James hit the ground hard.
Again.
The glowing grass of the Aetherwilds cushioned his fall, but not enough to stop the burning in his lungs or the ringing in his ears. Above him, Sage stood with one hand raised, silver energy crackling around her fingertips like impatient lightning.
"Pathetic," she said flatly. "You lasted four seconds that time. An improvement of exactly zero point zero seconds from your previous attempt."
James groaned, rolling onto his back. The alien sky swirled overhead—purple, gold, and crimson in constant motion. Floating islands drifted lazily in the distance. Somewhere, a creature with wings of fire screeched.
"I'm trying," he gasped.
"Trying is for people who want to lose." Sage lowered her hand. "The Crucible doesn't care about effort. It cares about results. You have three days to learn how to channel your power without it killing you. So far, you're failing."
James sat up, wincing. His entire body was a canvas of bruises. Sage had been pushing him for hours—testing his reflexes, his endurance, his ability to summon even a spark of golden energy.
Every time, he failed.
The Dragonheart Bloodline was like a caged beast. He could feel it there, roaring beneath his skin, desperate to break free—but the moment he tried to control it, it slipped through his fingers like smoke.
"I don't understand," he muttered. "It's there. I can feel it. But when I reach for it—"
"Because you're reaching," Sage interrupted. "That's your problem. The Dragonheart isn't a tool to be grasped. It's a fire to be fed. You don't control it. You guide it. You let it flow through you like water through a riverbed."
She crouched beside him, her scarred face softening just slightly.
"Your mother understood that. She didn't fight her power. She became one with it. And that's why she was the most feared cultivator of her generation."
James looked at his hands. Still trembling. Still weak.
"I don't know how to become one with anything," he admitted. "I've spent my whole life fighting just to survive."
Sage nodded slowly. "Then let's start there. Stop trying to control the power. Just... exist with it. Breathe. Feel it. Let it know you're not afraid."
James closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The golden warmth stirred deep in his chest, hesitant but curious.
I'm not afraid of you, he thought. I'm not afraid anymore.
For a split second, the warmth responded. A flicker of gold danced across his palm—
Then a voice shattered the moment.
"IS THAT A NEWBIE? OH, THIS IS DELICIOUS!"
James's eyes snapped open. A blur of motion barreled toward him—and suddenly, a face was inches from his own, grinning like a maniac.
The face belonged to a young man about James's age, with wild brown hair, mismatched eyes (one blue, one green), and the most ridiculous grin James had ever seen. He wore tattered robes that looked like they'd been through ten wars and lost every single one.
"Hello, hello, HELLO!" the young man exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "New face! Fresh meat! Tell me everything—who are you, where are you from, what's your bloodline, are you single, do you like—"
"Get away from him, Kael," Sage growled, grabbing the young man by the collar and yanking him back.
"OW! Sage, you wound me! With violence! The one thing I cannot heal with my charming personality!"
Kael—if that was his name—flailed dramatically, but Sage held him at arm's length like he was a misbehaving cat.
James stared, utterly confused.
"Who... who is this?"
Sage sighed deeply, as if the universe had personally offended her.
"This is Kael. He's a nuisance. A pest. A walking disaster. He's also the only other person in the Aetherwilds who won't try to kill you on sight, so unfortunately, you're stuck with him."
Kael wiggled free and immediately bounded toward James, grabbing his hand and shaking it violently.
"Kael Shadowvale! Adventurer, scholar, occasional thief, and full-time legend! But you can call me your new best friend!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard you're the Last Dragonheart. That's SO COOL. I'm literally nothing. Grade Four cultivator, no special bloodline, no tragic backstory. Just me. And my charm. And my—"
"Your complete lack of survival instincts," Sage finished flatly.
Kael clutched his chest dramatically. "Sage! You wound me! Again! With WORDS this time!"
James couldn't help it. A laugh escaped him—the first genuine laugh in what felt like years.
Kael beamed. "See? He likes me! New best friend confirmed!"
Sage pinched the bridge of her nose. "Kael, if you're going to be here, at least make yourself useful. Teach him how to breathe properly or something. I'm going to check the Crucible's match schedule."
She vanished in a swirl of silver energy, leaving James alone with the grinning chaos that was Kael.
"So," Kael said, plopping down beside James, "Sage is harsh but fair. Well, harsh mostly. But she's right—you need to learn how to feed your fire. And I happen to be an expert in fire."
James raised an eyebrow. "You're a fire cultivator?"
"NO, absolutely not, fire hates me, I burned down a village once by accident—long story, don't ask—but I'm an expert in figurative fire. Passion! Determination! Fighting spirit!" He punched the air enthusiastically. "You've got that in spades, Dragonheart boy. I can sense it."
He poked James's chest.
"Stop thinking of your power as a weapon. Think of it as a friend. A grumpy, dangerous, possibly homicidal friend—but a friend nonetheless. If you treat it like an enemy, it'll fight you. If you treat it like a partner..." He grinned. "It might just save your life."
James blinked. "That's... actually good advice."
Kael gasped. "I KNOW! I'm full of surprises! Like the time I accidentally teleported into the wrong realm and spent three weeks as a goat—"
"A goat?"
"Don't interrupt the story. The goat part is crucial." Kael leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Anyway, the point is—you're not alone anymore, James. You've got a mentor who believes in you. And now you've got me."
He winked. "And I'm basically the best thing that's ever happened to anyone."
James found himself smiling despite everything.
For the first time since the Grand Arena, he didn't feel completely alone.
"Alright," he said, standing up and brushing off the glowing grass. "Teach me. How do I make this power my friend?"
Kael jumped to his feet, cracking his knuckles dramatically.
"FIRST! We meditate. But not boring meditation. Fun meditation. We're going to picture your power as a fire. And we're going to dance with it."
James stared. "Dance?"
"YES! THE DANCE OF FRIENDSHIP AND FLAMES!" Kael threw his arms wide. "Don't worry, I'm not that good at dancing either. But it's about intention, not skill."
He grabbed James's hands and started bouncing excitedly.
"Ready? Three, two, one—"
And then Kael tripped over his own feet, crashed into James, and sent them both tumbling into a patch of glowing flowers—which immediately began biting them.
"OW OW OW OW! WHY DO THEY BITE?!" Kael screamed.
James laughed even as the flowers snapped at his arms.
Maybe the Aetherwilds was going to kill him.
But at least he'd have a friend by his side.