The forge-adjacent training chamber was warm—but not violently so.
It was the kind of heat that settled into the bones, steady and embracing, like embers buried beneath ash. The stone walls glowed faintly red along their veins, responding to the presence of fire mana in the room. No flames burned openly, yet the air shimmered as if fire itself were breathing.
Aurelia stood barefoot at the center of the chamber.
Her eyes were closed. Her breathing slow. Mana circulated within her in measured waves, rising from her core and spreading outward—not flaring, not forcing.
Elder Hilda watched from a short distance away, arms folded, posture relaxed but attentive. Her presence alone was enough to stabilize the space; the fire mana here did not rage, did not rebel. It listened.
After a long moment, Aurelia opened her eyes.
"…Master," she said quietly. "There's something I don't understand."
Hilda's gaze shifted to her. "Speak."
Aurelia hesitated, searching for the right words.
