The Ember Grounds had a rare calm that morning. The haze of mist drifted lazily between the training pillars, and a warm breeze rustled through the trees on the outer ridge. Kael, now stronger but still far from mastery, stood barefoot on the stone floor, arms outstretched, trying to balance a flickering flame on each fingertip.
It wasn't going well.
"Ow!" he yelped as one of the flames snuffed out and puffed a tiny trail of smoke into his eye.
From across the courtyard, Daran burst into laughter. "That's the fifth time this morning! Are you sure you're not secretly an air user? Because your flames are running away from you."
Kael grumbled and waved the smoke away. "I'm trying to control it, not scare it."
Elira leaned against a pillar, arms crossed and an amused smile playing on her lips. "You've got passion, Kael. But fire listens to rhythm, not rage. Try again—but less like you're about to punch the sun."
Kael took a deep breath. He was getting used to their teasing, and if he was honest, he liked it. The Ember Grounds weren't just a place of training anymore—they were starting to feel like home.
After an hour of training, Ravon dismissed them. "You'll burn yourselves out if you don't rest. Come back after lunch. And Kael—focus less on force, more on flow. The fire already knows your name."
As the group wandered back toward the communal hall, Daran nudged Kael. "You're improving. I mean, you only blew up two training dummies this week. That's a record."
Kael rolled his eyes, smiling. "Hey, at least I'm not the one who tripped over his own wind blade yesterday."
"Low blow, man. Low blow."
The mess hall was lively with chatter and clinking bowls. Kael found himself seated between Elira and Daran, with a strange but comforting feeling growing in his chest. For the first time since the Cataclysm struck his life, things felt... normal.
They spent lunch exchanging stories. Elira talked about her homeland in the skybound cliffs and how she'd once used her wind powers to blow away an entire fruit stand during a village fair. Daran bragged about once arm-wrestling a mountain earth-user—and definitely losing.
Kael laughed so hard he nearly choked on his soup. "Okay, okay, that's worse than me blasting the roof off during sleep."
Daran grinned. "Barely."
Later that afternoon, they found themselves by the river edge just beyond the training grounds. Elira floated above the water, gliding with her wind currents while Daran skipped rocks using precise bursts of kinetic air. Kael sat on a rock, watching the sun reflect on the ripples.
"You know," Kael said, "when I first got here, I thought everyone would hate me. Or fear me."
Elira lowered herself down beside him. "You're not the only one with shadows. We all have pasts, Kael. What matters is what we build here. Together."
Daran added, "Also, you snore like a lava bear. So we can't possibly fear you."
Kael laughed, the sound echoing across the water.
Then, in a spontaneous moment, Elira conjured a small breeze that lifted a cluster of fallen leaves. She spun them around Daran's head like a crown.
"I hereby crown thee, Prince of Clumsy Wind," she declared.
Daran groaned. "This is bullying."
Kael grinned. "No, this is friendship."
As the sun began to dip beyond the treetops, the group returned to the central courtyard where Ravon was waiting with a surprise.
"This," Ravon said, unveiling a wooden board with carved elemental glyphs, "is the Ember Challenge. A test of teamwork and control. Three against time."
Elira's eyes lit up. "Is this like the trial we saw last month?"
"Exactly," Ravon replied. "You'll need to pass through five elemental stations—earth, water, wind, fire, and shadow. Complete each task before sunset."
Kael felt his heart race with excitement and a bit of nervousness. But when he looked at Elira and Daran beside him, he nodded with new confidence.
"We're ready."
The trial was tough but exhilarating. At the earth station, Daran used wind bursts to help Elira leap across a crumbling bridge, while Kael melted obstacles in their path. At the water station, Kael stumbled, his fire hissing in the mist—but Elira steadied him, teaching him to breathe, not fight.
At one point, they had to work together to form a bridge of spinning flame rings and wind currents to cross a lava channel—Kael almost fell in but was caught by Daran at the last second. They emerged coughing and laughing, cheeks smeared with ash.
"Let's never do that again," Kael wheezed.
"No promises," Elira said with a grin.
By the time they reached the final fire station, Kael had a steady flame dancing in both palms, moving in rhythm with his breath and steps.
Back at the courtyard, Ravon watched them approach with ash on their faces and pride in their eyes. "You're learning what it means to burn with purpose," he said.
That evening, Ravon joined them for dinner, and even cracked a rare smile when Kael told him how Elira's fruit-stand incident led to her being banned from her village's annual fair.
After dinner, they stayed up late around a small campfire outside the hall. Daran played a wooden flute, Elira told a story about sky pirates who used cloudships, and Kael stared into the flames, feeling—for the first time in years—completely at peace.
For now, the fire was gentle.
And Kael was not alone.