Crowned in Crimson Cinders

Chapter 12: Training - remastered

I closed my eyes and centered my focus, drawing every ounce of energy in my body toward my right palm. My first attempt fizzled into nothing. The second—just heat, no flame. The third ended in a frustrated sigh. But on the fourth try, a spark ignited. A tiny flame, no bigger than a fingernail, flickered to life in my hand.It was weak. But it was real.I tried to push further, to feed the flame more energy, to make it grow—but it vanished in a breath, like it had never existed."That's amazing though, Aleah," Brock said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Excellent job."I forced a smile for him, but I didn't feel any pride. Not really. If anything, the flicker of fire in my palm reminded me of how much I didn't want this power. Ever since I found that book, I'd been more afraid of my magic than curious. Brock believes that training would help me protect others. I worried it would make it easier to hurt them. It is never my intention to hurt anyone.I wasn't built to be a weapon.But the prophecy... That's what haunts me most. If Prince Julian had turned his powers against his own people five centuries ago, then what stopped me from doing the same? What if this wasn't something I could change? What if it was already written? I'm just some walking human weapon, just waiting to go off. "I think that's enough for today," Brock said gently. "We've been at this for hours. You must be exhausted."He was right. I was drained. And after all that effort, I had barely managed to conjure one tiny flame. I knew mastering magic wasn't supposed to be easy, but something in me kept whispering that I should be progressing faster."Yeah," I murmured, hiding my inner thoughts from Brock.I walked over and sat beside him, feeling the familiar swirl of unease in my chest."Do you know anything more about the people behind your assassination attempt?" I asked, needing to focus on something—anything—other than myself. Maybe if I put my mind on something else, it would make me forget about my powers for a while. He tensed at the mention of it. Just slightly. But I saw it. A small part of me regretted bringing the question up to him. "No," he said, the disappointment in his eyes flickering as quickly as my flame had. "Nothing. No leads. No clues. We have no idea who hired him."I remembered something the assassin said in the throne room. It was something about being hired by a female. "Well... didn't the assassin say a girl hired him?""He did," Brock said, rising to his feet, "but we think she was working for someone else. It's nearly impossible to know who the true mastermind is."I frowned, thinking hard. At that moment, a strong sense of suspicion washed over my mind. Darian shows up, and then only a few days later, my brother is almost assassinated. "The only suspect we have is Darian. But if we lock him up, it could start a war with Trithia, right?""Exactly. And I don't think it was him."I stared at him completely shocked. "What? Why not? He arrives and days later, someone tries to kill you in your sleep. That doesn't feel like coincidence. He probably hired that girl who then hired the assassin."Brock shook his head, as if he had already rolled this possibility over in his head a hundred times. "It just doesn't make sense. If Trithia wanted to attack us, why go through the trouble of forming an alliance and arranging this marriage? Killing me would ruin all of that. Unless..."There was silence for a second until he continued."...unless they just arranged this to get on the inside. It's always easier to tear down the enemy from the inside rather than attacking on the outside."I just nodded, agreeing. "No, it can't be him. He didn't come here just to kill me? Why not kill someone like the king? It doesn't make sense ." He had a point, but it still felt too convenient to ignore. Darian's arrival and the attempt on Brock's life—it all lined up too perfectly."Listen," he said, meeting my gaze. "We're working on it. And if we learn anything, you'll be the first person I tell."I nodded, watching him pace the room. A few moments later, he sighed."I should get going.""Yeah. You've been here all day."Before Brock left, he told me not to practice by myself incase something happened but I knew that temptation would be hard to ward off. When he left, I sat in silence. Then, without thinking too hard, I made a decision. A bad one. Probably the worst I'd made in my entire life. All my life, I've been docile and complacent, always accepting what's given to me. For the first time, I am going to take initiative and get some answers. Darian said his room was the first on the left. Right next to mine. I clicked my door shut quietly behind me and padded over. My fist hovered before the door. My heart hammered. This was reckless, stupid even—but I needed answers.I knocked. Three times. The door opened almost immediately, as if he knew I was coming. However, his expression said otherwise. Darian blinked in surprise. "Princess?" he said, brow furrowed. "Can I help you with something?"I needed to play this safe at first. I can't let him know that I suspect him but I still needed to be direct. "Before I continue, I just need you to know that there will never be a world which I trust you. Don't even think about lying."Darian put his hands up, as if in surrender. "Of course you have no right to trust me, Princess. However, now you have me intrigued," he said with a smirk. I didn't answer, only narrowing my eyes at him. He opened the door and gestured for me to come inside. "Please," he said, "do come inside, Princess."I took a hesitant step over the threshold but never ventured far from the door. I heard it click shut behind me and I stared at him, studied him. "If this is some sort of interrogation, please commence, Princess. I am very interested to hear what you have to say. Though, I'm sure I know exactly what you want to ask."Now I was just annoyed. He was obviously trying to get a rise out of me. "Don't you think it's a coincidence that you show up and only days later, someone tries to kill my brother?""Ah yes, a terrible coincidence indeed. You should know that I had and have no intentions of harming anyone here." I stepped forward, pointing a finger at his chest. "Did you hire that woman to kill my brother?"His eyes widened. "I believe I already answered your question, Princess.""I want to hear you say it."He looked at me, incredulous. "Why would you think I was behind that?""I already told you—""I'll stop you right there, Princess," he said interrupting me, taking a step closer. "I only came here because my father ordered it of me.""Theres more to it than that. There's something else you're not telling me. What is it?"He hesitates and says nothing, confirming my suspicion. "I will find out yoursecret, Darian. One way or another, I will know. You can't get away with murder forever, eventually, you'll have to pay for your crimes."My hands started to warm with rising tension, so I clasped them behind my back and focused on staying calm. Darian's expression shifted—first to confusion, then to amusement.I turned back to the door and right as I reached the handle, he spoke out again."Are you sure there isn't something you'd like to tell me, Princess?" he said, a smirk forming.I scowled. "What are you talking about?"He shrugged. "You just look like someone with something on her mind.""I'm trying to find out who tried to kill my brother," I snapped."Isn't that the job of your royal guards?" he said with a grin.I turned to leave."Happy to help, Princess," he called after me, shutting his door. I swore I could hear him laughing.Back in my room, I dropped onto my bed and groaned. What had I been thinking? That I'd march over there and Darian would just confess? I was lucky he hadn't turned it back on me.I needed to stop letting fear make my decisions.I looked down at my palm and summoned a flicker of flame. Just like earlier, it obeyed. For a moment, I smiled. I could control something—even if it was just a flame.But then the fear crept back in.What if I couldn't always control it?The book hadn't helped. It terrified me. Especially when I discovered who the author was: Julian Alexandros. The man who turned a kingdom to ash, the man who turned Atalar to ash. The monster the prophecy speaks of.Yet he'd written like he was watching his life unfold from the outside. He never referred to himself with "I" or "me". Just... Julian. Like he wasn't even the same person anymore.Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he had been consumed by his lust for power.The more I read, the more I learned. Shadowfire couldn't be extinguished by anything except the will of its wielder. Once it ignited, it kept burning—spreading unless I stopped it. I wasn't ready for that. Not even close.It also didn't emit light—only heat. Which made it perfect for hiding in the dark. Julian wrote about using it to stay warm while fleeing enemies, without giving away his position. It burned all night.And then came the part that truly shook me.Shadowfire didn't just summon flames. With enough control, I could bend shadow itself. Cloak an entire room in darkness. Block out the sun.I could become a shadow. Slip into them like a blanket. I could travel, undetected, through shadows and no one would be able to see me.Julian described leaving his physical body behind to enter a shadow-form—one immune to weapons, able to pass through walls. But vulnerable to light. And if something happened to his real body while he was gone... I wasn't telling Brock about that part. I prayed that he hadn't read it but I wasn't optimistic about it.The fire could raze a village in minutes. Its fuel? Emotion. Negative ones. The shadowself, as Julian called it, was fed by grief, rage, jealousy. The worst parts of him. Of me.I didn't want to believe that was my future.But deep down, I feared it might be.The next day Brock arrived, the same time as always."Did you read more of the book?" he asked immediately."Of course."He nodded and gestured for me to begin.I summoned a flame in my right hand. It danced over my skin like a living shadow, dark and wispy. I reached with my left, drawing on more power. Another small flame bloomed in my palm. I smiled at the sight—and Brock smiled, too."Good," he said. "Now call them back."I tried. I focused on pulling the energy inward, on reclaiming it—but the flames clung to me. Panic stirred. My hands trembled."Relax, Aleah," Brock said gently. "Breathe. Focus. Draw the energy back into your core."I did as he said, willing the flames to vanish. After a few deep breaths, the fire retreated. My palms were bare again."You're pushing too hard," Brock said quietly.I knew he was right. But I didn't want to admit it.I was scared. Of Amora. Of Darian. Of whoever had sent that assassin. I didn't have the luxury of slow progress. I needed control now.But if I pushed too fast, I might lose it entirely—and take everyone down with me.The next few days followed a rhythm. Brock helped me. I practiced. And by the end of the week, I could hold twin flames in both hands without fear.I practiced by myself while everyone was asleep. I summoned flame after flame and then recalled each one. I focus on making them bigger by chanelling more emotion into them and eventually, they grew. For the first time in a long while, I didn't feel helpless.I felt powerful and that scared me more than anything else.