Flames of the Past

The moment Calista stepped away from Max, she could already hear Jason scoffing. “That was nothing,” he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Calista didn’t react immediately. She simply turned, slowly, as if she hadn’t even noticed him before. Jason stood there with his arms crossed, his amber-gold eyes glinting with amusement.

“She just dodged a bunch,” he said, shaking his head. “That wasn’t a fight. That was stalling.”

A few students murmured in agreement. Max didn’t say anything. But Calista? She smiled. A small, calm, knowing smile. And then she tilted her head.

“I see,” she said smoothly. “Would you like to test that theory?”

The gym fell silent. Jason blinked. Then, grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Jason cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. “I won’t go easy on you, princess.”

She smiled pleasantly. “Neither will I.”

Coach Ramirez sighed but didn’t stop it. “Alright,” he said. “Same rules as before no shifting, no supernatural speed or strength. Just technique.”

Calista nodded. Jason smirked.

“This’ll be quick,” he muttered.

Coach Ramirez raised his hand. “Go!”

Jason came in hard, leading with his right. Calista’s front foot slid back, and the punch cut through empty air. He recalibrated instantly, snapping a left toward her. She was already turning unhurried her body slipping just enough that his arm swept past her shoulder blade without contact. He stopped. She stopped. He was already breathing harder than she was. Her hands remained at her sides.

Jason growled. “Fight back!”

Calista exhaled lightly, tilting her head. “Oh, but this is so much more fun.”

Jason snarled and drove forward in a low charge. Calista’s back foot glided out, and her entire body rotated around his center of gravity. The kick came almost lazily the edge of her heel redirecting his forearm just enough that his momentum carried him past her. He had to catch himself on his front foot to avoid falling. He froze for a moment with his back to her. She hadn’t moved from the point where she pivoted. When he turned, she was inspecting her nails.

The murmurs started.

“Damn, she’s fast.”

“She’s barely trying.”

“Is Jason even landing a hit?”

Jason heard every word. His pride his ego took another hit. And then Calista smirked at him.

“You’re slow,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Something shifted in Jason’s face. His next step came in sharper and heavier than before, and this time there was no technique just force, just weight. Calista’s shoulder snapped back on impact. She caught herself on her rear foot, barely stabilizing. For a moment she held still, her hair falling across her face. Around them, the gym went silent.

“You idiot!” Keira hissed. “You used your strength!”

Coach Ramirez’s expression darkened. “Blackwood—”

Calista’s smile never wavered. She lifted a hand and brushed her hair from her face. Then she exhaled once through her nose, her stance subtly shifting—weight settling into her back foot.

She rolled her shoulder once, testing the impact. Then she moved.

Her first step was almost unhurried. Her second sharpened. By the third, Jason had already overcommitted too close, and off balance. Her elbow snapped into his stomach before he even registered the strike. The leg sweep followed immediately clean, quiet, precise.

Jason hit the mat hard. The breath left him in short, broken gasps.

Jason blinked up at the ceiling, completely stunned. But the worst part? The murmurs. The wide-eyed looks. Jason Blackwood just lost. To a girl who had been invisible four days ago.

Josh muttered first, “That was—”

“Brutal,” Keira finished.

Tyler grinned. “I loved it.”

Above him, Calista’s face appeared, tilted slightly to one side, her hair still settling around her shoulders. “You know,” she said, her voice light and amused, “if you’re going to cheat, you should at least win.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. “You—”

She crouched down slightly, her sharp gaze boring into his. “Try to be better next time, hmm?” Then she straightened, graceful, unbothered.

Jason clenched his fists, grinding his teeth in frustration. And then? Calista offered him her hand. Not mocking. Not arrogant. Calm. Dignified. And that? That was the part Jason hated the most. He didn’t take her hand.

Calista tilted her head slightly, her gaze still locked on Jason. “You keep fighting like that,” she murmured, “and you’ll never win.”

Jason’s jaw clenched, his fists curling. “Excuse me?”

She stepped back, serene as ever. “You rely too much on anger,” she said, almost sympathetically. “It makes you predictable.”

A beat. Then, a small, knowing smile. “And easy to control.”

Coach Ramirez let out a long sigh. “Blackwood, you’re done for today. Go cool off.”

Jason clenched his fists but knew better than to argue. He had lost. And worse? She had made it look easy. Jason stormed off, muttering under his breath.

Calista turned to Coach Ramirez. “I hope that demonstration was helpful.” The coach just shook his head, half-exasperated, half-impressed.

Keira smirked. “That was brutal.”

Josh let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jason get put down like that.”

Tyler chuckled. “I’m just happy someone finally shut him up.”

Max? Max watched her carefully. She had been playing with Jason. And even when Jason broke the rules, she still won. She was too good. Too controlled. Too calculated. And that meant only one thing. Brianna wasn’t just some random girl. She was something else.

Jason was fuming. No fuming wasn’t a strong enough word. He was seething. His entire body burned with frustration, his pride completely shattered as he slammed his locker shut, his knuckles nearly denting the metal. No one had ever humiliated him like that.

No one had ever toyed with him like that. And the worst part? It wasn’t just that he lost. It was that she had made him lose control. Made him break the rules. And then punished him for it. Like he was a damn pup.

Tyler leaned against the lockers, still grinning. “That was beautiful,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, really. Jason, I gotta hand it to you. You made that way worse on yourself.”

Jason shot him a death glare. “Shut up, Tyler.”

Keira smirked. “You did kind of walk right into that one.”

Jason growled under his breath, rubbing his face. “She was mocking me.”

Josh crossed his arms. “She baited you. And you fell for it.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason muttered, “she’s not normal.”

That got everyone’s attention. Because Jason never admitted when someone was better than him.

Emma frowned. “You think she was holding back?”

Jason clenched his jaw. “Do you really have to ask?”

Max hadn’t said a word since the fight. He had just watched. Analyzed. Processed. Because Jason was right. Brianna wasn’t normal. She had played Jason like a puppet on strings, letting him move exactly how she wanted, knowing he would break before she did.

And that? That was a problem. Because it meant she was trained. And not just in casual self-defense. She moved like a warrior. Like someone who had been taught discipline, patience, and restraint. And she was hiding it. Which meant she was hiding something else, too.

Jason grabbed his bag, still grumbling. “She’s got an attitude,” he muttered.

Tyler snorted. “I like her.”

Josh frowned. “She kicked has ass. Of course, you like her.”

Jason ignored them. Then, he turned to Max.

“What do you think?” he asked, his tone still laced with frustration.

Max finally looked up. His red eyes were calm. Calculated. Focused.

“I think,” Max said smoothly, “that she just made a mistake.”

Keira frowned. “How do you figure?”

Max exhaled slowly, grabbing his bag. “She wasn’t supposed to stand out.”

And now? Now, every single one of them knew she wasn’t normal. And that meant? They were done playing games.

Max had expected today to be different. After everything that had happened over the week the song, the vanishing acts, the way Brianna had looked at Jason like he was beneath her, he had expected her to change tactics.

To hide better. To be more careful. To avoid them completely. Instead? She acted like nothing had happened. Like she wasn’t being hunted. Like they weren’t tracking her every move. It pissed him off.

Brianna didn’t disappear today. She walked out of school like she had nowhere to be. Max and his friends followed at a distance. She didn’t rush. She didn’t glance over her shoulder. She didn’t act like she knew she was being followed. And then she went to the New York City Fire Museum.

Jason groaned. “Okay, seriously? First, the Ice Cream Museum, now this?”

Keira ignored him, watching Brianna carefully. “She’s not picking random places.”

Emma tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Keira narrowed her eyes. “Think about it. First, the Statue of Liberty. Now a fire museum.”

“She’s interested in history,” Josh noted.

Keira nodded. “But not just any history. Something specific.”

Max’s jaw clenched. “Then let’s see what.”

The moment they stepped inside, Max knew this wasn’t an act. Because Brianna loved it. She lit up in a way he had never seen before. Her eyes normally so calm, unreadable, perfectly controlled were bright with curiosity. She moved slowly through the exhibits, studying everything with genuine fascination.

Old firefighting gear. Antique helmets. Photographs of firefighters from different eras. She read every plaque. She stopped at every display. And the way she looked at it wasn’t just interest. It was admiration.

Jason leaned in, whispering, “Is it just me, or does she look like she’s actually impressed?”

“She does,” Emma admitted. “Which is… interesting.”

Tyler smirked. “What, did they not have firefighters where she’s from?”

Keira exhaled sharply. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Brianna stopped at an exhibit showcasing a restored 19th-century fire engine. She tilted her head, slowly walking around it, tracing the edges with her fingertips. Avalis, her ever-present ‘dog’, sat beside her, watching her with something close to understanding.

Max and his friends stayed back, watching. For a long moment, she just stood there. Then she whispered something. Too soft for even Max’s werewolf hearing to catch. She was talking to herself. Or maybe… To Avalis.

Josh crossed his arms. “Okay, I don’t get it. What’s so fascinating about this?”

Keira’s eyes were sharp. “It’s not just the exhibit. It’s what it represents.”

Max nodded slightly. “Firefighters. People who risk their lives for others.”

Emma’s expression softened. “She respects them.”

Jason groaned. “Alright, so she’s got a thing for firefighters. What does that tell us?”

Max exhaled. “It tells us that she values sacrifice.”

That she wasn’t just curious about the past. She honored it. And that? That was important. Because it meant she wasn’t just wandering. She was looking for something.

But Calista had no reason to be here. And yet she came anyway. There was something about this place. Something about the stories etched into history, the people who ran toward danger rather than away from it. She admired that.

Because she understood sacrifice. Because she understood what it meant to carry a duty. And the people in these halls? They had chosen their duty, too. Calista walked slowly, Avalis padding silently beside her. She traced her fingers along the polished plaques, reading names, stories, moments of bravery frozen in time.

These people had not fought for power. They had not fought for glory. They had fought to protect. And that? That was something she understood deeply. Avalis’s tails slowed their idle movement. She looked up at the plaque Calista was reading, then back at Calista.

Calista exhaled, glancing down at her companion. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t respect it.”

Avalis flicked her tails, then pressed her nose briefly against Calista’s hand. Calista didn’t reply. Because Avalis was right. She understood choosing a duty. She understood choosing to carry something heavier than yourself.

She understood what it meant to protect something greater than your own existence. Because in the end, that was what it meant to be Cytharan royalty. Not a title. Not a crown. Not a right. A responsibility.

She was aware of them. Of Max. Of his friends. Of the way they were watching her. Following. Tracking. But she did not react. Because they did not matter. Not here. Not now. So she let them watch.

Let them wonder. Let them chase something they would never catch. Because while they were busy hunting a mystery. Calista was here for something else entirely. Not secrets. Not strategy. Just understanding. And the quiet, unspoken truth written on these walls? She already did.