The final chime of Ability Development shuddered through my bones. The resonant hum of the Hall of Resonance died, leaving ringing silence. Sweat cooled on my temples, hands raw from wrestling light into stubborn steel. The practice sword across my knees felt heavy, inert, its hard-won glow extinguished. Kael had vanished soundlessly.
"Feel like you arm-wrestled a granite cliff?" Lira fell into step, rolling her shoulders.
"Negotiating with tectonic plates," I admitted, flexing stiff fingers. Storm shifted, a warm anchor and a living reminder: *Control it, or you'll burn him out.*
Lira grinned as we entered the mist-chilled corridor. "Break time! Ready to meet Raven and Wren?"
Beneath the gnarled oak in the South Courtyard, the twins huddled over honeyed oatcakes. Identical raven-black hair framed faces distinguished by their eyes: Raven's piercing grey held river-stone stillness, tiny braids at his temples. Wren's hazel eyes danced with mischief, a leather cord circling his wrist.
"Adam," Lira announced. "Grey eyes: Raven. Hazel: Wren."
Raven offered a curt nod. "Survived Blythe's gauntlet? Luck favors the stubborn."
Wren beamed. "The drake!" He offered a crumb. Storm snatched it delicately. No spark.
"Infusing metal feels like whispering to a glacier," I said.
"Just wait for elemental manipulation," Wren groaned.
Lira stretched. "Abilities Practical next. That covered field out back." She pointed southwest. "Combat Manifestation," Her fingers blurred into wickedly sharp claws before snapping back. ", my happy place. Support & Augmentation," She nodded at the twins.
Wren flexed his hands. "Buffs. Strength, speed, reflexes." He tapped his thigh. Instantly, he blurred upwards, snatched a leaf from the oak's lowest branch, and landed lightly. "Self-testing!"
Raven's level gaze fixed on me. "Lira says Fire is your song. Clean ignition yet?"
"Some warmth. A spark or two. Unpredictable," I admitted.
"Emotion is your flint and tinder," Raven stated. "Learn control or become a hazard."
The break bell shattered the calm. I followed them through massive rear gates and froze.
The Covered Training Grounds were staggering. A vast, engineered landscape sprawled under weatherproofed canvas stretched over steel arches. Mist-laden breeze carried scents of ozone, wet earth, molten stone, and crushed frost. The packed earth was divided:
1. **Combat Manifestation:** Reinforced dummies stood amidst obstacle courses. Lira was a whirlwind of focused violence. One moment her fist struck; the next, knuckles elongated, skin rippled with dark scales, and wickedly curved claws tore deep gouges. Her green eyes blazed with concentration.
2. **Support & Augmentation:** Thick mats covered sections. Raven knelt, hands glowing soft silver over a practice wound on a dummy, flesh visibly knitting. Nearby, Wren crouched, touched his ankles, and exploded upwards, clearing a twenty-foot platform. "Higher!" he yelled, tapping his bicep for another burst.
3. **Elemental Manipulation:** Raw power on display. A cryomancer exhaled frost, flash-freezing a trough solid, then shattering it. A geomancer churned molten lava in a stone crucible. Another wove dense fog banks from mist. A metallokinetic strained, lifting iron filings into a trembling cloud. The air crackled.
My gaze snagged on a lone figure at the periphery. Kael. Shirtless, lean torso gleaming. He moved through a brutal kata, strikes like axe blows against a hanging bag, kicks snapping straps. Every movement radiated controlled violence. The pale scar stood stark.
A sharp CRACK echoed as a fireball streaked from a brazier zone, impacting a distant target. Kael didn't flinch. His dark eyes flicked towards the blast, assessing for a heartbeat. Then, focus snapped back. He didn't train *with* them. He trained *at* them. Watching.
"Adam Thorne?" A firm voice cut through. A woman with coppery skin, dark hair tightly bound, stood near the fire quadrant. "Instructor Vance. Fire affinity. Report to Brazier Seven."
I moved past students coaxing flames. Brazier Seven was larger, facing dummies at twenty, forty, sixty feet. Vance handed me nothing. "Ignition is innate. You have the spark. Prove it. Light the brazier. Sustain a flame hot enough to scorch the iron. Then," She nodded towards the dummies. "Put fire on target. Start close. Control before distance. Burn the dummy, not the field."
I faced the cold iron bowl. Pushed aside everything. For Storm. *Control. Steady pressure.* Reached inward, found the core warmth. A focused draw. Heat gathered in my palm over kindling. Encouraged ignition.
A soft hiss-crackle. A tiny flame flickered, caught, grew into contained fire. Vance gave a curt nod. "Sustain. Increase heat."
I deepened focus. Flames deepened to orange, then white-hot. Heat radiated intensely; the iron glowed faintly red. Sweat beaded. *Control the burn. Steady.*
"Good. Now. Closest dummy. Twenty feet. Channel the heat. Shape it. Throw it. *Control* it."
I raised my hand. Pulled at the brazier's fire. Heat surged in my veins. Visualized a compact sphere. Pushed *with* the energy.
A fist-sized orb of white flame roared from my palm. It streaked across the gap and slammed into the dummy's chest with a WHUMPH. Flames engulfed the top half instantly, charring wood black.
*Too bright.* Triumph flared. The brazier fire surged violently. Storm let out a soft, alarmed chirp. I clenched my jaw, wrestled focus back, dampening the flame. Steady.
I glanced across the field. Lira tore into a dummy. Wren ricocheted. Kael had paused mid-strike. His dark eyes were locked directly on me, on the smoking dummy. For three heartbeats, that intense gaze held. Then, he turned smoothly, resuming his kata, the THUD-THUD-THUD of his blows echoing.
I looked back at the next dummy. Forty feet. Drew a steadying breath, Storm's weight grounding me. The real test, under the silent observer's gaze, had truly ignited.