Lira woke slowly, the soft morning light casting pale patterns across the ceiling. A whisper from her dreams still lingered—faint voices, warm and distant, like ancestors or guides speaking just beyond the veil of sleep. They had shown her symbols again—fluid, glowing, dancing through the air like fireflies. She sat up, frowning slightly. Some of the shapes looked familiar. Had she seen them in the green-bound book?
"I'll check it in the library later," she murmured, brushing her hair from her face.
She rose, cleaned up quietly, and gathered her papers. The hall beyond her door was already alive with footsteps and laughter—the bubbling energy of students rushing to their lessons. She hesitated, then stepped into the flow, clutching her papers to her chest.
She had only taken a few steps when Maelin leapt into view, grinning from ear to ear.
"Good morning! Did you sleep well?" she chirped, bouncing on her toes. "Let's go to class! I'm so excited—today we'll see how the elements react!"
The classroom buzzed softly as students settled in. Teacher Gabriela stood at the center, poised and still, until the last whispers died down. Then, with a small movement of her staff, the lights dimmed slightly and a low hum filled the room.
"Today," she began, "we move beyond theory. You've seen the symbols. You've studied the cycles. Now, you will witness the elements in their living form."
With a graceful sweep of her hand, five glowing orbs rose from the floor, each pulsing with a distinct energy: deep brown Earth, flickering red Fire, flowing blue Water, whirling white Air, and a faintly luminous Spirit that shimmered like moonlight on still water.
"These are the pure states," Gabriela said. "Before you learn to shape them, you must understand how they move."
She turned to the side. "Students from the higher levels have joined us today to assist."
A group of older students stepped forward, each wearing colors that matched their element. One by one, they approached the orbs. The Earth student placed a hand near the brown sphere, and soil rose in spirals, forming a small tree that bloomed before their eyes. The Fire student extended their palm, and a flame danced across the floor in a graceful arc. Water twisted like a ribbon through the air; Air lifted small objects in playful gusts. The Spirit student stood silently, but a hush fell over the room as they closed their eyes—everyone felt it, a stillness inside their own minds, a gentle pull inward.
Gabriela observed each demonstration carefully, then turned back to the class.
"You will grow into your element. Some faster than others. Some with surprises. Today, you observe. Tomorrow, you try. But for now—watch how the elements respond to intent, proximity, and emotion."
The class leaned forward, captivated. Even Lira, who had woken thinking more of her dream than the day ahead, was now fully drawn in. Her thoughts danced between the glowing displays and the quiet strength she sometimes felt in her own hands.
When the final demonstration ended, Gabriela tapped her staff once more.
"For your homework," she said, "use the outdoor training ring. Spend time near your element. Listen before you command. Understanding must come first."
The orbs dimmed and vanished.
Class ended in a soft murmur of voices. Students rose, chatting excitedly, but Lira lingered in her seat, eyes fixed on where the Earth orb had floated. Something about it had felt... familiar.
Maelin nudged her. "Come on. Let's see if the training ring's still empty."
Lira gathered her notes. "Yeah," she whispered. "I want to try."
The sky outside was thick with soft gray clouds that threatened rain but never followed through. Lira and Maelin walked the worn path to the training grounds—a vast open space carved into the academy's outer ridge. It had been used for centuries, maybe longer, by generations of elemental students.
The ground was firm beneath their boots, scattered with scuffs from past practice—burn marks, clawed soil, patches of lingering frost. Five ancient stone pillars stood at the field's edge in a wide circle, each carved with a glowing elemental symbol. The air shimmered faintly at the boundary, a containment ward to keep the elemental forces in check.
Lira slowed as they passed the first pillar. The Earth symbol was deeply etched: a circle with an inverted triangle and a line across its center. It pulsed a mossy green, the ground beneath it denser, the roots tangled around its base as though drawn to its steady rhythm.
Stability. Growth. Structure.
Next was Fire—a sharp upward triangle flaring with delicate lines. It burned crimson-orange, radiating warmth. The stone around it was scorched in places.
Transformation. Energy. Will.
Water followed—a downward triangle crossed by a horizontal line. It shimmered blue, the air around it cool and damp. A fine mist clung to the base, and the symbol was worn smooth.
Emotion. Adaptability. Healing.
Air came next—an upward triangle with a line, opposite of Water. Its pale silver glow danced in small breezes that tugged at robes and hair. The carving was delicate, calligraphic.
Intellect. Communication. Breath.
Finally, Spirit—a circle with a central dot, glowing softly violet. It pulsed like a heartbeat. No physical stir, but Lira felt something unseen… watching.
The soul. Connection. The unseen force.
Students from various levels moved within the circle. Some stood still, focusing. Others practiced—drawing sparks, calling water, hovering slightly off the ground.
Maelin tugged Lira's sleeve. "Let's take a corner. I want to try summoning again."
They found a quiet patch where the ground was less disturbed. Lira knelt, pressing her hand to the soil. She could still feel the rhythm of the Earth symbol in her chest. She wasn't sure what she was doing—but the way roots shifted near her fingers, the soft vibration under her skin—it felt like Earth was listening.
Just… not ready to speak back.
---
Later, the sun hung low as the class filtered into the training grounds. The air shimmered faintly above the cobblestone borders where the glowing sigils stood like quiet sentinels, humming with ancient enchantments. Without them, the elemental energy would run wild.
Lira's gaze lingered on the Earth sigil: a spiral within a square, etched deep in moss-covered stone. It glowed a soft green, almost gentle. Beside it, the Fire symbol blazed—sharp triangles flaring upward.
"Watch this," Maelin said, stepping into the Fire-marked circle. She inhaled deeply, her fingers curling.
In an instant, tiny flames sparked to life in her palm, swirling like fireflies. They cast a warm flicker across her face.
"Cool, right?" she beamed. "It tickles. Once you find the spark, it just answers you."
Lira stepped toward the Earth circle, hesitant. She looked at her open hands, trying to feel something—roots, rhythm, anything. She inhaled, focused… but nothing happened.
She tried again. Still nothing.
Her hands dropped slightly, her chest tight.
Maelin noticed right away. She let her flames fade and moved closer.
"Hey," she said gently. "It's okay. Some gifts need more time. Maybe yours works differently—but that doesn't mean you're wrong."
Lira gave a small nod, but the pressure in her chest didn't ease.
Maelin nudged her shoulder. "You felt the greenhouse, right? That was something. You'll figure it out. You always get that quiet face when something's about to shift."
Lira almost smiled.
"I should go," she murmured. "I promised to check on something."
Maelin nodded. "I'll stay and practice. But don't give up. There's something in you—I can feel it."
Lira touched her shoulder in thanks, then turned and jogged toward the edge of the field. As she stepped over the Earth sigil, it pulsed once beneath her foot.
So faint, she could have imagined it.
But she didn't.
She felt it.
A slow, deep rhythm. Waiting.