Vaelir knelt in the sacred circle of the Solren people under the darkness of night.
Those gathered around were silent; the only sound was the rhythmic glow of the Thessvarin essence inside the bowl.
From red to orange, then to white...
And something stirred within Vaelir's heart.
The blood in his veins felt as if it had been replaced by lava.
But it did not burn.
It warmed.
The essence of fire gave him not just power, but a burden.
The next morning, the Solren people assembled before him.
The tribal leader called out to Vaelir from atop a high cliff:
"Vaelir,
Arnak saw you and burned you.
You are no longer just a bearer of flame, but our brother.
Stay with us.
Let us grant you the honor of our warriors."
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Selka had stepped back a little, but stood tall.
She was watching Vaelir's decision with steady eyes.
Vaelir said nothing.
Then he stepped forward and spoke in a low, resolute voice:
"I carry the flame, yes.
But my battle is not here.
I still see my brother in the dark.
And if I don't find him, this flame is doomed to die."
The tribe fell silent.
A few lowered their heads.
Selka did not look away.
She approached slowly and held out one of her bone daggers.
"You are not a warrior.
But one who carries fire inside...
Wherever you walk, there is war.
Never forget that."
Vaelir did not take the dagger.
He simply bowed his head.
"The night I fought you reminded me of my brother's face.
That's why I will never carry your weapon.
But I will carry your memory."
They bowed to each other.
For the last time.
And Vaelir walked away.
To Korvelthad... the place where his journey had begun.
But he would return not as a man, but as a bearer sealed by flame.
Elandra was waiting for him at the forest's edge.
Her gray cloak pulled over her shoulders, her eyes still scanning the sky.
She smiled when she saw him.
"I told you.
You'd become the flame of my gray spark."
Vaelir walked toward Elandra.
There was no pride or arrogance on his face...
Only a new weight.
"The flame is within me.
But I still don't know how to use it."
Elandra nodded.
"Because fire is not just to burn.
Sometimes it illuminates.
Sometimes it frightens.
Sometimes it consumes you from within.
Now I will teach you that."
Vaelir hesitated.
"Why?
Why are you helping me this much?"
Elandra didn't look away.
Her answer was simple and sharp:
"Because in your burning...
Lies my purification."
They set out together.
This time, they were not alone.
And the flame inside Vaelir began to shine brighter with every step.
Guided by Elandra, he walked from Korvelthad through a secret passage to the Continent of Balance.
The fire was still in his hands but it wasn't enough.
The sparks dancing between his palms still seemed hesitant.
Elandra noticed this.
And she carved a new path for him:
"Fire is not a power, but a language.
But you're only whispering its words.
You need to shout them.
That's why I'm sending you to Aetherion."
Aetherion Academy, located in the heart of the Continent of Balance, was nestled between four mountains that touched the sky.
It was governed by the legendary Four Elemental Councils:
Fire, Water, Earth, and Air.
But over time, the academy had accepted other elements:
Crystal, Plant, Stone, Smoke, Poison, Metal.
Every student was classified based on the element they were born with or acquired.
On his first day, Vaelir felt alone.
Other students radiated power.
The first eye contact came from a student in blue and black robes:
Kenerr Virell.
He moved water in his hands like art and spoke like waves.
Beside him stood an elegant girl adorned with smooth crystals:
Lyssa Marenys.
Her eyes were as sharp as if they had touched stone.
When they saw Vaelir, Kaelen smiled but it wasn't friendly, it was mocking.
"Hey, gray eyes.
Gonna learn magic with that rusty blade?"
He pointed at Vaelir's broken sword.
"Or is it a keepsake?
Maybe it glows when you cry."
Lyssa laughed.
But her voice slithered like a snake:
"Maybe just an old-fashioned romance burning out in lava.
Real magic happens here, gray eyes.
Sparkles aren't enough."
Vaelir didn't respond.
He just walked on.
His first class was Elemental Core Expression.
Each student was to demonstrate their elemental control.
Air mages lifted themselves with wind, metal users shaped armor midair.
Crystals burst, water surged skyward, roots wrapped around the class.
Then it was Vaelir's turn.
He focused with his hands.
Held his breath.
And...
a small spark appeared in his palm.
But it did not fade.
It slowly grew.
The teacher nodded.
"You have the flame.
But it does not yet know what it wants."
That day, for the first time, Vaelir felt:
The academy wasn't as bright as it seemed.
But the fire inside him...
Had no intention of fading.
It was the second week at Aetherion Academy.
The flames in Vaelir's hands were no longer mere sparks.
But still, they seemed lacking next to the others.
Especially during the big arena demonstrations.
One day, while sitting in the shadow of the lightning towers at the campus center, someone called out:
"Hey!
Aren't you the kid the whole academy laughed at yesterday?"
Vaelir turned.
A boy in yellow and black robes, messy hair, and a vibrant yet relaxed energy stood there.
There was confidence in his eyes not arrogance, but habit.
"My name's Reon.
Lightning mage.
Don't worry, I'm not here to mock.
I just haven't seen someone like you in a long time."
Vaelir looked up.
"Someone like me?"
Reon shrugged.
"There's no shortage of royal brats or power-hungry dreamers in this academy.
They come for strength or status.
You look different.
Your eyes are tired, but there's a reason behind them."
Vaelir didn't reply but he smiled.
Reon sat down.
The two talked for hours that day.
Reon explained how the academy worked:
"Aetherion isn't paid.
But that doesn't mean it's free.
Every student has to take on tasks given by the Balance Kingdom.
Easy ones: putting out fires in villages, helping with agriculture.
Hard ones: capturing rogue mages, maintaining elemental balance in other continents.
The harder the task, the more credit.
The more credit, the more power.
You can rise to the senate if you want.
But there's a price."
Vaelir nodded.
"I'm not here to collect credits.
Not here to win wars either.
I'm here to find someone.
If I don't, everything I learn is worthless."
Reon was silent for a moment.
Then spoke with a serious tone:
"Then you...
You're one of the rare ones who's chosen to truly pay the price of power.
Maybe that's why I like you, gray eyes."
Days passed, and Vaelir attended his classes:
Fire Manipulation shaping flame, directing it with pressure.
Elemental Balance moving in harmony with other types of magic.
Spiritual Focus controlling fire through inner emotion.
Now, his hands released not sparks, but warm spirals.
Once, during class, he melted a stone.
The room fell silent.
His teacher looked at him:
"You hold not just fire. You hold a flame that burns for a purpose."
He and Reon became close friends.
They ate together, snuck out of the academy at times, raced with lightning.
Reon's magic was energetic, but his heart was calm.
Vaelir's magic was calm, but his heart burned.