The night pressed heavy around them, the whisper of the river the only sound breaking the silence. Aanha sat beside the dying embers of the small fire Sai had conjured— The faint blue flame didn't give much heat, but it cast enough light to chase away the darkness at the edges of the gorge.
She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the faint glow on the water. Her mind kept replaying everything — the figure, the fire, the voice in her head.
Aanha (quietly): Sai… that voice. It said something about… retrieval. What does that even mean?
Sai sat a few feet away, back against a rock, arms folded. The light caught the sharp outline of his jaw, his eyes reflecting the pale blue of the flame.
Sai: It means they don't plan to kill you.[He paused, gaze steady on her.]
Sai (lower): They plan to take you.
The words chilled her worse than the night air.
Aanha: Take me… for what?
Sai didn't answer. Instead, he tossed another fragment of glowing mineral into the flame. It flared briefly, humming.
Sai (after a beat): Sleep, Aanha. You'll need it.
She frowned. "Sleep? After that?"But when he didn't respond, she sighed, curling up by the fire, her bag under her head. The exhaustion finally caught her. The forest hummed softly around them, the sound of running water steady, almost protective.
Just before her eyes drifted shut, she heard him murmur—
Sai (soft, almost to himself): They found her faster than I thought…
And then darkness took her.
Morning came gently, sunlight threading through the mist. Birds called somewhere beyond the gorge, and the river shimmered in soft gold.
Aanha stirred, blinking at the brightness. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then she saw Sai—already awake, standing on a rock near the water, his coat fluttering in the morning breeze.
He turned slightly, as if he'd known she was watching.
Sai (calmly): You sleep like someone who doesn't trust the ground.
Aanha (half-glaring): Hard to trust anything after being attacked by a shadow monster.
Sai gave a small, amused huff. "Fair." He glanced toward the treeline, then motioned for her to stand.
Sai: Come here. I need to show you something.
She hesitated but walked closer. The air near the water felt… different. Warmer. When she looked down, faint lines of gold shimmered under the surface—like symbols moving just beneath the current.
Aanha (quietly): What is that?
Sai: The barrier. It responds to energy—specifically, yours.
Aanha [eyes widened]: Mine? Why?
Sai (serious): Because this isn't just a hiding place. It was built to recognize those with elemental blood.
Aanha:"Elemental blood…" she echoed, the phrase tasting foreign yet familiar.
He nodded slowly, eyes still on the river.
Sai: You're not just some random girl who woke up with fire in her hands, Aanha. You're part of something older. Something they've been trying to erase for years.
She felt her pulse quicken again, but this time it wasn't fear. It was the same heat she'd felt when the flames burst from her palm.
Aanha: Then tell me everything.
Sai turned fully toward her, the morning light cutting across his face. His expression was unreadable—caught somewhere between reluctance and resolve.
Sai (quietly): You'll know. But not here. Not yet.
Aanha (frowning): Why?
Sai: Because the more you know… the easier it becomes for them to track you.
The breeze stirred the trees again, carrying the faint scent of wet earth and smoke. Aanha met his gaze, fire flickering faintly in her irises as the reflection of sunlight danced there.
For the first time, Sai's lips curved—not in mockery, but in quiet acknowledgment.
Sai: But one thing's certain—your awakening wasn't an accident.
The wind shifted suddenly, rustling the trees in a strange rhythm. Sai's gaze flicked toward the horizon, his eyes narrowing.
Sai (under his breath): They're moving faster than I thought…
Aanha (worried): Who?
He looked back at her, the faintest edge of urgency creeping into his voice.
Sai: Pack up. We leave again tonight.
By midday, the air had grown warmer, and sunlight filtered through the canopy above the gorge in soft, scattered patches. Sai had led Aanha a little deeper into the forest, where the ground opened into a small clearing surrounded by stones slick with moss.
He stopped in the center and turned to her.
Sai (flatly): You said you wanted answers. Start by controlling what you awakened.
Aanha (nervous): You mean… the fire?
Sai: Unless you've discovered another trick overnight, yes.
She frowned at his tone but stepped closer anyway. Her hands still bore faint red traces, the skin smooth and unburned. She flexed her fingers, feeling that strange warmth hum beneath her skin again.
Aanha: It only came out when I panicked. I don't even know how I did it.
Sai (calm): Then stop thinking about how. Elemental magic isn't summoned by logic. It's called by instinct—by emotion.
He raised his hand and gestured toward the scorched patch of earth a few feet away.
Sai: Let's see what emotion drives yours.
Aanha took a breath, focusing on her palm. She tried to imagine the same heat, the same surge she'd felt when the cloaked figure attacked. But nothing happened.
Aanha (frustrated): I told you—it doesn't work like that! It just—happened!
Sai didn't respond right away. He walked closer until he was standing just a few feet from her, his eyes steady.
Sai (quietly): Then make it happen. Think about what you felt that night.
Her pulse quickened. "You mean when I thought I was about to die?"
He nodded once. "Exactly."
Aanha swallowed, anger and fear flickering in her chest like sparks. She closed her eyes—and in that instant, she remembered the hooded figure, the dark energy flying toward her, Sai's voice shouting, her own hand burning—
The air around her shimmered.
Flame burst to life around her fingers, swirling in a ring before flashing out like an ember caught in the wind.
Aanha gasped, staring at her hand. The fire hadn't burned her—it felt warm, alive, almost like it was breathing with her.
Sai (nodding slightly): Good. Now again—without fear.
She tried once more, this time focusing only on the warmth itself. The flame flickered but came slower, smaller. She frowned.
Aanha: It's weaker.
Sai: Because your power feeds on emotion. Fire reacts to what you feel, not what you think. You can't command it—you have to connect with it.
He reached out, touching the air near her hand. A faint ripple moved through the space, and the flame steadied.
Sai: See? It listens when you stop fighting it.
Aanha stared at the dancing flame, mesmerized. But then she noticed—within the fire's center, faint golden lines flickered, almost like markings.
Aanha (softly): There's… something inside it.
Sai's eyes darkened slightly. "Don't focus on that yet."
Aanha (insistent): But it's moving—it's like it's alive.
The moment she said it, the flame pulsed brighter—too bright. Sai stepped forward immediately, his hand cutting through the air.
Sai (sharp): Aanha! Focus!
She gasped, trying to pull the energy back, but the fire surged outward in a burst—then vanished, leaving the clearing steaming slightly.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Aanha panted, her palms still warm. "I—I didn't mean—"
Sai (low, controlled): You touched something deeper. That wasn't ordinary fire.
Aanha: Then what is it?
He hesitated, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said quietly—
Sai: It's the fire that remembers. The mark of your origin.
She frowned, confused. "What do you mean, remembers?"
Sai: You'll understand soon.
He turned away, picking up his coat from a nearby rock. "For now, we stop here. You're not ready to go further."
Aanha clenched her fists, frustration burning hotter than her magic.
Aanha: You keep saying that! When will I be ready? When you decide?
Sai looked back at her, eyes sharp but not unkind.
Sai: When you stop asking and start listening.
He started walking back toward the gorge, the afternoon light flickering through the trees as it followed him.
Aanha stood there, the faint golden traces still glowing under her skin. She looked at her hand again—and this time, when she whispered softly to herself, the flame answered with a quiet flicker.
That evening, the sky turned a deep bruised orange before fading into violet. The forest around the gorge had gone quieter than usual—too quiet. Even the cicadas had stopped.