---
Chapter 4: Lessons in Fear
The next morning arrived like a wound in the sky—grey, heavy, and silent. Rain had fallen through the night, leaving the village-city of Eldrith slick and cold. Mud clung to the cobblestones; smoke from damp fires drifted low and sour. Raph wrapped his cloak tighter, wishing he could feel ordinary again. But the Embers beneath his skin pulsed restlessly, each element whispering in a different tongue—fire eager to burn, water longing to move, earth begging to anchor, gravity calling to pull him downward.
He tried to ignore them as he joined the villagers at the market square. He helped unload barrels, stack crates, pretend at a life that still belonged to him. Leron worked beside him, cheerful as always, but even his chatter couldn't hide the tension in the air. Everyone had heard of the cloaked figure. Fear was contagious, and it spread fast.
"Strange men always come before storms," muttered an old vendor, crossing herself with trembling fingers.
"Or before blood," another replied.
Raph's stomach tightened. He felt their eyes dart toward him—not accusing yet, but searching. The stranger's appearance had stirred more than rumor; it had awakened superstition.
By noon, the clouds broke open again. Raph slipped away toward the outskirts, where ruined watchtowers marked the edge of the old forest. He needed space to think, to breathe, to feel the Embers without prying eyes.
The air there was different—thick with the scent of wet moss and iron, ancient magic humming beneath the soil. He extended a hand and let his thoughts fall inward. The fire Ember flared first, bright and defiant; then water, cool and graceful, twining around the flame like silk. Earth rose next, grounding him. Gravity pressed low and deep, a weight behind his ribs. Space shimmered faintly at his fingertips, stretching perception. Light flickered. Darkness coiled.
He was everything and nothing at once.
The ground trembled.
Raph staggered back as energy burst outward—a raw, uncontrolled surge that split the nearest tree down the middle. Flames licked through the rain; steam hissed. A moment later, a deep voice echoed behind him.
"You're playing with forces that don't forgive mistakes."
Raph spun around.
The stranger stood there again, half-hidden beneath his hood, the same faint glow burning in his eyes. His presence was colder than before, older, like the forest itself bowed away from him.
"Who are you?" Raph demanded.
The man didn't answer. He walked forward slowly, boots sinking into the mud, gaze fixed on the charred tree. "A child wielding all seven Embers. I thought that legend was long dead."
Raph's breath caught. "Legend?"
The stranger looked at him finally, and for a heartbeat Raph felt as if he were falling through endless stars. "Once, long ago, there was one who could touch every Ember. He brought balance—and ruin. The world called him a savior, and then a monster. Which one will you be?"
Raph's mouth went dry. "I don't want to be either."
"Then you will become both."
The stranger extended a hand. Ember energy rippled from his palm, a dark light that warped the air. "Control begins with fear. You must learn what you are before you decide what you'll become."
Raph hesitated. Every instinct screamed to run, yet curiosity burned hotter. Slowly, he reached out. The instant their hands touched, the world vanished.
He was standing in a void—weightless, soundless, endless. The stranger's voice echoed through the emptiness.
"Face what holds you."
The Embers surged within him, twisting into visions. Fire became the faces of people he'd hurt accidentally as a child. Water turned into tears he'd never shed. Earth collapsed beneath his feet, showing the graves of nameless warriors. Gravity crushed him with the weight of failure. Light blinded him; darkness swallowed him whole.
He screamed.
When he opened his eyes, he was back in the forest, gasping, drenched in sweat. The stranger stood motionless before him.
"That was only the beginning," the man said quietly. "Every power has a price. Fear it, respect it, or it will devour you."
Raph tried to speak, but words failed. His legs trembled.
The stranger turned away. "When you are ready, find me at the edge of the canyon beyond Eldrith. If you survive your fear, you'll find your purpose."
And then he was gone—vanished as though the mist had swallowed him whole.
Raph sank to his knees, shaking. The trees whispered overhead, their branches heavy with rain. He pressed his hands into the mud and felt the Embers pulse in answer, calmer now but heavier, like chains of light around his heart.
He understood then that his life would never return to what it had been. Power had marked him, and fear would be both his teacher and his shadow.
That night, back in his small room, Raph stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His eyes glowed faintly—not red, not blue, not gold, but a swirling storm of all colors at once.
He whispered to the reflection, voice steady for the first time all day.
"I'm not afraid."
The Embers flickered in response—soft, approving, alive.
---