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Chapter 7 – Fire and Shadow
The morning bell rang through Qasr al-Jinan, its echo rippling down the marble halls like waves through glass. The faint scent of incense and spice filled the air, carried from the dining pavilion where dozens of students gathered around long wooden tables, their chatter mixing with clattering cups and laughter.
Zamira pushed her food around her plate more than she ate it — the bread too soft, the fruit too sweet, the air too heavy. Sleep had eluded her the night before; her thoughts kept circling back to her whispered prayers and to the boy who'd overheard them.
Rami sat beside her now, slouched over his plate, his eyes half-shut and hair messier than usual. His tunic was wrinkled, his flame emblem faintly singed at the edge — likely from whatever late-night fire stunt he'd attempted before stumbling into bed. He yawned so wide that Rosalith nearly dropped her spoon in mock disgust.
"By the gods," Rosalith said, dramatically fanning herself. "What did you two do last night? You look like the dead just rose for breakfast."
Rami blinked lazily. "Didn't sleep," he muttered, stabbing his eggs with unnecessary force. "Blame the beds. Too soft. Can't trust a bed that doesn't squeak."
Nova snorted softly beside Rosalith, sipping her tea. "Maybe if you didn't snore like a dying dragon, we'd all sleep."
"I do not snore," Rami said, mock-offended.
"You absolutely do," Remus said, not looking up from his book.
Sirius smirked slightly, stirring his tea. "You echo through walls."
"Traitors," Rami grumbled, glaring at all of them. "Every last one of you."
Zamira hid a small smile behind her cup. She hadn't told anyone about what happened the night before — the prayers, the conversation, the small bit of peace she'd found under the stars. She doubted she ever would. In a world that outlawed faith, secrecy was survival.
Rosalith turned her gaze toward Zamira, her auburn hair catching the morning light. "And you, Mira? You're quieter than usual. Couldn't sleep either?"
Zamira shrugged, eyes still on her plate. "Something like that."
Rosalith leaned closer with a mischievous grin. "Don't tell me you two were jumping in the roof."
Rami nearly choked on his water. "What—? No! We were— I mean—"
Zamira shot him a look sharp enough to silence him. "No," she said flatly. "We were not."
Rosalith laughed. "Fine, fine. Just teasing. You two are so easy."
"Not funny," Rami muttered, ears slightly red as Nova tried (and failed) to hide her grin.
Before the conversation could continue, the bell sounded again — sharper, commanding. All chatter stopped. Dozens of students rose to their feet as Master Valerius entered, his long coat fluttering slightly in the breeze that followed him.
"Training grounds," he called out in a calm but carrying voice. "Now."
---
The training arena of Qasr al-Jinan sat beneath an open dome of glass and light. The floor was a shifting pattern of stone circles and runes, each glowing faintly with its own element — blue for water, red for fire, green for earth, violet for spirit, black for shadow. The air crackled faintly with mana.
Zamira stepped onto the black-ringed circle, feeling its hum beneath her boots. The energy was familiar, almost comforting, like the pulse of something old she'd once known well.
Valerius paced across the center of the arena, his silver hair tied neatly behind him, his voice calm but steady. "Control before strength," he said, eyes sweeping over the gathered students. "If you can't control your mana, it controls you. And power without control is ruin."
His gaze flicked, just briefly, toward Zamira — not judgmental, but assessing. She looked away.
"Pair up," he said.
The moment he spoke, Rami grinned and elbowed Zamira. "Guess that's us."
She raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I wouldn't want to burn you alive by accident."
He smirked. "You wish you could."
They stepped into the circle, facing each other as Valerius began to instruct. Around them, pairs of students activated their magic — fire clashing with water, lightning with earth, energy swirling through the dome like ribbons of color.
Rami cracked his knuckles, flames sparking at his fingertips. "First to lose balance buys the other new hair products."
Zamira crossed her arms. "I don't share my secret products with idiots."
"Ouch. Well i wouldnt want them anyways."
The runes beneath them flared, signaling the start.
Rami moved first — fire streaking from his hands in controlled bursts, painting the air in orange light. He wasn't bad; in fact, he was good. Each movement was smooth, instinctive, filled with the kind of reckless confidence that came from practice and pride.
Zamira sidestepped easily, shadows rising from her feet like smoke. She didn't strike — just watched, analyzed, memorized the rhythm of his flame. The dark energy coiled around her wrists, ready but restrained.
"C'mon, Mira," Rami called, ducking behind a flicker of flame. "You can't just stand there and brood. At least pretend to fight back!"
She tilted her head, unimpressed. "You're doing fine burning the air."
He grinned and sent a wide arc of fire across the ring. The shadows caught it before it reached her, swallowing the flames whole before they faded into nothing. The crowd of watching students gasped.
"Whoa," whispered Nova from the sidelines. "She didn't even move."
Rosalith smirked. "She's holding back. You can tell."
Rami exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Okay. Maybe you're not completely helpless."
"Neither are you," she replied evenly.
They circled each other again, the shadows and flames flickering together in patterns of light and dark. Zamira's control was impeccable — each movement quiet, deliberate. Rami, by contrast, was raw energy and instinct. Fire crackled around him like laughter and rage combined.
Valerius watched them both carefully. "Enough," he said at last. "You understand your elements. Tomorrow, we test fusion. For now— rest."
Rami extinguished his flame with a flick, panting but smiling. "You didn't even try."
Zamira brushed dust from her sleeves. "You didn't make me."
He laughed softly. "You're insufferable."
"You talk too much."
"See? Perfect team."
---
By the time training ended, the sun had climbed high. The students filed out in pairs, laughing, exhausted. Zamira lingered, watching her shadows fade back into the ground. She hadn't used even a fraction of her power — but it had been enough to remind her what it felt like. The hum beneath her skin, the whisper of something ancient and dangerous.
She hated how good it felt.
Rami dropped down beside her on the edge of the fountain, tossing her a bottle of water. "You're terrifying when you're quiet."
She uncapped it without looking at him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's not." He smiled faintly. "It's kind of impressive, actually. You've got more control than anyone I've seen."
"Control isn't power," she said softly. "It's just fear in disguise."
He studied her for a moment, his teasing gone. "Then I guess we both live scared."
Before she could answer, Valerius called out, "Zamira. Rami. Good work today."
They both turned. The master gave a small nod, his eyes thoughtful. "You balance each other well. Fire and shadow — chaos and restraint. I expect you'll learn much from one another."
When he walked away, Rami grinned. "Hear that? Teacher likes me."
Zamira sighed. "Unfortunately."
---
After lunch, their next class was Arcane Theory — a cavernous room lined with shelves of glowing tomes. The professor, an older elf with moon-pale eyes, began a lecture on the history of magic convergence — how each element once stemmed from a single divine source before fragmenting into eight.
Rami yawned halfway through, earning a glare from Rosalith. "It's history, not nap time," she whispered.
"I'm allergic to boredom," he whispered back.
Zamira ignored them, flipping through her textbook — until the professor asked a question.
"Can anyone tell me why shadow and flame are considered incompatible elements?"
The room went silent. Dozens of students shifted uncomfortably. Even Rosalith didn't raise her hand.
Zamira did.
The professor's brow lifted. "Yes, Miss Zamira?"
She met his gaze, her tone calm and measured. "Because both are consuming forces. Fire devours light and life. Shadow devours light and truth. When combined, they unmake instead of create."
The professor blinked, visibly surprised. "Correct. And… where did you learn that?"
She shrugged. "I read."
Rami leaned toward her and whispered, "Show-off."
"Maybe you should try it sometime."
He grinned. "Reading? Overrated."
When the final bell rang, the group walked together through the courtyard, golden light spilling across the white stones. Rosalith chatted animatedly with Nova; Sirius and Remus walked behind, deep in quiet conversation.
Rami slowed his pace beside Zamira, nudging her shoulder lightly. "You did good today."
She shot him a sideways glance. "You mean I didn't set anyone on fire?"
"I mean," he said, smirking, "you didn't punch anyone this time. Progress."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. For the first time since she'd arrived, she felt something almost like peace — fleeting, fragile, but real.
And as they walked toward the towers, the last rays of sunlight spilling across their path, Rami looked at her with that half-smile again.
"Fire and shadow, huh?" he said quietly. "Guess we're stuck with each other."
Zamira didn't answer. But she didn't need to.
For once, silence said everything.