Chapter 21: The Path to Mastery

The world felt hollow without Elias' presence.

Shira knelt in the ruins of the temple, her breath shallow, her body aching. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on her, but it was nothing compared to the emptiness in her chest. Elias was gone. Taken. Swallowed by the abyss that was Darkwind.

A shudder ran through her. The fire within had nearly consumed her, had turned her into something beyond human—beyond even what she understood. She had felt her power grow, but it had also threatened to devour her, as it had when she lost herself in the fight against Darin. If she didn't learn to control it, then what was she?

The answer came in a voice, deep and ancient, vibrating in the very stones of the temple.

You are lost, but you need not be.

Shira jerked to her feet, sword in hand, golden fire licking at her fingertips. The voice resonated through the chamber, shaking the crumbling pillars. Then, from the shattered altar, a glow emerged—a sphere of golden light, pulsating with raw energy. It grew, warping the air around it, until the form of a great dragon unfurled before her.

Massive wings, each feather shimmering with hues of molten gold and crimson, spread wide. Scales like tempered steel lined its colossal frame, and its piercing eyes—ancient and knowing—bore into her soul.

She knew this presence. It had whispered in her blood from the moment she first ignited her flames. The Dragonlord.

The being regarded her for a long moment before speaking. You wield our fire, but you do not command it. You are a tempest unchained, a blade without a master's grip. You must change this.

Shira swallowed hard. "I… I don't know how."

Then you shall learn.

The dragon's voice rumbled through the air, and the temple around them seemed to shift, the shadows peeling away, revealing a vision of endless skies and soaring mountains—an illusion, or perhaps something more. She was no longer standing in ruins but in a realm of raw, unbridled energy.

To control the fire, you must first understand it. Sit, and listen.

Shira hesitated before kneeling. The dragon lowered its great head to her level, exhaling a breath of warmth that wrapped around her like a living force.

Your power is not only fire. It is the essence of creation and destruction, bound within your soul. It is neither good nor evil. It is what you make it.

She clenched her fists. "Then why does it feel like it's trying to consume me?"

Because you resist it. Fire does not yield to fear. It demands respect, control, and purpose. You must not fight it. You must guide it.

Shira closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the dragon's presence envelop her. Her power burned beneath her skin, a raging current, wild and desperate to be free. She inhaled deeply, seeking the center of that inferno.

And then the dragon spoke again, but this time not in words. In understanding.

A memory, not hers, but ancient.

A warrior standing upon a battlefield, golden wings spread wide, flames cascading from his hands like rivers of light. He was in complete harmony with his fire, wielding it with effortless grace. He did not fight the flames; he danced with them. Each movement, precise. Each breath, a command.

Shira's heart pounded. That's what I need to become.

Yes, the dragon rumbled. But to get there, you must begin with the first step.

The vision faded, leaving only the dragon's presence and the flickering glow of firelight surrounding them.

Breathe in.

Shira obeyed, drawing a deep breath, feeling the warmth coil in her chest.

Now breathe out. Do not force it. Do not let it control you. Guide it.

She exhaled slowly, her fire flickering, not raging, but pulsing in rhythm with her breath.

Again.

She repeated the motion, the heat becoming less wild, less erratic. It no longer surged in desperate bursts. It flowed.

The dragon's gaze softened. Good. Now, feel it move. Let it circulate, let it become part of you—not a weapon, but an extension of your will.

Shira focused, the fire shifting within her, no longer clawing at her control, but listening. Obeying.

For the first time since she had awakened her power, it didn't feel like a curse.

The dragon's great wings spread once more, its form beginning to fade back into golden light. You have taken your first step. But mastery will not come in a day, nor in a year. You must cultivate your strength, your mind, your soul.

Shira opened her eyes, steady for the first time in what felt like forever. "Then I'll do whatever it takes."

The dragon's voice echoed as it vanished into the ether. Then you may yet reclaim what you have lost... and take back what was stolen.

Shira rose to her feet, fire glowing steadily at her fingertips. She turned to the horizon, determination burning in her chest.

She would train. She would grow.

And she would bring Elias home.