Born of Flames

Chapter 5 ~ Annoyances and Friendships

    Morana stared down the wooden dummy before her, its sad frame scorched, nicked, and disfigured by her training session this morning. Unfortunately, it was about to become even more so. Her sessions never ended until she'd destroyed the dummy.

    Her father liked to joke that she was single-handedly keeping at least ten carpenters in business by demanding a new dummy every day. She always replied that she supplied them with the never ending source of scrap wood they kept requesting, so the relationship was mutually beneficial.

    Morana measured her breaths and reached for the glowing ember of power that lay nestled behind the tattoo on her sternum. Her magic was already reaching back when she brushed against it, and light illuminated the tattoo, filling the mark of a moon eclipsing a blazing sun.

    A mark symbolizing the day she had been born, when a blood moon had traveled backwards across the sky to eclipse the rising sun at dawn. The birth day of every Phoenix who had ever been, and ever would be.

    Magic spread through her limbs with a warm tingle, spanning to the immortal blade held in her grasp. Crimson flames wreathed Noxbane's onyx blade, licking towards the dummy with eager anticipation. But the magic restrained itself, waiting for Morana's command.

    It had been a long process getting to this point. So many times before, she'd been unrestrained and allowed her magic to take control of her. The things she'd done in those moments, she would never be able to forget.

    She had learned from those mistakes though, and altered her relationship with her magic accordingly. She did not command it and it did not command her. They served each other and neither could ever truly control the other, so they had learned to work together. Morana drew another slow breath as flames crackled over her other hand.

    With one quick exhale, she launched herself at the dummy. Magic barreled into its gut, scorching a weak point in the wood and Noxbane swung for the mark. Once the sword cleaved itself free of the wood, Morana dropped into a roll and landed behind it. The dummy fell in two pieces at her side, dust puffing beneath it.

    Morana picked herself up and swept her braid over her shoulder while the flames diminished around Noxbane. She sheathed the sword at her back and stooped to examine the cut. A few embers still flickered against the wood, but the whole thing hadn't erupted into flames this time, which was good. The last few had been nothing but piles of ash.

    "Shall I haul that one to the lumber yard or are you not done with it yet?" Lonan called.

    Morana glanced over her shoulder to see him approaching. She stood with a smile and dusted her hands on her thighs. "I think we're done here."

    "Good. Rehema said she's ready to go. I told Tarion I'd come find you."

    Morana furrowed her brows as her father lugged the two parts of the dummy upright. "That sounds like you have something you need to tell me." She pursed her lips and planted her hands on her hips. "You're not coming with us, are you?"

    Lonan shook his head. "Not this time. There's a lot to be done here and you don't need my help to look through a few old books, do you?"

    "I suppose not, unless you know how to read the Old Tongue. Most of the books that can actually help us are ones I don't know how to read."

    "I knew enough of the Old Tongue to understand it as it was spoken, but not enough to read or write it," Lonan replied. "I thought Tarion was teaching you how to read it?"

    Morana averted her eyes, her cheeks flushing. "He is, but I haven't quite picked it up yet."

    "Well, you'll have plenty of time to practice while you're at the Library. I'll keep an eye on things here so the two of you won't be disturbed." Lonan straightened and met her gaze with a smile. "Perhaps that would be a good time to discuss a few other things too."