to your affinity. You might even learn something about yourself in the process."
Rowen grinned. "Alright, I'm sold. I'll go find Kieran."
"Splendid," Zoreth said, amusement in his tone. "Go forth, my little ember, and make friends. I'll remain here, quietly judging your social skills."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Rowen muttered, but he couldn't suppress the small laugh that escaped him.
As he reached the village square, Rowen's eyes scanned the lively market, searching for Kieran. It didn't take long to spot him near a small workshop at the edge of the square. The boy was short and wiry, his untamed red hair gleaming like flames in the sunlight. His skin was freckled, and his sharp green eyes were narrowed in concentration as he struggled to lift a large bucket of water. His clothes were simple but well-worn, and a faint smear of soot across his cheek hinted at his work around the forge.
Rowen approached as Kieran's arms trembled under the weight of the bucket. He could see the determination on the boy's face, though it was clear the task was testing his limits.
"Kieran!" Rowen called out, striding over.
The boy turned abruptly, startled by the sound of his name. In his surprise, the bucket wobbled dangerously in his hands.
"Whoa, easy there," Rowen said, stepping in quickly. "Need a hand?"
Kieran's face turned pink, whether from exertion or embarrassment, as he nodded. "Yeah... thanks. It's heavier than it looks."
Rowen grabbed the bucket, effortlessly lifting it and carrying it toward the forge. The blacksmith, a broad-shouldered man with arms like tree trunks, glanced over briefly but seemed content to let Kieran manage his own business.
"Thanks," Kieran said, wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist. "Didn't think the water would fight back so hard today."
Rowen chuckled. "I remember you have a fire ability, right?"
Kieran blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Got it a couple months ago. Still figuring things out."
"Same here," Rowen said, holding out his palm. A modest flame flickered to life—steady, controlled, brief.
Kieran's eyes widened. "That's awesome! Mine's... not quite that clean yet."
Rowen tilted his head. "You want to practice together? I'm training with Calder in the mornings, but in the afternoons, I've got time. Thought it might help to work with someone who's figuring it out, too."
Kieran's face lit up. "Yeah! I've mostly been trying stuff on my own. My dad doesn't know much about fire, and I haven't had a mentor. It's kind of been... trial and error. Mostly error."
Rowen smirked. "What kind of stuff have you tried?"
Kieran scratched the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "I started small—lighting candles, heating water. I tried to throw a flame once, but it fizzled midair. I think I'm pushing too much energy all at once."
Rowen nodded, his mind already turning over what he'd learned with Calder—and what Zoreth had been feeding him in whispers. "I've had similar issues. Calder's been helping me focus on keeping the flame tight. Small, steady. Like holding your breath instead of exhaling it."
Kieran's eyes lit up with interest. "That makes sense. I've been thinking of it like... pulling a string, I guess. Like the fire's wound up inside me, and I have to draw it out. But I tug too hard, and it snaps loose."
"That's actually a really cool way to think about it," Rowen said. "I've been seeing it more like pressure building in my chest that I have to guide, or it just blasts out."
"We should test that," Kieran said, excitement overtaking fatigue. "Your method, my method—see which gives better control, or maybe blend them. Maybe it depends on the person?"
"Could be," Rowen said thoughtfully. "Fire seems to behave differently for everyone. Maybe it's tied to emotion, or intent."
Kieran nodded. "Or both. When I get mad, it's way harder to control. But when I'm calm? I can get a little flicker to hover."
Rowen grinned. "Alright. Sounds like we've both got pieces of the puzzle. Let's see if we can put them together."
"Tomorrow after midday?" Kieran asked, his face already bright with anticipation.
"Perfect" Rowen said. "We'll figure it out one spark at a time."
The blacksmith barked a short order from inside, and Kieran grimaced. "Duty calls. But thanks, Rowen. I'm really glad you asked."
"Me too." Rowen clapped his shoulder and turned to go, fire and purpose smoldering in his chest.
As he walked back toward home, Zoreth's voice hummed with satisfaction.
"You see now, don't you? Fire is not a path walked alone. Even a god once learned by watching lesser flames."
Rowen didn't answer. But a small, knowing smile touched his lips.