Chapter 25: Master Kael

Ignis finally stirred, his fiery body pulsing with an ancient energy, the warmth of his presence radiating through the dimly lit chamber. His feathers shimmered, flickering between gold and deep crimson as he regarded Liam with knowing eyes.

"Patience, Liam," the phoenix said, his voice a quiet rumble that carried both power and reassurance. "She will come—but expect the unexpected."

Liam frowned, turning to face Ignis fully. “What does that even mean?” His tone was edged with frustration, though beneath it, there was something else—something far more vulnerable.

Ignis tilted his head, the embers beneath his talons pulsing softly. "It is not my place to tell you. You must discover her on your own."

Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples before shifting his gaze toward the window. His thoughts drifted, unbidden, toward Ember—the fiery-haired stranger who had unsettled something deep within him.

Something about her—about the way she moved, the way she met his eyes without hesitation—reminded him of fire itself. Uncontrolled. Unpredictable. Dangerous, yet mesmerizing.

She was nothing like the noblewomen who had been paraded before him, nothing like Alison with her perfected smiles and sharp remarks. Ember was untamed, unknowable. She carried something beneath her skin, something fierce, something waiting to break free.

A quiet sadness crept into his chest, something he refused to name.

“I must sleep,” he muttered. “I have to train a new soldier tomorrow.”

Ignis remained still, watching Liam for a moment longer before bowing his head in understanding. Then, without another word, he dissolved into the flames of the hearth, his presence retreating—but never truly gone.

The fire continued to crackle, though it burned softer now, as if the phoenix’s departure had tamed its wild energy.

Liam sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the flickering light. He ran a hand down his face, willing himself to push her from his mind, to obey his father, to accept his fate without question.

But the moment he closed his eyes, Ember surfaced once again.

The way she had stood her ground, fierce despite her vulnerability. The defiance in her golden-red gaze. The stubbornness in her voice.

She was different.

And as much as Liam wanted to pretend otherwise, Ignis’s words haunted him.

"Expect the unexpected."

He wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

And for the first time in his life, Liam felt his destiny shifting, pulling him toward something he was not ready to face.

--

The forest had grown colder, its shadows deeper, as Eira pressed on. Days had passed since she fled the clearing, since she left Samantha’s grave behind. The fiery tug in her chest had dulled to a faint thrum, but it was still there—guiding her, pulling her toward something she couldn’t yet see. Her frost powers flickered more frequently now, the cold biting at her fingertips as her emotions churned.

She hadn’t stopped moving. Every step was driven by anger, by grief, by the burning need for answers. She didn’t know what she would do when she found Ember, but the thought of her sister—the one she blamed for Samantha’s death—kept her going.

But as the cold deepened, so did the voice inside her mind.

"Your heart is clouded, frostborn," Nyx finally spoke, his voice a low, steady rumble.

Eira exhaled sharply, gripping the fabric of her cloak as she walked. “Don’t start.”

Nyx’s presence lingered around her, unseen but undeniably there. "Vengeance without clarity leads to ruin. You feel her pull, but your mind is consumed by fury. What will you do when you find her?"

Eira’s steps faltered for only a moment. "I don’t know." The admission was bitter.

"Then think before the moment comes. The truth is never as simple as your rage makes it seem."

Eira clenched her fists, her frost powers sparking in response to the turmoil inside her. She didn’t want wisdom. She wanted action.

As she walked through the dense woods, the trees thinning as the path became more familiar, she felt her master’s presence before she even saw him. The house—a modest yet sturdy structure tucked deep within the wilderness—came into view, its wooden beams worn but strong, its entrance guarded only by the thick silence of nature.

Master Kael stood in front of the house, arms crossed, his sharp silver eyes watching her approach with quiet scrutiny. He had always been that way—measuring her movements, reading her emotions even when she thought she was hiding them well.

“You’re late,” he said simply.

Eira exhaled, forcing herself to stand taller. “I had to—”

“You had to chase ghosts,” Kael interrupted, his tone neither harsh nor gentle. “You had to bury someone who mattered to you. And now you’re here, carrying the weight of revenge like a blade you don’t know how to wield.”

Eira gritted her teeth, the frost around her fingertips deepening. “Samantha is dead," she said, voice tense. "And it’s because of her—because of Ember.”

Kael studied her carefully before nodding. “Then you may stay here.”

Eira’s breath caught. She had expected him to refuse her—to tell her vengeance wasn’t reason enough to train.

“You need to continue your training,” Kael said, his voice cool, measured. “You’re not strong enough yet.”

Eira stared at him, lost in thought. For all the years she had trained under him, she had never truly noticed his face until now.

His beautiful blue eyes flickered in the light, sharp and unreadable. His muscular frame, lean yet strong, barely hidden beneath his worn tunic. Handsome—she had no idea how handsome he was.

"Eira."

She blinked rapidly, realizing she had been staring too long.

“I—I'm sorry, Master.”

Kael didn’t acknowledge the lapse. “You must stay focused, Eira. The world is dangerous, and you are alone. Let’s train.”

Without another word, Kael thrust out his hand, summoning a strong water whip that lashed toward her.

Eira barely had time to react. She raised an ice shield, forming the thick barrier before her—but when the water struck, it cracked beneath the force.

“Weak!" Kael shouted.

The water whip lashed forward again.

Eira brought up her shield, but she was too slow—the whip hit her arm, sending her stumbling to the ground.

Pain burned through her limb, cold seeping into her muscles where the water had struck.

Kael stepped forward, looking down at her. His expression was unreadable.

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, then leave.”

Eira looked up, stunned.

Kael turned away without waiting for her answer, walking toward the villa, his movements calm, dismissive.

Eira remained on the ground, breathing heavily, her body aching as her mind reeled. Tears welled in her eyes, frustration and exhaustion crashing together in a storm of emotions.

She shook her head sharply.

“I’m not weak, Master Kael!" she shouted after him.

Kael paused, turning slightly. His gaze settled on her—her teary eyes, her trembling body, the defiance still burning beneath the exhaustion.

For a moment, he saw her differently.

She looked like a snow sculpture—delicate yet powerful, carved by the harshness of winter, beautiful in a way that should have been impossible.

But he shook his head, clearing the thought.

“This is my student,” he reminded himself.

He exhaled slowly. “Rest and eat, Eira.” His voice was firm, but not unkind. “We will begin training tomorrow.”

Without another word, he disappeared into the villa.

Eira remained where she was, her breathing uneven, her mind racing.

She had come here seeking strength, demanding it through rage and grief. But Kael had reminded her of a truth she had refused to face.

Strength was not fueled by emotion alone. It was forged through control.

And if she wanted to defeat Ember—if she wanted to truly understand the force pulling her toward her sister—she would need far more than just vengeance.

She would need discipline.

Tomorrow, she would prove herself.

Tomorrow, she would be ready.