Tracks and twins

The final chime of Ability Development shuddered through Adam’s bones. The resonant hum of the Hall of Resonance died, leaving a ringing silence. Sweat cooled on his temples, his hands raw from wrestling light into stubborn steel. The practice sword across his knees felt heavy, its hard-won glow extinguished. Kael had vanished as soundlessly as smoke.
"Feel like you arm-wrestled a granite cliff?" Lira fell into step beside him, rolling her shoulders.
"More like negotiating with tectonic plates," Adam admitted, flexing stiff fingers. Storm shifted on his shoulder, a warm anchor and a living reminder of Kael’s cold warning: Control it, or you’ll burn him out.
Lira grinned as they pushed into the mist-chilled corridor. "Break time! Ready to meet the twins? Raven and Wren."
Beneath the gnarled oak in the South Courtyard, the twins huddled over honeyed oatcakes. Identical raven-black hair framed faces distinguished by their eyes: Raven's piercing grey held river-stone stillness, tiny braids at his temples. Wren's hazel eyes danced with mischief, a leather cord circling his wrist.
"Adam," Lira announced. "Grey eyes: Raven. Hazel: Wren."
Raven offered a curt nod. "Survived Blythe’s gauntlet on day one? Luck favors the stubborn."
Wren beamed. "The drake!" He offered a crumb. Storm snatched it delicately, no spark this time.
"Infusing metal feels like whispering to a glacier," Adam said.
"Just wait for elemental manipulation," Wren groaned.
Lira stretched. "Abilities Practical next. That covered field out back." She pointed southwest. "Combat Manifestation," Her fingers blurred into wickedly sharp claws before snapping back. ", my happy place. Support & Augmentation," She nodded at the twins.
Wren flexed his hands. "Buffs. Strength, speed, reflexes." He tapped his own thigh. Instantly, he blurred upwards, snatching a leaf from the oak’s lowest branch before landing lightly. "Self-testing!"
Raven’s gaze remained level. "Healing. Requires contact." His grey eyes fixed on Adam. "Lira says Fire is your song. Clean ignition yet?"
"Some warmth. A spark or two. Unpredictable," Adam admitted.
"Emotion is your flint and tinder," Raven stated. "Learn control or become a hazard."
The break bell shattered the calm. Adam followed them through massive rear gates and froze.
The Covered Training Grounds were staggering, a vast, engineered landscape sheltered under weatherproofed canvas stretched taut over soaring steel arches. Open sides admitted mist-laden breeze and grey light, carrying scents of ozone, wet earth, molten stone, and crushed frost. The hard-packed earth was divided into three sprawling sectors:
1. Combat Manifestation: Reinforced dummies stood sentinel. Intricate obstacle courses challenged agility. Lira was a whirlwind of focused violence, seamlessly flowing between forms. One moment her fist struck a dummy; the next, knuckles elongated, skin rippled with dark scales, and wickedly curved claws tore deep gouges. Her green eyes blazed with absolute concentration, utterly absorbed.2. Support & Augmentation: Thick mats covered sections. Raven knelt beside a student, his hands glowing soft silver as he hovered them over a practice wound on a dummy’s arm, the simulated flesh visibly knitting. Nearby, Wren crouched low, touched his own ankles, and exploded upwards. He cleared a twenty-foot platform, landed with grace, and immediately gauged the next, higher structure. "Higher!" he yelled, tapping his bicep for another burst.3. Elemental Manipulation: A breathtaking display of raw manipulation. To Adam’s left, a cryomancer exhaled frost, flash-freezing a trough solid, then shattered it into glittering shards. Beyond, a geomancer churned molten lava in a stone crucible, shaping glowing sculptures. Another student pulled swirling mist from the air, weaving dense fog banks. Near the far wall, a metallokinetic strained, causing iron filings to rise like a trembling cloud. The air crackled.
Adam’s gaze snagged on a lone figure at the periphery. Kael. Shirtless, his lean torso gleamed. He moved through a brutal kata, strikes like axe blows against a hanging bag, kicks snapping straps. Every movement radiated controlled violence. The pale scar stood out starkly.
A sharp CRACK echoed as a fireball streaked from a brazier zone, impacting a distant wooden target. Kael didn’t flinch. His dark eyes flicked towards the elemental sector, assessing, for a heartbeat. Then, focus snapped back to his own rhythm. He didn’t train with them. He trained at them. Watching.
"Adam Thorne?" A firm voice cut through the thrum. A woman with coppery skin and dark hair bound tightly back stood near the fire quadrant. "Instructor Vance. Fire affinity. Report to Brazier Seven."
Adam moved towards the designated area, passing students coaxing flames or maintaining heat under metal ingots. Brazier Seven was larger, flanked by racks of wooden staves, positioned facing a line of weathered training dummies at twenty, forty, sixty feet.
Vance handed him nothing. "Ignition is innate. Flint is for those without the spark. You have the spark." Her gaze was direct. "Prove it. Light the brazier. Sustain a flame hot enough to scorch the iron. Then," She nodded towards the dummies. "Put fire on target. Start close. Control before distance. Burn the dummy, not the field."
Adam faced the cold, dark iron bowl. He pushed aside everything. For Storm. Control. Steady pressure. He reached inward, found the core warmth, the restless ember. A focused draw. A thin thread of heat spiraled down his arm, gathering in his palm over the kindling. He focused on encouraging ignition.
A soft hiss-crackle. A tiny flame flickered, caught, and grew into a healthy, contained fire. Vance gave a curt nod. "Sustain. Increase heat."
Adam deepened his focus. The yellow flames deepened towards orange, then white-hot at the core. Heat radiated intensely, the iron glowing faintly red. Sweat beaded on his brow. Control the burn.
"Good. Now. The closest dummy. Twenty feet. Channel the heat. Shape it. Throw it."
Adam raised his hand. He pulled at the fire in the brazier through the connection he’d forged. Heat roared in his veins. He visualized a compact sphere. He pushed.
A fist-sized orb of searing white flame roared from his palm. It streaked across the gap and slammed into the dummy’s chest with a WHUMPH. Flames engulfed the top half instantly, charring the wood black.
Too bright. The fire in the brazier surged violently in response to his surge of triumph. Storm let out a soft, alarmed chirp. Adam clenched his jaw, wrestled his focus back, dampening the brazier’s flame. Control. Steady.
He glanced across the vast field. Lira was a blur of feral motion, tearing into another dummy. Wren ricocheted between platforms. And Kael, Kael had paused mid-strike. His dark eyes were locked directly on Adam, on the smoking ruin of the first dummy. For three suspended heartbeats, that intense gaze held. Then, he turned smoothly, resuming his kata, the rhythm of his blows echoing.
Adam looked back at the next dummy. Forty feet. He drew a steadying breath, feeling the heat in his palms, Storm’s grounding weight. The real test, under the silent observer's gaze, had truly ignited.