He shut his eyes, breathing deep, the air sharp in his throat. Mana stirred in his chest, warm and restless, a coal waiting to catch. Ignis velum, the book said—focus heat, let it bloom slow. He'd tried it under the stars, flopped fast, but he was Intermediate now, wasn't he? Seraphine's voice stuck—you've got talent, keep pushing—and he clung to it, palms lifting slow. "Ignis velum," he whispered, pushing the warmth out, picturing it wrapping him tight.
A shimmer sparked—orange, thin—curling over his hands like smoke off a dying fire. It crept up his arms, faint flames licking the air, warm but shaky, a veil that didn't bite his skin. His heart thudded, counting—one, two, three—the heat pulsing fragile, a shield he could almost believe in. He held it, breath shallow, the glow dancing in his eyes. Maybe this was it—something to beat the sun, something real.
Then it wavered. Kazu's voice hissed in—you'll screw it up, always do—and his focus cracked, a memory flashing: rain-soaked rooftop, Hiro's hand slipping, his own grip too weak, that scream swallowed by the storm. The flames sputtered, embers drifting to the dirt, and a sting pricked his gums—fangs nudging, hunger twitching awake. "Damn it," he muttered, shaking his hands out, the last sparks fading. Not enough. Not close.
Footsteps thudded up the path—hard, quick, kicking dust—and Lirien rounded the corner, braid bouncing tight, tunic streaked with dirt from who-knows-what. She stopped short, green eyes narrowing at the spellbook, then him, her arms crossing sharp. "What're you doing?" she asked, voice cutting like a blade. "Sitting around with that thing again?"
"Practicing," Kaelith said, flat, shutting the book with a soft thud. He leaned back, elbows on the wall, meeting her stare. "What's it to you?"
She snorted, loud and dry, stepping closer, her shadow falling over him. "Practicing what? More fancy tricks? Thought you were gonna beat the sun, not play with sparks." Her lip curled, a sneer sharper than he'd seen lately, her boots scuffing the dirt. "Looks soft to me."
His jaw tightened, a flicker of heat spiking—not mana, just him. Kazu'd shrink from that—hide, mumble, let it slide—but Kaelith's hands flexed, the pendant tapping faster. "It's not soft," he said, sharper, standing slow, the book tucked under his arm. "It's work."
"Work?" She laughed, short and harsh, kicking a clump of dirt that scattered near his feet. "Looks like sitting. Bet I could take you again—no sword, no magic, just fists—and you'd still flop like last time." Her eyes glinted, daring him, her grin jagged and mean.
He stared back, red against green, her taunt digging deep. She'd pinned him yesterday—knees on his shoulders, dirt in his face—and crowed about it all morning. Kazu'd dodged fights—curled up, let Hiro take the hits—but Kaelith wasn't him, not anymore. His chest tightened, not fear, just something itching to shove back. "Prove it," he said, low, stepping forward, the book dropping to the ground with a dull thump. "Right now."
Her grin flashed, fierce and wild, and she dropped her arms, squaring up, fists loose but ready. "Oh, you're on, mage boy."
He mirrored her, feet planting wide, the dirt cool under his soles. No magic—fair, he'd give her that—but his vampire edge hummed, speed and strength coiled tight. He wouldn't use it—not all of it. She'd notice, and he wasn't spilling that yet. Lirien didn't wait—lunged fast, fist swinging at his chest. He twisted, barely, her knuckles grazing his ribs, a sting that woke him up.
"Too slow!" she barked, circling, her braid whipping as she swung again—low, aiming for his gut. He sidestepped, clumsy, his breath hitching, and threw a jab—quick, sloppy—at her shoulder. She ducked, grinning, and hooked a punch at his side. It landed, a thud that jolted him, and he hissed, stumbling back.
"Soft!" she taunted, pressing in, fists up. He gritted his teeth, lunging—faster this time, fist clipping her arm. She yelped, more surprise than pain, and shoved him hard, both hands slamming his chest. He staggered, boots sliding, and she charged—tackling him full-on.
They hit the dirt, a tangle of elbows and knees, her weight pinning him down. She straddled his chest, knees clamping his arms, her grin looming close, breath hot on his face. "Got you," she panted, her braid dangling, brushing his cheek, her pulse thudding loud—too loud—in his ears.
Kaelith glared up, chest heaving, the dirt grinding into his back, her heat pressing him flat. Her heartbeat pounded—a rhythm he couldn't unhear, her sweat sharp, flooding his head. His gums ached, fangs pressing hard, the hunger surging, clawing up his throat. Kazu's voice hissed—weak, always weak—and he saw Hiro's face, rain-streaked, slipping away. He turned his head sharp, cheek scraping the dirt, hiding the prick of fangs. "Get off," he growled, voice tight, shoving at her with his elbows, his breath ragged.
She froze, her grin faltering, her knees still pinning him down. "What's wrong?" she asked, squinting, her tone shifting—less taunt, more edge. "You hurt?"
"No," he snapped, shoving harder, his hands trembling as he pushed against her weight. The hunger pulsed—her pulse, her warmth, too damn close—and he clenched his jaw, fighting it down. "Just… get off."
She lingered a beat, eyes narrowing, then slid off slow, standing with a huff. Kaelith rolled up, dirt clinging to his tunic, his breath uneven, hands shaking as he brushed it off. She crossed her arms, staring him down, her grin gone. "You're weird today," she said, low, kicking at the spellbook where it lay. "All moody and weak. What's up with you?"