The secret chamber beneath the east wing had been sealed for centuries—an ancient hall of stone and runes, where forgotten experiments and sealed scrolls lay buried in shadows. Only Kael knew the hidden entrance, concealed behind a rusted suit of armor that no one dared disturb.
The moment the door sealed behind them, Yohan felt the air shift. The ground beneath his feet was warm, the faint pulse of red light beating in sync with his own heart. Faint streams of crimson pulsed like veins beneath the floor, whispering secrets only he could sense.
"Why here?" Yohan asked, voice low, eyes sweeping over the shadowed hall.
Kael drew a symbol in the air—an ancient sigil that shimmered with faint flame. "Because this place remembers what the Academy chose to forget." His voice was steady, heavy with purpose.
Yohan didn't reply. His hand twitched, and the scar on his chest burned faintly, reacting to the ambient energy like a living thing craving release.
Kael watched him in silence. "You've felt it before— that moment when your flame awakens before your mind commands. Haven't you?"
Yohan nodded slightly. "It's not control. It's... craving. Like it wants something."
Kael took a step closer. "That's because it is. Flame is not just destruction, Yohan. It's hunger— the oldest will of the world. You can't fight it. You can only learn to direct it."
He raised a hand, summoning a sphere of flickering fire that spun above his palm, alive with energy. "Try now."
Yohan extended his hand. The air wavered, sparks flickering at his fingertips—the first sign of the fire within him stirring. Then, with a roar, his power burst forth—blinding, wild, uncontrollable.
Kael's eyes widened in alarm.
"Steady—!" he shouted, but Yohan did not hear him. The flames surged, licking the walls with ancient fury.
The air crackled with tension. Shadows danced in the flickering firelight, and the glyphs on the floor ignited, spilling light in every direction.
Kael raised his staff, casting a ward to contain the chaos. But the flames refused restraint, wrapping around him like a living beast.
Yohan's face seemed to melt into a mask of primal anger and fear, an echo of something older—something that refused to be caged.
The room trembled, then finally, Yohan's flames subsided. Exhausted, he collapsed to his knees, panting hard. His hands shook—fingers trembling with the residual heat of the unbridled fire.
Kael lowered his staff slowly. "You've crossed a line," he said quietly. "Control will come... if you are willing to let it."
Yohan looked up, eyes burning with a mixture of rage and something darker—desperation.
"Or... perhaps," he whispered, voice hollow, "I was never meant to control it."
Kael's face darkened. "Balance isn't about suppression, Yohan. It's about harmony. Without it, you may burn not only yourself, but everything around you."
Yohan's gaze flickered—uncertain, restless.
"Then teach me," he said finally. "Teach me how to not be afraid of what I am."
Kael nodded slowly, knowing this was only the beginning. The flames in Yohan's heart had been awakened. Now, it was time to learn whether they would consume him or forge him anew.