Fractures in the Flame

Solara stormed down the academy halls, her fists clenched at her sides. Every step felt heavier, as if the weight of the officials' words had latched onto her shoulders.

"Unstable."

Her flames had never felt this strange before. It wasn't just power—it was something pulling at her, something waking up.

She needed air.

Turning down an empty corridor, she shoved open one of the academy's side doors and stepped outside. A crisp breeze rushed past, ruffling her hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising beneath her skin.

"Be careful, Solara."

She exhaled sharply. Damn them. Damn all of them.

They knew something. Something about her powers. About her.

And yet, she was the one being questioned? As if she asked for this? As if she could control what was happening?

The fire inside her flared.

A flicker of heat licked against her fingertips.

Solara froze.

The flames danced, twisting into golden embers—but they weren't stopping.

The heat surged up her arm, wilder than before. The more she tried to suppress it, the stronger it burned.

Her breath caught.

No, no, no, not now—

A burst of fire erupted from her palm, spiraling toward the stone wall beside her. The sheer force of it cracked the surface, the scorch marks deep.

Solara stumbled back, heart pounding.

Her flames had never been that strong.

She stared at her hand, fingers trembling, ember-colored wisps still curling from her skin.

What the hell was happening to her?

"Careful, Vaelstra," a cool voice drawled from behind. "You might set the academy ablaze."

Solara's spine stiffened.

She turned slowly, already annoyed before she even laid eyes on him.

Glacius Sylvaine stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his usual calm, unimpressed look plastered on his face. His ice-blue coat barely moved in the wind, and there was that damn smirk that made her want to throw something.

"I don't recall asking for an audience," she muttered, shaking the lingering heat from her fingertips.

Glacius raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall you having control over who sees you nearly set the school on fire."

Solara scowled. "It wasn't that bad."

Glacius casually gestured to the scorched wall. "Right. A mild decorative touch."

Solara huffed. "What do you want?"

He tilted his head slightly, watching her. "That's the real question, isn't it?"

She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Glacius studied her for a moment, his usual amusement shifting into something… unreadable. "You've been off lately."

Solara's jaw clenched. "You don't know anything about me."

Glacius let out a slow breath, his expression unreadable. "Maybe not. But I know what losing control looks like."

Solara's flames flared in protest, heat spiking around her.

She took a step back, shoving it down. "I'm fine."

Glacius didn't argue. He just watched her. Calm, composed. Cold.

For some reason, that only made her irritation grow.

"Stay out of my business, Sylvaine," she muttered before turning on her heel.

She didn't look back.

But she could still feel his gaze on her as she walked away.

Solara didn't go to Yasmine.

She didn't go anywhere.

Instead, she spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone.

Skipping her next classes wasn't smart, but she didn't care. The whispers of the officials still echoed in her head, tangled with the heat crawling beneath her skin.

"Unstable."

"Be careful."

"You've been off lately."

Her flames had always been a part of her. But now, it felt like they were something separate. Something lurking.

She found herself wandering the academy grounds, keeping to the quieter pathways where no one would bother her. She didn't trust herself around people—not when the embers still coiled beneath her fingertips, even now.

Hours passed.

The sky deepened into dusk, the air cooling. The academy's torches flickered to life, casting long shadows against the walls.

Solara exhaled, steadying herself.

She just needed to breathe.

She closed her eyes—

And the whispers came.

Not from the academy. Not from her thoughts.

From somewhere else.

"…forgotten…"

Solara's breath hitched.

Her surroundings blurred. Shadows stretched too long, twisting against the walls. The air warped, heat and cold clashing at once.

She tried to move—tried to shake it off—

And then the fire surged.

A violent shockwave of heat burst from her chest, flames spiraling outward.

The nearest torch exploded in a flash of embers. The ground beneath her cracked, blackened by the sudden flare.

Solara gasped, stumbling back.

She barely caught herself, heart pounding wildly.

No. No, no, no.

This wasn't normal.

This wasn't her.

She clutched her hands into fists, trying to stop them from trembling. The warmth from her own magic felt foreign, too strong—too much.

A sharp gust of wind cut through the courtyard.

And then—

"I see avoiding me didn't work out for you."

Solara's head snapped up.

Glacius.

Again.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But there was something different in his eyes this time. Not amusement.

Something closer to concern.

Solara scowled, forcing herself to straighten. "Do you follow me, or do you just have a terrible sense of personal space?"

Glacius exhaled, stepping forward. "You just sent half the courtyard into an inferno. Should I have waited until you torched the whole academy?"

"I didn't—" Solara cut herself off, gritting her teeth.

She couldn't even argue.

Because she didn't know what just happened.

Glacius studied her, his gaze sharp. "You need to get this under control."

Solara hated the way her pulse stuttered at that. Because she didn't need him to say it.

She already knew.

Still, she lifted her chin. "I'm fine."

Glacius gave her a look. "Yeah? Because that was definitely the display of someone in perfect control."

She clenched her jaw. "Why do you even care?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then, finally, his voice lowered.

"Because you're not the only one with dangerous power, Vaelstra."

Solara blinked, caught off guard.

Glacius wasn't smiling. His usual arrogance was gone.

And in its place, something cold. Something buried.

Solara opened her mouth—then closed it.

The tension between them crackled, heat and ice clashing in the night air.

But she wasn't ready to talk about it.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

So instead, she stepped back. "Stay out of my way, Sylvaine."

She turned sharply and walked off, not waiting for a reply.

Even if she could still feel his gaze on her as she left.

But this time, she didn't just walk away.

This time, she ran.

---

Solara didn't make it far.

She walked—stumbled—down the academy path, her breath shallow, the flames inside her still licking at the edges of her control.

She wanted to get away. To push everything down.

But the moment she reached the stone archway leading to the outer courtyard, her knees buckled.

She caught herself against the wall, fingers curling into the rough surface, her entire body shaking.

This wasn't normal.

This wasn't her.

Her vision blurred, the world tilting. Heat pulsed under her skin, roaring and suffocating. Her head ached. Her chest felt tight.

She gasped—then choked back a sob.

No. No, not here. Not now.

But the tears burned anyway.

She clenched her jaw, her breath shuddering.

"Control yourself."

"Stay strong."

"You're all you have."

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead against the stone.

She had never let herself break. Not when she was younger. Not when she had no one. Not when she had to pretend she was fine because the moment she wasn't, people looked at her like she was dangerous.

Like she was a problem to be solved.

And now, here she was—burning from the inside out.

"I hate this," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I hate this so much."

The memories hit harder than she expected.

She remembered the orphanage—the way the caretakers whispered about her when they thought she wasn't listening.

"Unstable."

"Cursed."

"That girl shouldn't be here."

The way the other children looked at her when she got too upset. When the air around her sizzled.

She remembered how cold the nights were. How much she longed for warmth that wasn't her own.

She remembered waking up in the middle of the night, flames curled around her fingers, terrified that she would set the whole place ablaze.

How she forced herself to be quiet.

How she forced herself to be strong.

How she told herself she didn't need anyone.

But right now—right here—she wasn't strong.

She was breaking.

And she hated that he was here to see it.

"…Solara."

She stiffened at the voice.

She had forgotten he was still there.

Glacius stood a few steps behind her, his usual composed expression… softened.

Not with pity.

Not with amusement.

With something else.

Something that made her throat tighten even more.

She exhaled a trembling breath, squeezing her hands into fists. "Just go."

Glacius didn't move.

She swallowed hard. "I mean it, Sylvaine. Just—just leave me alone."

But her voice broke at the end.

And suddenly, that was too much.

The dam inside her cracked, the weight of everything collapsing at once.

Her shoulders shook.

And before she could stop herself—before she could shove it all down like she always did—

The first sob escaped.

Then another.

And another.

She crumpled against the wall, breaking apart.

"I don't know what's happening to me," she gasped, her voice raw. "I—I can't control it anymore. It's getting worse. Every time I use my powers, it just—it just grows—and I feel like I'm losing myself, and no one tells me anything—"

Her breath hitched.

"I don't even know who I am," she whispered. "I don't even know my own family. My parents are just ghosts, and all I have are secrets—secrets I don't even understand—"

A hiccup tore from her throat. She buried her face into her hands, shaking.

"I just—" she choked out. "I know I have Yasmine and all but—I don't want to be alone anymore"

Silence.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—Glacius moved.

Not with hesitation. Not with a single word.

Just moved.

And before Solara could even process it—

Arms wrapped around her.

A firm, steady warmth—not scorching like her flames, not chilling like his ice—just solid.

She stiffened, but he didn't let go.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't look at her like she was something fragile or broken.

He just held her.

And for the first time in a long, long time—Solara let herself lean into it.

Even if it was just for a moment.

Even if she would regret it later.

Even if she didn't understand why he of all people was the one still standing here.

For now—just for now—she let herself fall apart.

And Glacius let her.