The cavern of Mount Timboku was silent except for the drip of condensation against hot stone. Ash drifted like lazy snow through the air, glowing faintly in the molten light. Akira sat cross-legged on the scorched floor, his katana resting across his lap. His body was still sore from the blindfold duels, his arms carrying fresh bruises, but his spirit buzzed with restless anticipation. Master Ryoko stood before him, his expression unreadable as always. The master's voice cut through the heat, steady and sharp. "Akira. You have endured flame. You have learned to fight blind. Now, you must learn the language of fire." Akira tilted his head. "Language? You mean like… fire poetry? Because if you're about to make me recite haikus about burning wood, I'm out." Master Ryoko's brow twitched, but he ignored the joke. Instead, he raised his hands. Fingers moved with precision, weaving into strange patterns. In the glow of the volcano, it looked like he was painting symbols in the air.
"These," Ryoko said, "are hand signs. The sacred seals of the Fire Ninja. There are seven in total. Each draws power from a different spirit of flame. Alone, they are sparks. Together, they are storms." Akira leaned forward, eyes locked on the shifting shapes Ryoko made. "Seven signs… okay, now you've got my attention." Ryoko lifted his hand, forming the first sign, a closed fist pressed against his chest, thumb extended upward like a flame. "This is Ignis. The foundation. Pure fire. It is the root of every technique. Without Ignis, nothing manifests." He shifted, hands folding into a bird-like shape, fingers splayed. "Phoenix. Renewal. Rebirth. The eternal fire that rises from ash. Phoenix is endurance, the ability to sustain flame beyond its natural limit." He moved again, fingers curled like embers being cupped in palms. "Ember. Small, focused flame. It grants precision, control, and subtlety. An ember may seem weak, but it can smolder for days and ignite forests." Another shift, palms clapping together then spreading like waves of heat. "Inferno. Wild, destructive fire. Raw aggression. To summon Inferno is to unleash devastation, but it burns without loyalty." His hands snapped into a quick flick, fingers sparking together. "Spark. The catalyst. The beginning. It triggers all other flames. Spark without guidance is useless, but with it, every sign comes alive." Now Ryoko made a sharp, upward thrust of his palm. "Blaze. Consuming fire. Blaze strengthens body and weapon, coating them in heat. A dangerous sign, for it can eat away at the wielder as easily as the enemy." Finally, Ryoko spread his fingers wide, palms outward, flame-like. "Flare. The signal fire. A burst, a call, a blinding light. Flare is distraction, guidance, and warning. Rarely used in combat but essential in survival." Ryoko lowered his hands, letting silence settle. The volcano hissed behind him, spitting molten bubbles.
Akira stared, his brain buzzing. He tried to repeat the motions clumsily, fist for Ignis, bird-shape for Phoenix, cupped Ember. His fingers tangled, and Spark ended up looking like he was trying to snap while swatting a mosquito. Ryoko sighed. "Your hands are clumsy. But in time, they will speak fire." Akira muttered, "Pretty sure they're speaking gibberish right now."
The molten cavern hummed with heat, and Akira flexed his fingers until the joints cracked. He still hadn't mastered the signs Ryoko showed him. His "Phoenix" looked more like a chicken trying to escape a cage, and his "Ignis" had twice ended with him punching himself in the chest. Ryoko folded his arms. "Before you even attempt techniques, you must understand the laws of the hand signs." "Laws?" Akira asked, grimacing. "Like, Fire Ninja law enforcement? What happens if I jaywalk with a Spark?" The corner of Master Ryoko's lip twitched, as if a smile threatened, but he buried it under his usual sternness. "Mock me again, and I'll make you practice in the lava instead of beside it." Akira coughed and sat straighter. "Right. Serious face. Lava bad. Continue.
Master Ryoko began pacing, the belt at his hip glinting under volcanic light. "There are three unbreakable rules when it comes to the hand signs: First Rule: Never combine signs without intent. Fire responds to willpower. If your heart hesitates, the flames will rebel. Second Rule: The wrong sequence creates backlash. Small mistakes will burn your hands. Greater mistakes will ignite your body. Third Rule: No more than five signs at once. Your Chi and your life, cannot withstand more. Attempting six or seven together will consume you entirely, unless you're as powerful as the legendary Grandmasters or you've mastered the technique so well that you can upgrade to higher signs for a more effective form of the technique" He stopped pacing, his gaze locking on Akira. "Do you understand?" Akira swallowed hard. "Yeah. Don't hesitate, don't mess up the order, don't go overboard." "Good." Ryoko raised his hand again, showing Ignis, then slowly shifted into Ember. "Watch." He snapped his fingers into Spark. A tiny flame flickered into existence above his palm. It hovered there, glowing like a miniature sun. "Simple," Ryoko said. "Ignis plus Ember plus Spark. A controlled fireball." He tossed it into the air, and it fizzled harmlessly into ash. "Now you." He said Akira blinked. "Wait, just like that? You're giving me live matches after a five-minute lecture?" Master Ryoko's stare didn't waver. "Alright, alright!" Akira held up his hands. He clenched a fist to his chest, Ignis. He curved his fingers into the ember shape, Ember. Then he snapped his fingers for Spark.
For a split second, flame licked between his knuckles. His eyes widened. "I did it! Look, Ryoko-Sensei, I'm…" The fireball sputtered, coughed smoke, then exploded in his face with a loud pop! Akira staggered backward, coughing and waving his hand. His eyebrows smoked. "Okay, note to self: fireball technique also doubles as a face exfoliator." Master Ryoko rubbed his belly. "You hesitated after Ember. Your mind wandered. The flame punished you." "Punished me? It just tried to cook me!" Akira grumbled, rubbing his reddened cheek. "That was mercy. A stronger backlash would have scorched your lungs." Akira groaned. "So basically, I'm one wrong finger twist away from turning into roasted ninja skewers." Master Ryoko didn't deny it.
They continued. Again and again, Akira tried to string the signs together. Sometimes the fireball fizzled before forming. Sometimes it spat out sparks that burned his sleeves. Once, disastrously, he inverted Ember and Spark, causing the flame to detonate at his fingertips. He yelped and plunged his hand into a nearby puddle of hot volcanic water, hissing at the burn. Ryoko crouched beside him, inspecting the singed skin. "This is the path you chose, Akira. Mastery of flame demands sacrifice." Akira winced. "Yeah, well, if this keeps up, I'm gonna have to sacrifice my hands permanently." Master Ryoko smirked faintly. "Better your hands than your spirit. Flame respects courage. Show it weakness, and it will devour you." Akira flexed his fingers again, determination replacing his complaints. "Alright, fire. Round three. This time, no barbecue ninja."
The cavern rumbled as molten bubbles rose and burst in the lava pit. Ryoko crouched low, tracing lines in the ash-covered ground with the tip of his kusarigama's sickle. The symbols he drew resembled flames licking upward, curling in sharp arcs. "This," he said, stabbing the ash with finality, "is the path of the Flame Clone. Few in the Fire Villages have mastered it. Fewer still survived their first attempts." Akira blinked. "You're doing that thing again, Ryoko-Sensei." "What thing?" asked Master Ryoko. "Making the technique sound like some cursed scroll of doom." Akira scratched his head nervously. "Can't you just say, 'It's dangerous, kid, but if you don't mess up, you'll be fine'?" Ryoko's glare was sharp enough to cut stone. "Would you prefer I let you stumble blind into power that could consume you?" Akira quickly raised his hands. "Okay, okay! No stumbling. Just… teach me before my confidence combusts." Ryoko stood and began forming the sequence. His fingers snapped through each sign with fluid precision: Phoenix, fingers interlocked, wings poised to spread. Inferno, palms cupped, flames compressed. Ember, curled fingers, small but potent. Ignis, fist to chest, igniting spirit. Spark, the flicker that gives life.