After being banned from the library for the foreseeable future (crime: wanting to learn things), I decided the world owed me something exciting today.
So, I headed for the next best place:
The training courtyard. A place I was definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not allowed to enter alone.
It was early morning and the sun stretched over the horizon. As I gazed at the football field size open area from a 2nd floor Hall window. I knew my next target.
The courtyard was huge; stone floors, wooden dummies, racks of training blades of different sizes, Every weapon imaginable lay ripe for the use, and scorch marks absolutely everywhere. Echoes of flames from elite fire warriors stain the ground and walls.
The place radiated danger.
Which meant it was perfect.
I rubbed my hands together like a tiny villain.
"Time for reconnaissance," I whispered.
The halls were quiet, so I crept along with all the stealth of a toddler ninja. When I peeked around the final corner, the huge double doors to the courtyard were cracked open, just enough for a curious three-year-old to slip through.
Inside, the air vibrated.
Two warriors were facing each other near the center on what looked like a stone brick platform, their stances low and taut, flames swirling around them like living serpents. A man and a woman dressed in iron knight armor, trimmed with gold and red.
My eyes widened.
I looked at their gold and red fire dripped trim along their armor. "Guard captains." I thought to myself. "They have to be Guard captains."
"System…" I say looking at the man first then the woman, "Status Check."
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[STATUS — CAPTAIN ORIN REDVALE]
Age: 41
Tier: III — [Resonant] Rank 3 [Resonant Master]
Concept: Blaze-Will (Fire + Intent)
Blaze-Will strengthens the physical form of fire using sheer intent.
Attributes:
•??? [Authority Not High Enough]
Titles:
• The Unbreaking Flame
• Ashencrest Vanguard Captain
──────────────────────────
[STATUS — CAPTAIN RENNA VORLUNE]
Age: 30
Tier: III — [Resonant] Rank 3 [Resonant Master]
Concept: Arc-Flame (Fire + Precision)
Concept shapes fire into cutting arcs and precise forms
Attributes:
• ??? [Authority Not High Enough]
Titles:
• Crescent-Flame Duelist
• Blade-Dancer Captain
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Tier 3 Concept wielders.
Resonant Masters.
My heart pounded in my tiny chest. I don't even know what that means but that sounds awesome. "Looks like Tier 3 gives you the ability to be one of the Captains of a Duke's guard.
"This," I whispered, "is the good stuff."
Just as I braced myself against the doors to watch, someone cleared their throat behind me.
"Young master."
Oh no.
I turned slowly.
I heard the soft click of shoes before I saw her.
She stepped into view with the quiet, composed grace of someone who understood exactly how to move in noble halls. Her hair caught my eye first: a long, silky fall of snow-white strands gathered into a neat braid that brushed her waist. Not aged white, no. A natural, striking silver that made her look like she'd stepped out of a winter painting.
Her eyes were a warm, steady brown that softened the sharpness of her features. She looked like she should've been cold, distant, intimidating with that hair color and formal uniform… but the moment her gaze settled on me, something gentle flickered across her expression.
She was in her late twenties by the look of it—old enough to be competent, young enough to still sigh dramatically at toddler nonsense. Her uniform was immaculate: deep charcoal with crimson trim, the Ashencrest crest embroidered over her heart. She carried herself with perfect posture, chin high, shoulders squared.
A professional.
A proper maid.
Someone who lived and breathed discipline.
But when she talked to me, her voice was warm in a way that had nothing to do with duty.
And even though she looked like carved ice from a distance, up close she felt… safe.
She kneeled down so we were eye level, her braid slipping over her shoulder, and I caught the faint scent of fresh cedar and ember soap.
"Young master," she said gently, "why are you creeping around corners like a little burglar?"
I responded to her question with another, "Who are you?"
"I am your new personal maid, Elira" she spoke while holding eye contact, a small smile creeping along the corners of her lips. "After yesterday's library break-in attempt, My Lady, Seraphine thought it necessary that you needed a caretaker to watch you. After… in her words, her little fiery wanderlust troublemaker needs someone to prevent you from making trouble."
And just like that, Elira became the first adult in this household who talked to me like I was a person, not a fragile noble ornament.
"Young Master, It's very nice to meet you. But…" she said again but this time in a voice that wouldn't be brushed off so easily, "why are you approaching the training courtyard like a burglar?"
"I'm not," I said confidently.
"You are literally pressed against the wall."
"…Tactical positioning?"
"You are three." She groaned. "I've been briefed from your mother on how daring you could be but this takes the cake."
But before she could scold me further, a sudden roar of flame echoed from the courtyard.
We both turned.
The fight had begun.
Elira grabbed my hand instinctively, and though she meant to pull me away, we both froze as the scene before us unfolded.
Captain Orin — tall, broad, fire running in the veins of his arms — struck first.
His flame burst outward, not like a simple blaze, but like a resonance.
It vibrated with a low hum, a Concept given shape.
Blaze-Will.
A Tier 3 Concept.
Fire strengthened by sheer force of intent.
The air rippled around him, his flames bending weirdly, almost eagerly, as if they were alive.
His opponent, Captain Renna, moved with a dancer's grace.
She wasn't using ordinary fire either.
Her flames were cool-colored, pale gold instead of red, and they curved sharply around her limbs like crescent moons.
Arc-Flame.
Precise. Controlled.
Two different flames.
Two different philosophies of Fire.
Two Resonant Masters.
Orin charged first.
His foot hit the ground, and a ring of heat exploded outward, kicking up dust and burning away the wooden dummy behind him.
Renna vaulted cleanly over it, flipping midair, her body carving a sweeping arc of golden flame that sliced through Orin's attack like silk through smoke.
The flames didn't collide and explode.
They sang.
A ringing vibration filled the courtyard as both Concepts resonated against each other; Blaze-Will's raw force and Arc-Flame's razor precision pushing back and forth like dueling instruments.
"Spirits," Elira breathed. "They're using Concepts at full strength and full armor… during practice?"
Then she looked down at me just in time to see me leaning forward with absolute fascination.
Her eye twitched.
"…You are enjoying this."
"I am appreciating this," I corrected.
"Same thing."
"No, appreciating implies deeper intellectual engagement."
"You are three," she reminded me again, voice weary.
But she didn't pull me away.
Because the duel escalated.
Renna dashed forward, her golden flame curling around her like blades. She struck with a spiraling motion, the arcs overlapping into a rotating fan of condensed Concept fire.
Orin slammed his foot down again, bursting upward in a pillar of red resonance. The flames on his arms expanded outward, thickening into gauntlet-like shapes.
The clash was explosive. There seemed to be a protective dome that prevented debris or rogue flames from reach outside the battle platform.
Flame met flame, but not like fire meeting fire — more like two ideas colliding.
The courtyard floor cracked beneath them.
Sparks burst into swirling vortexes.
A shockwave rippled through the air, shaking dust from the rafters.
I was gaping openly.
"This…" I whispered, awestruck, "is incredible."
Elira squeezed my hand tighter.
"Kaisel, I really shouldn't let you watch this…"
But her eyes were glued to the fight just as much as mine.
Renna twisted behind Orin and sliced downward with a crescent of gold fire.
Orin grinned fiercely and raised his flaming gauntlet, absorbing the blow with a burst of Blaze-Will that made the air quiver.
Cracks of red and gold sparked between them.
Resonant Masters.
Tier 3.
This was the first real combat I'd ever seen in this world: not a story, not a painting, but a true clash of Concepts.
Fire wasn't just fire here.
It was form, belief, emotion, identity.
It was an extension of the soul.
My soul burned in response — a faint stirring deep in my chest.
True Fire shifting.
Awake.
Observing.
Elira noticed me clutching my shirt and gently lifted me into her arms.
"That's enough for today," she said softly, voice warm despite her anxiety. "You've seen enough flames for one lifetime."
"No," I whispered. "Not enough."
She blinked. "What?"
"…Nothing."
I let her carry me, but my eyes stayed locked on the duel until the courtyard doors finally closed behind us.
As she walked me back to the nursery, she shook her head.
"You are too curious for your own good."
"I am appropriately curious," I said.
"Appropriately for what?"
"…Someone older than three."
She shot me a knowing look. "I've only met you today, and I feel like you are."
I didn't comment.
But deep down, I felt it too.
This world's fire spoke to me.
Its Concepts pulled at me.
And whatever my True Fire was becoming…
It wanted to grow.