Chapter 3– Flame and Flow
For a moment, James forgot how to breathe.
Layra's eyes didn't just look at him — they looked through him. Her presence wasn't loud like Cael's, or wild like the others swirling with lightning and leaves. Hers was the calm before a tidal wave, the eerie stillness of a deep ocean trench. And she was smiling like she already knew something about him that he didn't.
James blinked and looked away first.
Bad move.
"You flinched," she said.
"Yeah? Maybe I just didn't want to get frostbite from your gaze."
Her smirk widened. "So Fire has fangs."
Their banter was cut short when Instructor Aralis raised a hand. The floating drones around the room began glowing, and the students were slowly transported onto individual paired platforms, each hovering like suspended islands across the chamber.
James and Layra were lifted together to one of the platforms — circular, high in the dome, with only glowing energy strands connecting them to the larger hall. Below them, the aura vortex shimmered — red, blue, yellow, green, black — swirling like a heartbeat of reality itself.
"This is the Synchronization Trial," Aralis's voice echoed from above. "You will stand face to face with your opposite. Not just in aura — but in emotion. And you will match. Those who fail to stabilize... will fall."
The edge of their platform flickered. And James suddenly realized she wasn't bluffing. If they failed, the platform would collapse.
"You ready to take a dive?" he asked, squaring his stance.
"Try not to explode. I just got this suit," Layra replied, calmly tying her snowy white hair into a bun.
Then their bracelets lit up — matching devices latched onto their wrists, glowing with their aura color. Red for James. Blue for Layra. Two emotions that shouldn't mix.
The timer began: 30 seconds.
Layra raised her hands first, palms out, like a dance.
James felt heat rising in his chest. He could barely contain it. Ever since the storm, his fire had felt... sharper. Like it wanted to lash out. Not at her. At everything.
"You're mad about something," Layra said.
"Nope," James said through gritted teeth, already sweating.
"You're trying to control your fire like it's a beast."
He gave her a sharp glance. "Isn't it?"
"No," she said. "It's you. The question is—do you hate yourself that much?"
James's hands lit up, flames cracking along his skin.
The timer hit 20.
"Don't push me," he warned.
"I'm not. I'm mirroring you."
Then Layra moved — slow and fluid, like water winding through cracks. She touched her wrist and released her aura.
A cool wave of light wrapped around her, shimmering like moonlight on a still lake. She stepped closer, and the air around them changed. Calmer. Heavier. Quieter.
James tried to resist. He really did. But the more she stepped toward him, the more his fire flared.
"Let it go," she whispered.
"I can't. It'll burn you."
"Then let me drown in it."
The timer hit 10.
James's fire erupted—but Layra moved first. She stepped right into the flames and grabbed his hand. Her aura surged outward, blue wrapping red like ice locking onto lava.
And for a second—just a breath—the platform shimmered with white.
Then everything went still.
Silence.
A pulse.
Their platform stabilized. Lights turned green.
Instructor Aralis exhaled, watching from above with folded arms.
"Interesting pair..."
SCENE: AFTER THE TEST
Later that night, the two of them walked side by side through the floating gardens that twisted around Hero Core. The vines glowed faintly, humming with green aura as stars flickered overhead.
"Why did you do that?" James finally asked.
"Do what?" Layra said without looking at him.
"Walk into my flames."
"I didn't walk into your flames," she replied, tilting her head. "I walked into you. The flames were just what you thought you were."
James didn't respond. His knuckles were still burnt — the fire hadn't hurt her, but it had hurt him.
"Fire that fights itself always leaves scars," she added, more softly this time. "You need to stop being afraid of what's inside."
"I'm not afraid."
"You are. You're terrified."
James stopped walking.
For the first time in years, he wanted to yell. But not at her. At himself. At whatever part of him cracked open during the storm and whispered something dark and ancient.
"Back there," he said, voice low. "I saw something. A... version of me. Made of fire. It spoke."
Layra slowly turned to face him.
"And what did it say?"
"That I already was it. That I carry guilt."
She didn't look surprised.
"That wasn't a hallucination," she said. "That was your first beast echo. All high-aura users have one. Especially red aura wielders. The beast of guilt is the most dangerous."
James swallowed hard. "Why?"
"Because it never attacks someone else first," she said, eyes suddenly sad. "It starts with you."
SCENE: THE FIRST SUMMONING
The next morning, all new students gathered at the Central Ring — a colossal arena carved into the floating mountain, glowing with rotating runes.
Instructor Aralis stood in the center, alongside other instructors — including a green-aura user with dreadlocks and sunglasses, a yellow-aura speedster in a golden scarf, and someone entirely cloaked in black smoke.
"Today," Aralis said, "you will be introduced to the Summoning Gate. Each of you will step forward and open the gate that leads to your core echo. Your future beast."
James's spine went cold.
"You will either face it... or be consumed."
One by one, students walked into the summoning circle. Some screamed. Some bonded instantly with glowing creatures. One poor kid summoned a six-legged cat with anxiety issues.
James was the second-to-last.
He stepped into the circle, heart thudding, sweat clinging to his palms.
The moment his foot touched the rune—
BOOM.
The circle exploded upward in red fire. Students fell back. Aralis raised a hand to shield her face.
And from the flames, it emerged.
The beast.
Ten feet tall. Humanoid, but wrapped in fire, with horns like molten glass. Its chest opened to reveal a hollow echo — and inside, James's own eyes stared back at him.
It wasn't a monster.
It was him.
But wrong.
Twisted. Raw. Full of everything he ever hid.
And then it roared—
TO BE CONTINUED...