The training grounds of the Elementalism Division pulsed with the residual heat of morning practice. Sparks danced in the air, fading into smoke, and the ground bore scorch marks from students testing the first principles of elemental transformation. Nara exhaled slowly, flames flickering along her knuckles. This was the moment she had been waiting for—the mastery of fire beyond mere control.
Yet the deeper she delved into the teachings, the more frustrated she became.
The instructor, an older man with a weathered face, paced before the gathered students. "Elemental transformation requires precision. You are not simply channeling fire—you are becoming it. Each element follows a structured process, a set of principles developed over centuries."
Nara clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to argue.
They acted like fire was something contained, something that followed rules. But fire wasn't neat. It was wild, untamed, consuming. It moved, not because it was given permission, but because it wanted to.
The lesson continued, but Nara struggled to follow. She wasn't the only one. Across the training ground, a student muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. Nara recognized him—Orlin, one of the more disciplined students in the division. He had always been by the book, a firm believer in structure over instinct.
His disapproving stare found her as he spoke. "You're doing it wrong."
Nara frowned. "Excuse me?"
"Your stance is off. Your control is messy. If you keep channeling fire like that, you'll never reach transformation."
Nara scoffed. "Fire isn't something you control with rigid form. You adapt to it."
Orlin folded his arms. "And that's exactly why you're stuck."
Several students turned to watch as the tension between them thickened.
"Fire isn't something you just let happen," Orlin continued. "It follows patterns, principles. If you don't respect those rules, you'll never master elemental transformation."
Nara felt the familiar heat of irritation rising in her chest. "So you think fire is just a formula? A series of equations to be solved?"
"That's exactly what it is," Orlin replied, tone sharp. "The greatest elementalists didn't rely on raw emotion. They studied the fire, they broke it down to its core. Instinct will only get you so far."
"Maybe for you," Nara shot back. "But I don't see fire as something to be caged."
The instructor, who had been silent up until now, finally stepped forward. "A debate is meaningless without proof." His gaze swept over them. "Resolve this practically."
Nara's pulse quickened. A duel.
The instructor gestured to the sparring circle, where countless students had tested their methods against one another. "You both believe in your approach—then prove which is superior."
Orlin smirked. "Fine by me."
Nara exhaled, stepping into the circle. She wasn't afraid of the fight. She was afraid of what losing might mean.
The moment the duel began, Orlin moved with precise footwork, his hands forming measured gestures as he gathered fire into an orb of swirling heat. Every motion was deliberate, calculated, executed with perfect discipline.
Nara, in contrast, moved on instinct. Fire danced along her arms, coiling and snapping like a living thing. She let it flow, shaping it not through memorized sequences, but through feeling.
Orlin struck first, releasing a controlled blast of flame that surged toward her. Nara twisted to the side, barely dodging as the fire singed the air. She retaliated, flaring her own flames outward in an erratic, unpredictable wave.
Orlin countered smoothly, redirecting her attack with a precise movement, dispersing the energy. "You see?" he said, voice calm. "Control wins."
Nara gritted her teeth. Was he right? No—she refused to believe that.
She let the fire guide her. The next time Orlin attacked, she didn't evade in a predictable pattern. She moved with the flicker of the flames, slipping between bursts of heat like a wildfire shifting with the wind. Her fire lashed out, twisting unpredictably, catching Orlin off guard.
He scowled, momentarily thrown off balance.
Nara pressed forward, launching a spiraling arc of flame. It wasn't controlled in the way Orlin's was—but that was the point. Fire wasn't predictable. It changed, adapted, consumed.
Orlin had to shift away from his structured approach, forced into reacting instead of executing his careful sequences. The moment his rhythm faltered, Nara's flames broke through his defense, knocking him backward.
The duel ended with a sharp gust of steam as the instructor waved a hand, extinguishing the lingering fire. Silence settled over the training ground.
Nara breathed heavily, heart pounding. She had won.
Orlin, kneeling on the scorched ground, looked up at her with something between frustration and understanding.
The instructor nodded. "An interesting result."
Orlin exhaled sharply before standing. "You're reckless," he muttered. "But… maybe there's something to it."
Nara raised an eyebrow. "You admitting you were wrong?"
Orlin shook his head. "Not entirely. Your fire is powerful, but it lacks direction. If you could balance instinct with refinement, you'd be unstoppable."
Nara considered his words. She had won, but it hadn't been an easy victory. Was there a place where structure and instinct could meet?
The instructor's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Elemental transformation requires an understanding of both principles. Nara, your instinct allows you to move fluidly, but without refinement, you will never fully master the element. Orlin, your structure gives you control, but without adaptability, you will always be vulnerable to the unpredictable."
Nara frowned but nodded. The duel hadn't settled the argument—it had only deepened the question.
As the students dispersed, Nara found herself staring at her hands, fire still flickering at her fingertips. She had always believed that fire should be free, but maybe… freedom wasn't the same as chaos.
She wasn't sure if she liked that thought.
But she was willing to explore it.