Pheo paused, meeting her gaze evenly with his mind already set on a location. "The Crimson Hall." Anora studied him for a long, quiet moment, as though weighing his resolve. Then, slowly, she nodded. "The Crimson Hall it is."
They left the training grounds behind, the sound of the Hollow Ravens' drills fading into the distance. The air grew quieter as they followed a path toward the looming spires of The Crimson Hall.
Anora walked just a step ahead of him, her pace casual, but her eyes sharp with unspoken questions. Finally, she broke the silence. "So tell me, Pheo… What was the reason you chose this place as your reward from The Director?"
Pheo stiffened. Of course she'd ask about that, it was a peculiar choice after all. Anora wasn't the type to let odd details slip by unnoticed. He could feel the weight of her gaze before he answered.
"I can't say the reason why." He kept his tone even, measured. "It's… a secret that's for the better of the city." For a moment, Anora's expression didn't change. He saw her eyes flash silver, a faint glimmer that flickered like moonlight on water.
The hairs on Pheo's arms prickled. She was using her gift, testing the truth of his words. Her smirk softened just barely, as if in confirmation. "Hm. You're not lying." Pheo let out the smallest breath of relief, though he kept his face steady.
Anora tilted her head, curiosity still in her eyes but restrained now, checked by the truth she'd seen. "Since you can't tell me, I guess it's for the better that I don't. At least for now."
The rest of their walk settles into silence, The Crimson Hall rising larger before them. The doors groaned as they pushed inside, the sound echoing through the vast chamber. The cool air brushed against them, heavy with the faint scent of old stone and iron.
Anora's boots clicked softly against the stone as she glanced around the empty expanse. "This," she said, her voice low but steady, "is perfect. No eyes or ears. A vast empty space with no chance of interruption."
Pheo frowned, glancing up at the sweeping arches that swallowed their voices. "Why wouldn't we want to be seen?" Anora turned her head slightly, silver eyes catching a sliver of light.
"Because it's better this way. If others found out you were being personally taught by me… well, let's just say it invites trouble for you. Plus, we wouldn't want some passerby to see your gift wouldn't we?"
Her tone left no room for argument, yet something about it made unease stir in Pheo's chest. Still, he nodded, pushing the doubt aside. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they moved deeper into the Crimson Hall, the vast silence swallowing the sound as if the building itself wanted their presence hidden.
The shafts of crimson light grew thinner the farther they went, until the world narrowed into shadows. Anora slowed her pace, her eyes flicking toward the long corridor ahead. "This far in?" she asked. "Is this really necessary? No one will bother us closer to the entrance."
"Yes," Pheo said, sharper than he meant to, his certainty leaving no room for doubt. He didn't look at her, didn't slow his steps. "If I'm going to tell you, it has to be here. There's no room for mistakes."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, then she gave a small shrug, letting it go. "Alright then. Lead the way, Golden Boy." Pheo looked at her oddly, "Please don't call me that."
When they finally stopped, the chamber around them was draped in stillness. The red glow from the high windows barely reached there, leaving only dim outlines of columns and walls.
It was the kind of place where voices couldn't escape, where secrets could live and die in the dark. Pheo turned to face her. If he wanted her help, if he wanted to keep his secret from the wrong ears, he needed to trust her now.
"You wanted the truth," he said quietly. Anora tilted her head, and silver flames bloomed across her eyes. "I did." Pheo drew a breath, steadying himself. "Well, it doesn't differ much from what you know already."
"I don't know exactly what it is. This golden flame inside me, it's only appeared twice. In both cases I was up against something strong, when I was moments away from death. When it did appear, it felt… Natural. As if I knew exactly what I was doing when I used it."
His fists clenched at his sides. "I can't really explain it, I don't know how it works or its capabilities, but deep inside me I know that it's there to help me. I've searched for answers. Books, myths, anything that might sound similar, but I've found nothing."
The words left him raw. Speaking them aloud made the uncertainty heavier, a weight that clung to his chest. For a moment, Anora said nothing, her eyes still locked onto him. The silence stretched until he wondered if she'd call him a liar regardless.
But instead, her lips curved into the faintest of smirks. "An irregularity," she repeated softly, as if tasting the word. Then her eyes dimmed back to their usual color, though the sharpness in her gaze didn't fade. "At least you're honest enough to admit you don't understand it."
Anora crossed her arms, her expression unreadable for a long moment. "Honestly, I didn't expect to learn much," she admitted, her tone carrying no malice, just a blunt fact. "But I still needed to hear it in your own words. That should be enough for now."
Pheo frowned. "So what now–"
"Now," she cut him off, her eyes narrowing, "we stop talking." She tilted her head back, as if measuring him. "You said your flame only came out twice, when you're about to die. Right? Then the first thing we should try out is to push you there."
His stomach dropped. "Wait. You mean–"
"Grit your teeth."
Before he could say anything else, she moved. Her fist blurred toward him, and he barely ducked in time, the impact cracking stone where his head had been. Dust and shards fell at his feet.
"Are you insane?!?" Pheo yelped, scrambling backwards. "How the hell can you even crack a wall?" He asked, scared but also surprised of her strength. "Just treat it like survival training," Anora barked, already pressing forward.
She then kicked low, sweeping his legs with surgical precision. Pheo leapt back, the sole of her boot grazing his ankle hard enough to sting. He stumbled, heart hammering. "This isn't training. Training has tips, pointers to help!"
"Fine. Don't get hit!" She said before she drove her elbow towards his ribs. He twisted aside, the strike slamming into the pillar instead. Stones cracked and rained around them. "Move faster!" she snapped, already pivoting into a spin, her heel cutting through the air toward his head.
"I'm moving as fast as I can!" Pheo threw himself into a desperate roll, her kick slamming into the ground behind him with a bone-shaking crack. He scrambled upright, chest heaving. "I can't fight you like this, I don't even know how!"
"That's the point."
She didn't give him time to breathe. A flurry of punches followed. A straight, right hook, uppercut… They were so fast that they blurred together. He managed to block one with his forearm, but the shock reverberated through his bones, leaving his arm numb.
"Anora!" he gasped, dodging left as her knee surged up toward his stomach. "Don't forget I'm still a kid!" he gasped, quickly ducking as her foot barely brushed his hair. "If you keep this up, I really will die!"
"Exactly."
Her palm thrust forward, a spear of force aimed at his chest. He twisted just in time, the air from the strike grazing his cheek like a blade. She was relentless, even when she knew she was fighting someone not even past ten.
Every strike she did was becoming sharper and closer, narrowing his options as time went on until all he could do was stumble, roll, or throw himself out of reach. His lungs burned, his legs screaming as she continued to press him.
It was like a predator playing with her prey, waiting to see if it would break or bare its fangs for a futile attempt of fighting back. Beneath all the pressure that Pheo went through, all the burn and pain, he could feel it.
A spark.
Heat was stirring, not the kind you feel when you exert your muscles, a different kind that made Pheo feel as if Anora was less of a threat and more of a nuisance. His heart clenched, body trembling not from exhaustion, but from something else rising.
Pheo's eyes then lit up, a golden light flickering like embers at first before burning brighter. Anora's gaze sharpened. "There it is." She said before pressing even harder, her barrage no longer measured but merciless, determined to push him past his limit.
And then it happened.
The Golden Flame surged. Not from his hands, not from his body, but from his gaze. A radiance poured out, unseen yet inescapable. It reached out towards her, moving faster than any person could.
Anora's body jerked backwards. For the first time, her precision faltered. Within seconds the flame had caught her, wrapping around her like a living shroud. "What–?" Her voice cracked as the golden fire enveloped her form.
It didn't burn her flesh. Instead, it sank deeper, pressing down on her very core. Her strength drained as if siphoned away, her limbs heavy, almost unresponsive. The Hollow Raven commander staggered, her efforts weakening.
The flames bound her like invisible chains, forcing her down to her knees. Her breaths grew shallow, ragged, her body trembling under the weight of a fire that felt older than the world itself.
And with one last exhale, Anora collapsed. The golden light around her dimmed, fading like smoke in the wind. The glow in Pheo's eyes sputtered and vanished, leaving only his wide, horrified stare behind.
He stood alone in the silent chamber, chest heaving with sweat pouring down his face, staring at the unconscious form of the woman who had just moments ago been untouchable.
"What… what did I just do?" he whispered. Pheo didn't move at first. His pulse thundered in his ears, body still trembling as if the fire lingered inside his veins. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped closer to Anora's still form.
"Anora?" he whispered. No response.
He knelt beside her, hesitating before reaching out. His fingers brushed her wrist, searching for a pulse. Relief washed over him when he found it, steady if faint. She was breathing, alive, just unconscious.
Pheo sank back onto his heels, exhaling a long, shaky breath. "It's over…"
He stayed there for a moment, staring at her. The golden fire flickered in his mind like an afterimage burned into his vision. The way it had surged out of him, unbidden. The way it wrapped around her, restricting her movements until she collapsed.
That wasn't what it had done before.
Before, the fire had been a savior, healing all that it touched. It had erupted without warning, dragging him back from certain doom and giving him the strength to break Beam's impenetrable skin.
The second time, it had become his way to fight back against Elion. A brilliant flame unrivaled, one so bright, so strong that it had pushed him to his limits until he turned to ash.
This time, it was controlled. It wasn't wild or desperate, not the raw frenzy it was back then. It only meant to restrain, its strength measured in order to ensure that Anora only ended up unconscious.
Pheo clenched his fists, unsettled by the thought. Had it been his intention, deep down, that shaped the fire? Or was it the fire's own will, taking over in order to do what he failed at?
If it could heal, destroy and now restrain… What else was it capable of? He knew that his gift wasn't like the others, it had already shown power far surpassing a regular gift. But a thought had crossed his mind.
Gifts were supposed to have limits, categories, some shape of predictability, a limiter that kept it from being too weak or too powerful. Fire that burned, sight that pierced, even Anora's gift which sounded strong had rules, restrictions that made it balanced.
But his? So far his gift seemed shapeless. A flame that saved, a flame that bound, a flame that overshone all others. It was nothing short of an irregularity. Something that didn't belong to the natural order of gifts.
He tried to map the possibilities in his head. Maybe it revealed the truth like Anora's gift, stripping away illusions.
Then why did it manifest in violence?
Okay, maybe not. Maybe it judged, deciding what was allowed to exist and what wasn't.
Then why did it bound Anora?
Fine. Maybe it was none of those. Maybe, it was just survival given form. The embodiment of life clinging to itself.
The uncertainty twisted in him, his thoughts arguing inside his head. Although he was able to see the flame once more, it only led him to more questions. As he kept on pondering, his eyes fell to Anora.
Had he chosen right in trusting Anora? She was dangerous, maybe a bit too dangerous. If she learned too much, she might turn on him. If she deemed his gift too unpredictable, as a threat that would harm their camp, she might eliminate him.
And yet… she was also sharp enough to help him. Strong enough to endure what others couldn't. And her ability to see through lies meant he couldn't keep this secret buried forever.
He tilted his head back, staring at the crimson ceiling, his thoughts spinning in endless circles. No answers. Just questions that branched out endlessly, choking him with doubt.
What the hell is inside me?
He thought too long.
A soft groan snapped him out of his spiral. Anora stirred, her fingers twitching before she shifted slightly on the ground. Pushing herself up slowly, her gaze eventually found Pheo. "What… happened just now?"
Pheo told her every detail. How the flame had burst forth again, how it wrapped around her, and how it hadn't done anything except for making her collapse unconscious. He explained his thoughts too, the patterns he noticed and contradictions of what it could do.
By the time he had finished, Anora was already sitting upright, her hand pressed against her chin. "So it shifts. Healing, destroying, restraining… and each time, it's exactly what you needed in that situation. No more, no less."
Her eyes narrowed, as if she was piecing together a puzzle only she could see. "That makes no sense," Pheo muttered, frustration thick in his voice. "A gift is supposed to have rules, boundaries. This doesn't. It just… changes."
"Exactly," Anora replied. Her voice was calm and steady, but her words struck with weight. "If that's the case, then your power isn't defined by just one path. It bends to your will, or perhaps to your need. Theoretically, that makes it limitless in strength."
"Limitless?" Pheo echoed, his pulse quickening. "No… that's not possible, there has to be something we're missing." Anora tilted her head. "Why not? It's not like it follows the standard of gifts."
"You've had this gift way before others obtained theirs, already breaking what we know about gifts." She explained. "And every time you've been at the brink of death, the flame does whatever it takes to keep you alive. It grants you the weapon you need to climb out of the grave."
"It's a gift that acts on the edge of desperation." She summarized. Pheo clenched his fists. "So what you're saying is that I have to keep almost dying just to use it? That's not strength. That's… that's unfair."
Anora's lips curved faintly, though her eyes remained serious. "With a gift that powerful, it has to have some form of weakness. And it's not like it's without reason, your gift is colored gold."
"Although it's vague, the color of someone's gift correlates with what it does. But the color gold… I've only managed to see you use it, and so far it seems to go far beyond ordinary limits."
He blinked, her words sinking deep, unsettling. "So you're saying that my gift being golden means something?" He began to think. "I'm saying your flame isn't just some accident of power," she interrupted, her tone harder now. "It may have a logical explanation."
"And I may have a lead to know more about its meaning." She told him, making Pheo's head turn to her. "A lead?" Her silver eyes glinted, a flicker of memory flashing in them. "I can see the color of a person's gift, remember? And I've seen someone with that same flame before."
His breath caught. "You have?" She nodded slowly. "Only once. And recently. It wasn't as strong as yours. At least, not yet. But the color's unmistakable. The same golden blaze, waiting to consume the world around it."
His chest tightened, hope and fear tangling together. "Who was it? Where did you last see them?" After reading almost every book in The Free City and finding nothing, he finally found a lead about the golden flame he had.
Anora's gaze lingered on him, as though weighing whether the truth was a gift or a burden. "They've yet to awaken it. Until they do, even I can't be certain what form it will take. Which is why I hesitate."
"That's not enough," Pheo pressed, stepping closer despite himself. "If you know something, anything about it, I need to know. Who was it?" Her lips parted, then closed again.
She studied him for a long moment, eyes flashing silver as if weighing the truth of his desperation itself. Finally, she exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly, though her tone remained grave.
"Elysia. The only royalty in the high-ranking Concordists." The name struck like a hammer. "I don't recommend pursuing it. But if you find yourself desperate to know, then you have to wait until she awakens."
Pheo's mouth went dry. Elysia? The gulf between him and her felt insurmountable, and yet Anora had just tied them together by a thread of golden fire. "How are we so sure that she's not like me, who's able to use their gift already?"
"I'm not allowed to talk about why, but I can tell you that if she was able to, then she would've already used it." Her eyes lingered on him, sharp and knowing. "And trust me, The Director wouldn't be so keen on looking for the golden flame if he knew that Elysia had it."
Pheo's thoughts swirled as he took in the new information, but before he could press further, Anora's gaze drifted upward. The tall windows of The Crimson Hall framed the night, the pale moonlight spilling across the stone floor.
She let out a quiet breath, her expression easing. "It's late," she said, almost to herself before turning back to him. "We'll call it here for today." Pheo frowned, the weight of their talk still heavy on his chest. "That's it?"
"For now." She folded her arms, her silver eyes catching the moonlight. "If we want to keep that golden flame inside you hidden, then we need to make sure it never triggers in the first place. That means no more near-death situations for you."
He blinked at her, uncertain. "And how do I avoid that?"
"With strategy and preparation." Her voice was steady, unwavering, the kind that brooked no argument. "If survival is the key that wakes your power, then the answer is simple. Don't let yourself fall that far."
"I'll teach you how to fight smart, how to plan, how to win before the fight even starts. Power without foresight is just recklessness. What you need right now is control." Her words hung in the air like an oath, sharp as steel and just as unyielding.
Pheo stared at her, silently agreeing with her. As a kid, he had limits when it came to raw strength, his body being able to endure only so much. She was right when she said that brute force alone would never be enough for him, he needed something else.
The way Anora spoke of strength, as something sharpened, measured, and intentional made sense to him. It wasn't just hot air either, its effectiveness showed in the way she fought. For someone like him, relying on strategy and preparation wasn't just wise. It was necessary.
And for the first time that night, Pheo felt the faintest spark of reassurance from her. From the way she stood, calm and resolute, as though the path she carved for him was already set in stone the moment he agreed to be her student.
It wasn't just her words that steadied him. It was her confidence, her absolute belief that he could learn. It made him think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone in this as he thought he was.