From the teachings of The Radiant Path, the Book of Arcana, written in the Pure Tongue
Quel amrunyë lá, meril nai elenath.
Better to be without words, than to use those you don't fully understand.
Eira stood in the middle of the royal training yard, taking deep breaths as she focused on the swirling flames in her hands. The heat emanating from her magic was intense, but she was more than used to it by now. Freya and Fëandil stood on either side of her, their eyes fixed on her hands as they moved with practiced ease.
Fëandil, with his icy powers, had always been a natural complement to Eira's fire magic. Together, they had learned to control the elements with a level of precision that few other mages could match. Freya, on the other hand, brought her expertise as an archer and swordsman to their training sessions. Her keen eye and swift reflexes helped Eira to hone her combat skills. The two of them, twins of the King's Chief of the Royal Guard, were like mirror images of each other. Sunkissed olive skin, deep chestnut hair, and striking hazel-green eyes.
As Eira continued to focus on her magic, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The twins were always ready with suggestions or critiques and had already helped me make quite a few improvements today.
"Remember to keep your breathing steady," Freya reminded her, voice calm and reassuring. "And don't forget to keep your movements fluid."
Fëandil nodded in agreement. "You're doing great, Eira," he said. "Just keep your focus."
Eira closed her eyes and let her magic flow. She felt the power building within her, and Freya and Fëandil exchanged a knowing look, aware of Eira's tendency to get carried away. They had seen her unleash her magic in ways that had both impressed and terrified them, and they were always on guard when she was training.
Arin, her childhood friend and fellow courtly mage in training watched from a safe distance.
Her childhood training partner and best friend. Some days she was amazed they had found their way back to each other. When Eira had arrived at the castle months ago with Freya and Fëandil to accept the King's summons, she had sought him immediately after asking if he still attended court here. She had found him flirting with a group of young ladies by the stables, and when he had seen her, he had turned away quite rudely from a lady who was attempting to climb upon a mare, leaving her to fall out of the saddle with an indignant huff.
They both had tears in their eyes as they raced for the other, falling to the ground in a solid embrace. He had grown into a fine young man since they had been children, his skin the rich color of hazelnut and his cropped white hair gleaming in contrast.
They had laughed through their tears, and Arin had said, "I knew you had survived. I just couldn't stand the thought of losing the only fire mage who would talk to me."
She had come so far since she had last seen Arin, and he had been there every step of the way. Arin had been Eira's constant companion, sparring partner, and confidante. They trained together every morning, pushing each other to their limits and beyond. Arin had remained to be quick with a joke or a flirtatious remark, but Eira knew that he respected her power and skill. Eira treasured their friendship, knowing was the kind that could survive decades of separation, and yet when they reunited it would be as if only a day had passed.
"Careful now," Arin warned, his eyes fixed on Eira's hands as they danced with flames.
Eira gave him a saccharine smile. "Oh, relax," she crooned. "Progress can't be made with zealous caution," she added, alluding to a proverb that had been pounded into their heads since they were young mages. Timid magic is weak magic.
A small smile grew across Frey's delicate features at the reference. It had always been one of their favorites, though it had almost lost its charm due to excessive repetition. "Why don't you try creating a ring of fire? It would be a great defense against attackers."
Eira's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Good idea, Freya," she replied, the flames growing more intense as she began to shape them into a ring. She could feel the power building within her, the flames growing hotter and hotter until they were nearly unbearable.
Fëandil watched with approval as Eira pushed her limits. "That's better," he commented, studying the flame, then the exertion that must have been apparent on her features. "But Arin is not wrong. You need to be careful not to push yourself too far. You don't want to lose control, as I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the last time that happened."
Eira shoved down her anxiety at the thought of the accident and shrugged. The western corner of the training field was still singed from that incident. It almost seemed as though it had purposely been left as a reminder for her.
"I'm not going to lose control," she promised, feigning nonchalance. "I'm in complete command of my powers this time."
At his knowing look, she added a huff. "Gods above, fine, you may want to be ready with your ice, just in case."
"I always have such preparations ready when you're around." He responded with a frown and almost seemed offended by her statement.
She continued to shape the flames, bending them to her will with practiced ease. The ring of fire grew larger and more intense, the heat becoming almost unbearable. But Eira remained focused, even when she felt sweat from her forehead drip onto her eyelids. Eira knew from her time practicing in front of a mirror that if she were to look at herself, her eyes would be alive with blue flame.
"Always putting on a show, Eira," Arin drawled from where he leaned against a wall.
"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe it was you who told me to always put on a good show. Don't tell me you're intimidated by a little blue flame, Arin," she shot back. So what if she liked a little showmanship? He raised a white eyebrow in response, as if unamused.
Freya and Fëandil exchanged another look, their similar features tinged with worry. They had seen this side of Eira before, the side that was so consumed with power that she forgot about everything else.
"Hey, Eira," Fëandil called out, his voice laced with concern. Ice crackled along his fingertips. "Maybe it's time to take a break."
Eira ignored him, lost in the thrill of her magic. She was swept away in the power of her flame, how the embers roared in her heart. The flames whispered to her of how they could be something more, bringing her thoughts away from her training and to the previous night she had spent in the palace library, poring over ancient tomes on lost and forgotten fire magic. She remembered the musty smell of the old books and the excitement she felt when she stumbled upon a passage that caught her attention.
She had been reading about a spell that had the power to summon flames of any color from the very essence of the air around her. It was an advanced spell, one that had been incomplete, and the runes had been almost translucent with age. Eira had been half expecting the page to crumble under her fingers.
The royal librarian had gone out of his way to leave a parchment of paper at this section. She recalled her excitement upon seeing it fall out of the text, hoping for further clarification until she had read its contents.
Dear aspiring fire mages (EIRA),
I am sure that you are all infinitely wise and capable of wielding the untold power of fire magic with ease. However, let me remind you (EIRA) that fire is not to be lightly trifled with. This element has been known to incinerate everything in its path, including those who dare to underestimate its power. Any mistake or mispronunciation with such an advanced incantation could lead to unforetold misfortune.
So, by all means, go ahead and meddle with fire magic that you don't understand (EIRA). I'm sure it will turn out just fine.
Sincerely,
Someone who actually knows what they're talking about.
Eira still did not know how the scholar had known she would move on to this text but had scoffed at the warning. He never took her seriously anyway. She had tried to supplement what was missing with a few other texts but had ultimately given up. But the mere thought of mastering such an elusive spell sent shivers down her spine and caused her magic to thrum.
Eira snapped back to reality, reminded of her current training. She glanced over at Freya and Fëandil, who had paused their own sparring to watch her with weary anticipation. They didn't need to know she was going to try an experimental spell. After all, she was...fairly confident that she could fill in what the text had been missing with her own power. She could figure out the rest.
As Eira took a deep breath, she focused her mind on the lost spell she had been so keen to use, determined to perfect it. She extended her arms, palms up, and began the incantation, her voice low and steady. As she spoke the final words, the ring of flames before her erupted in a dazzling display of light and heat. Blue, green, gold, and red flames replaced what had just been an ordinary fire.
Freya and Fëandil gasped in amazement, their eyes widening as they watched the fiery display. Fëandil's ice seemed to dissipate in the presence of such heat.
Eira's heart swelled with pride at the success of her spell. That had just been the first part of the spell though and had been somewhat familiar to her, similar to other well-known techniques she had utilized before. For a moment, she basked in the admiration of her companions, reveling in the rush of power that coursed through her veins.
"See? Nothing to worry about. Now watch this." Eira smiled in anticipation. Freya only shook her head in bemusement.
Taking a small breath and closing her eyes to refocus, she began the second incantation. This part had been more foreign to her, but she had spent plenty of time analyzing what must have been ingrained on its pages. She could do this.
She felt another surge of energy and power. The flames began to dance around the sky, arching and weaving as though dancing to a wild unknown melody. She couldn't help but admire it as she spoke the final words, but then as Eira spoke, one of the runes come out strangled from her tongue.
"Tárienna!" Eira gasped, barely giving the warning in time before the rune blazed above her in a black fury, and the flames erupted into a wild inferno, spiraling out of control.
***
Well, that doesn't seem good, does it? 😶🌫️
Comment, vote, point out typos, and let me know what you think of this chapter, little mages! 🖤✨
I'm loving the scene inspo I found for a magical training field! What do you think of the image I chose for this chapter? The art above is by Heng Tang from Artstation.com
Here's more character art in the meantime!
Freya Sylfrost 🏹
Credit: https://waxanie.tumblr.com/
Fëadnil Sylfrost ❄️
Credit: http://tim42875.lofter.com/
Arin Zephyrus 🪐(couldn't find blue eyes)