---
Emberling flared her tiny wings and chirruped proudly, as if she felt it too. The chamber brightened, not from lava, but from the newborn harmony between them. When Fenna stepped again, fire answered, curling not just from her palms but also from beneath the phoenix chick's talons, synchronized arcs tracing their movement.
It was no longer mimicry.
They moved together, danced together, flared and dimmed like a single ember split into two bodies. Each motion fed the other. Each flame reinforced the bond.
The Matron paused her circle, eyes narrowing with ancient clarity.
"She understands," Fenna whispered.
The Matron circled slowly around them, her eyes soft. "She feels you. Fire doesn't obey command. It obeys presence. Yours is finally becoming one."
Emberling flapped her wings and hovered for the briefest moment. It was no more than a blink but it was flight.
Sort of.
