Chapter 9 #2
“So most elemental mages are born in the worlds tied to their magic?” I asked quickly.
“For the most part, yes. There are exceptions,” Stasia said, studying me more carefully. “Usually when mages move to the human world for one reason or another.”
“They rarely do that, don’t they?” I guessed.
Stasia nodded.
“Your magic is tied to plants and biochemistry...” I thought aloud, keeping my eyes on her. “So what world are you from? And Tarven, considering he’s an earth mage...”
My voice trailed off as my brain threatened to collapse under the weight of all these connections.
Mr. Shiford had said people in Vuduarus lacked a properly developed demonic gene, which was why there was no magic in the human world.
At least not openly.
“Our magical abilities originate from Vuduarus,” Stasia explained patiently. “But people there are rarely born with a naturally developed demonic gene the way they are in the other worlds.”
“And if a mage is born there,” she continued, “they’re usually transferred to another world—most often Istarus, since it’s basically the heart of magic and all its branches.”
“Is it possible for ordinary humans to have a magical child?” I asked.
I already knew Mr. Shiford’s opinion on the matter, but Stasia and Tarven were directly connected to the powers of the earth world.
Maybe they knew more.
“No.” Stasia shook her head. “It’s passed down genetically.”
I froze.
I’d suspected it.
But I’d never fully accepted it as truth.
And if that was true—
then who were my real parents?
What kind of beings could produce a child born with both fire magic and the ability to communicate with spirits?
“I was born and raised in Utararus, the Realm of Light,” Stasia said. “And Tarven was born in Istarus.”
“Alright, Stasia. Let’s head to the arena.”
Tarven’s voice cut through the conversation, and I hadn’t even noticed when he and Airis had returned.
Glancing toward Airis, I found the same cold, unreadable expression on his face—
except now there was unmistakable suspicion beneath it.
Fantastic.
Just fucking fantastic.
At this rate, my throat was going to become very familiar with his dagger.
“See you around,” Stasia said with a wink before hurrying after Tarven.
“Nice meeting you,” Tarven called, waving without turning around.
“Likewise,” I murmured, shifting my attention back to Airis.
“If I end up with your blade at my throat again today after whatever Tarven just told you, I’m seriously considering sleeping in the bathroom.”
“There won’t be any need for that,” Airis replied, flicking his hand as yesterday’s targets reappeared across the training hall. “Daggers aren’t the only way I know how to threaten people.”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
“They’re far from my only weapon.”
I exhaled slowly.
At the same time, silently praying he meant it as a joke.
“Now,” he nodded toward the targets, “back to training.”
Holding out my palm, I summoned a small flame again, making it larger this time.
Though honestly, I was pretty sure it was pointless.
I still couldn’t release the fire properly or hit any of the targets.
At least not on my second day of training.
I learned slowly.
Everything I could do now had taken years of training under Gwendolyn and Dwayne’s ridiculous system.
“Picture the fire slowly separating from your hand,” Airis reminded me.
I closed my eyes.
I tried to feel the flame as something separate from myself, because right now it still felt like part of me.
Like it was stitched into my skin.
But nothing happened.
“You know…” I muttered without opening my eyes, “maybe I’m just not capable of shooting it. Maybe shields are more my thing.”
I waited for an answer.
But the moment I felt fingers brush the bare skin of my waist, my entire body jerked.
My eyes flew open—
and instantly I felt the fire leave my hand.
And no—
it didn’t disappear.
It shot away from me.
Landing about a meter from my boots.
Holy shit.
“Looks like you actually can shoot it,” Airis’s voice came from behind me, his warmth pressed against my back. “Now we just have to teach you how to aim.”
“Yeah. Without your hands involved,” I muttered.
“If you want that to stop as quickly as possible, then you should focus harder,” he replied smoothly. “Now summon the fire again.”
“And what? You’re just going to keep touching me until I figure it out?” I arched a brow, even though he couldn’t see it, and summoned another small flame.
“Exactly.”
He said it so casually that it somehow made it worse.
“And if you don’t want me thinking you enjoy my touch, you should probably concentrate, Fireling.”
And then his lips brushed my earlobe.
Briefly.
But it was enough.
The fire not only shot away from me this time—
it grew larger too.
“Nope. This is complete bullshit,” I scoffed, praying he couldn’t tell how flustered I actually was.
“Apparently, this is the only thing that works on you,” he replied.
I sighed and summoned the fire again, desperately trying to focus on the flame instead of Airis and the consequences of his games.
“Focus on the sensation in your hand,” he murmured.
“Not on the places where I touch you.”
Closing my eyes again, I concentrated on the feeling in my palm—
and this time, I finally noticed something different.
The fire felt separate from me.
I wanted to tell Airis, but I didn’t get the chance.
The moment his hand slid slowly along my bare arm, the flame burst from my palm and flew farther than ever before.
My eyes snapped open.
I understood it.
Or at least I thought I did.
I summoned the fire again and focused first on feeling it as something separate from myself.
I imagined its sharp edges softening, rounding into a sphere I could rotate in my palm, turning it from side to side.
And holy shit.
It worked.
Then I lowered my arm sharply, and for a split second, the fireball hovered freely in the air.
I struck it forward.
And it flew.
Not toward the target, obviously—
but the shot was strong, and the sphere landed several meters farther than all my previous attempts combined.
“Good girl,” Airis said as he finally stepped away from me.
“Now we work on your aim.”
******
“Am I even more suspicious in your eyes now?” I asked as I walked past Airis, who was holding open the main doors of the training hall.
Fresh, rain-soaked air filled my lungs.
As if it had rained only minutes ago.
“If you tell me how you know about my bond with the harpy, my level of suspicion might decrease,” he replied, shutting the doors behind us.
“If that’s the only way, then I suppose I’ll remain your prime suspect,” I shrugged, already heading toward the dormitory building where Airis’s room was located.
“We’re going somewhere else,” he said, nodding in the opposite direction.
The moment I realized he meant another walk through the forest, I let out an annoyed groan.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked, changing course. “Are we going back to that cliff?”
“No. This time it’s nearby.”
He fell into step beside me.
And once again, silence settled between us.
I could probably get used to silence.
But this one offered no comfort.
There were too many things left unsaid between us.
Not wanting to spiral into thoughts about whatever this strange thing between us was becoming, I returned to what Stasia had said earlier.