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The next morning came too soon.
A firm knock echoed through my dorm room door.
I groaned, muscles sore from yesterday's training, and rolled out of bed. Opening the door, I found no one—just a small flame hovering in the air, crackling with divine heat.
"Training ground. Now." Ashley's voice echoed from the fire, then vanished.
I sighed and slammed the door shut, groaning loudly.
"Ahhhh, at this rate, I'm going to die of exhaustion." I rubbed my eyes, blinking rapidly to wake myself fully.
Glancing at the mirror, I caught my reflection out of the corner of my eye.
"Does the princess need her beauty sleep?" Damian teased, chuckling.
I ignored him, staring at myself. Long hair was still new to me—my face half-hidden beneath it, strands scattered everywhere.
I took a hurried bath, dressed quickly, and headed to the volcanic ring just outside the academy's border. The cracked, scorched earth steamed beneath my feet; heat rose in soft waves, as if the air itself was alive.
Ashley stood at the center—arms crossed, no shirt or armor—just fire tattoos running across his skin like molten rivers. His red flame robe clung to him, and his eyes glowed like twin coals—unreadable.
The moment I stepped into the training courtyard, the air shifted. Heavier. Hotter. Like the world itself was holding its breath.
"Gosh, don't talk to me—he's mad because I'm late," I muttered.
A deep pressure pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I froze.
Ashley stood motionless, arms folded behind his back. His long flaming red hair flowed in the wind like liquid sunlight, glowing—embers on a winter night.
"You're late," he said, his voice too calm to be comforting.
I glanced up at the academy sundial. "By… two minutes?"
His eyes flared golden—quiet, but dangerous. The wind stopped. Even the flames around the arena held still.
"Two minutes is two minutes too long in battle," Ashley said, stepping toward me slowly and deliberately. "Two minutes can cost an entire legion. Two minutes can cost an entire kingdom. Two minutes is the difference between a hero… and a corpse."
Before I could speak, the ground beneath me shifted.
A glowing scarlet glyph appeared beneath my boots, ancient runes swirling.
"Oh, c'mon!"
A pillar of fire exploded under me, sending me flying into the air like a ragdoll. I flipped midair and barely landed on my shoulder, rolling hard across the stone courtyard.
Coughing smoke, I pushed myself up, patting the singed sleeve of my uniform. "Seriously?!"
Ashley hadn't moved an inch. His voice echoed across the courtyard, deadly quiet.
"You want to wield divine fire? Then learn to respect it. You're the chosen one. It's not just a title—it's a responsibility, a privilege, and a burden. That was me being merciful. Next time, I won't be so kind. Now, let's begin training."
I dusted myself off, pride smoldering more than my clothes. "I'm sorry," I said sincerely.
He raised a brow. "I want results, not words."
Before I could respond, he clapped his hands—and the ground rumbled beneath us.
A circle of flames erupted, trapping us in an arena of heat and silence.
"No distractions," Ashley said. "Just breath. Just flame."
He walked toward me slowly.
"You think fire is in your fists? That rage alone fuels it?" he asked, tapping my chest. "You're wrong."
"Fire comes from here—" he moved his hand to just below my ribs, "—from the core. The breath. Not the muscle. Not the fury. Breath feeds fire, and fire is life."
We all make one mistake: we assume fire brings destruction, fire brings pain. But in those sparks and blazing heat is protection and life.
He stepped back and sat cross-legged on the scorched ground.
"Sit."
I hesitated.
"I hate repeating myself." He said seriously
I sat.
He exhaled slowly, deeply, and the fire circle pulsed with his breath. It was alive—responding to his lungs, not his limbs.
"This technique is ancient. Sacred. It's how the Fire Gods themselves shaped suns," he said. "We begin with the Inferno Breath."
He demonstrated: a slow inhale through the nose, drawing heat inward. Then a pause—where the fire churned within, compressed like coal under pressure. Then a sharp, powerful exhale through the mouth—a volcanic burst of flames erupted from his nostrils.
"Breathe like this, and you don't fight harder—you fight hotter. Stronger. Wiser. Fire obeys you because it becomes you."
I tried it.
Inhale—slow, long.
My chest expanded. My skin tingled. Warmth pulled in from the ground beneath my ribs.
Hold.
Then exhale.
Nothing.
Ashley frowned.
"You're breathing like a human. Not like a flame."
"Most warriors never learn until it's too late: fire isn't controlled by muscles. It doesn't obey rage. Fire is wild, yes—but not mindless. Fire is rhythm. Fire is breath."
He paused, eyes sweeping over me.
"Breath is the bridge between your soul and your body. It's the first thing you do when you're born, and the last thing you'll do when you die. It's not just survival—it's control. Every breath you take either builds your flame… or weakens it."
Ashley raised a hand. A small flame sparked to life on his palm, dancing lightly as if breathing with him.
"When your breathing is calm, your flame listens. When your breathing is wild, your fire becomes chaos. You want divine power? Learn divine discipline. You want to master your element? Then master yourself first."
He closed his palm. The flame vanished.
"So today's lesson isn't how to throw a fireball. It's how to breathe. Because if you can't control your breath, you'll never control your fire. And if you can't control your fire… then one day, it will burn you alive."
Silence followed. Even the wind dared not whisper.
Then he turned to me directly, gaze sharp as tempered steel.
"Breathe, Kingston. Not like a warrior. Not like a boy. Breathe like a god learning to wake up."
I inhaled, held… and this time something shifted. A flicker. A spark. The flame circle pulsed slightly in response.
I opened my eyes, startled.
Ashley smiled faintly. "Good. You're listening."
We continued for hours.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
My body ached, but the fire no longer felt wild. It was beginning to pulse with my breath—to become mine.
By the end, sweat drenched my back. My eyes glowed with embers, and I could feel a faint trail of smoke with every breath I took.
"You've taken your first step," Ashley said, turning away. "Now I'll teach you how to focus fire from your bloodstream, breath, and core. Focusing all this is your greatest weapon."
---
Ashley stood quietly as I followed suit, his eyes locked on me like a hawk watching its prey.
"Fire isn't just an external force," he said slowly. "It's born inside you—from the core of your being. Your bloodstream carries your life essence, your energy, your fire."
He stepped closer. "To control fire, you don't just summon it from nowhere. You draw it from within. From your core. From your breath. From your blood flowing through your veins."
I frowned. "My blood?"
Ashley nodded. "Yes. Your bloodstream is like a river carrying your fire's fuel. When your heart beats, it sends energy pulsing through your veins. Your breath is the gatekeeper—calm and steady, it controls how much fuel flows."
He motioned for me to close my eyes.
"Focus. Feel your heartbeat. Your blood coursing beneath your skin. Breathe in deep... let the energy gather."
I inhaled slowly, feeling warmth rise from my chest, spreading through my arms.
"Now," Ashley said, "with your next exhale, release that energy through your limbs. Let it manifest as controlled flame. Not wild, not angry—purposeful."
I imagined the fire flowing like blood—calm, steady, guided by my breath and heartbeat.
A small flicker sparked on my palm.
Ashley's eyes gleamed. "Good. That is control. The fire obeys your body—your core—because it's part of you."
He smiled faintly. "Master that, and the flame will never betray you."
Then he disappeared into flames, and the fire barricade faded away.
I looked down at my hands.
For the first time, they weren't shaking with rage.
They were steady.
And burning with purpose.
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