Breathe With Your Flame

Zonaar woke with his spine aching like he'd slept under a boulder. Every bone felt heavier than it should, like something had been pushing down on him all night. His limbs were sore. His throat dry. The heat behind his chest had quieted but hadn't gone out. It was just sitting there now and waiting.

He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling: pale driftwood boards curving overhead, seaweed cords twisted into patterns along the beams. The scent of salt and roasted fish hung faintly in the air.

He pushed himself upright with a groan, his chest was tight and ribs stiff. Someone had placed him on a woven mat, covered in what looked like soft kelp-fiber blankets. The room had only one door which was slightly open, and through it drifted the distant sound of the sea.

Outside, Mira's laughter echoed across the shore.

He stepped out slowly, barefoot, and found her ankle-deep in water, skipping stones like nothing had happened. On the far side, a smooth boulder held Orravia sitting with her back to him, her eyes watching the horizon like a statue carved from the moon.

Zonaar swallowed. His throat was still raw, and whatever had surged through his body last night, it wasn't done with him. But this was the right time. He stepped forward, dropping to his knees in the sand.

"…Thank you," he said, voice low. "For saving me."

Orravia didn't turn. "I didn't," she said simply.

The wind moved across the waves, silent between them.

Zonaar lowered his head and bowed. His forehead brushed the warm sand. "Then… thank you for not letting me die."

At that, she looked back. Her gaze was calm, but not unkind. "You lived because your flame held on tighter than you did."

He met her eyes. "Teach me."

Mira looked up from the water, surprised.

"I don't want to burn out again," he said. "I want to control it. Whatever's inside me… it won't go away. So I need to get strong enough to hold it."

Orravia rose from her seat. The goddess didn't move like mortals. Her feet barely disturbed the sand. She walked past him, pausing once to tap his sternum with a translucent finger.

"You have no idea what's inside you," she murmured. "But fine. Let's begin."

She pointed to the same boulder she'd sat on. "Sit. Cross your legs and close your eyes."

Zonaar obeyed.

"Focus behind your ribs. That's where it's growing."

He did. And slowly, he began to feel it, not a flame exactly, but a weight. A curl of heat. A second heartbeat, pulsing with its own rhythm.

"Now breathe," she said. "Not with your lungs. With your flame."

Zonaar's brow furrowed as he inhaled slowly but couldn't feel anyhing.

He tried again. Focused on that heat behind his ribs, like she said. Like breathing through the flame instead of his chest.

Still nothing.

Just sore lungs and a headache creeping in.

"I don't get it," he muttered.

"You wouldn't," Orravia said, tone flat. "You've never trained your body. You lit the flame, but the frame holding it is cracked."

Zonaar opened his eyes. "So what do I do?"

"You rebuild it."

He stared at her.

She gestured toward the sea. "The Agolit crystals were too direct. Too much energy, too fast. You need pressure, not fuel. The sea has plenty of that."

Zonaar followed her gaze.

"You want me to just… go sit in the water?"

"No. I want you to stay in the water. Waist-deep. Still. Breathe with your flame until it starts answering back. Then maybe we can move forward."

He stood, legs still shaky. "Fine."

Mira looked worried as he stepped past her toward the tide. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No," he said. "But I don't think that matters anymore."

The water was cold. Not freezing, but biting in a way that made his joints tense up. He didn't stop. Step by step, he waded in until the sea reached his waist. Then he dropped into a crouch, arms folded over his knees, water lapping against his chest.

He closed his eyes again and tried to focus on his flame. The water numbed his legs within minutes. His arms trembled from the cold. Salt stung his cracked lips. But Zonaar stayed still, with his jaw clenched and eyes shut.

Breathe with the flame. He tried again. This time, something stirred. A flicker. Small. Barely there, like a coal under ash. Not roaring or warm. But just present.

He focused on that. Let the sea push in and the heat inside, push back.

A pulse answered. His eyes flew open and felt a twitch like a second heartbeat under his ribs. Then it was gone. But, at least it happened.

On the shore, Orravia gave the smallest nod. "That's enough."

Zonaar stumbled out of the water, shivering and his skin pale. Mira tossed him a folded cloth from the deck. "You look like a drowned crab."

He ignored her and looked straight at the goddess. "I felt it. For a second."

"Good. Don't get proud. That was nothing."

He didn't argue.

"I thought you said I needed to refine my body," he said, voice hoarse. "How long will that take?"

"As long as it takes," she said. "You're not just holding energy anymore. You're holding something else too. That soul which flickers inside you, it's trying to feed on the same energy your flame needs. If your body doesn't grow fast enough…"

He understood. He wouldn't just burn out, he'd lose.

"Tomorrow," Orravia continued, "you'll try again. A bit deeper. If you can last longer, we'll try drawing energy straight from the sea. If not, we go back to this and try the agolits agian."

Zonaar nodded.

Then paused. "The soul flicker… Alepho?"

Orravia's jaw tightened slightly. "It's not time for that talk."

Zonaar didn't press. He looked at his hands. They were still shaking. But not from weakness. This time, it felt like the beginning of something else.

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧

The next morning, the water felt colder.

Zonaar stood waist-deep again, but farther from shore now, where the current tugged a little harder and the sand below shifted beneath his feet.

Orravia stood with arms folded, the wind teasing through her translucent hair. "Same as yesterday. But try holding it longer. Inhale. Not with lungs but with your flame."

He nodded once.The heat behind his ribs started to move, slow and steady. This time, he drew energy from the water itself. It wasn't like the Agolit crystals. The energy here was wild. Slippery. It pushed against him, resisting entry like it didn't trust his body.

He tried to pull anyway but it lashed back.

A spike of pain ripped through his gut, folding him in half. His body buckled and plunged forward, he barely caught himself before his head hit the water.

Mira was already moving from the deck. "Zonaar!"

But Orravia raised one hand, stopping her. He gasped, gripping his sides, blinking spots from his vision.

"…Not strong enough yet," he muttered, dragging himself upright.

The goddess didn't speak right away. Then she reached into her sleeve and pulled out something small, round and glinting faint blue under her palm.

It was a beast core.

Faint. Low-tier. Probably from something like a sea-foamer — the kind of beast that lives near shallow coral beds and feeds on algae. Barely smarter than a clam. But it gave off real energy.

Zonaar stared at it.

"This is different," Orravia said. "Crystals feed your flame. This? It challenges it."

She stepped forward and placed it in his palm.

"This isn't even the open sea. Just the breath of it. If you can't handle this, you're not ready to face what's waiting beyond."

Zonaar held the core with both hands. It was warm. But not friendly.

"I'm ready."

"You're not," she said flatly. "But you'll try anyway."

He sat down cross-legged at the edge of the water with the beast core glowing between his fingers.

Behind him, Mira whispered, "What happens if he loses control again?"

Orravia didn't answer right away.

Then, quietly: "Then next time, he won't wake up so easily."

✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧✧𓂃⋆༶⋆𓂃✧