Page 13 of House Ignis

The weight of it pressed hard against my ribs. Too many sounds. Too many people.

Too many memories rising all at once, unbidden and sharp.

My stomach twisted violently again, the ache flaring beneath my ribs until my vision tilted and the world swayed for a sickening moment.

"Ava?" Ember's voice softened, the laughter dying as her hand brushed my arm. "You okay?"

I forced a nod, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat that felt like a stone. "Yeah… it's just—Jax."

Ember's grin faltered, grief flickering across her green eyes. She reached out and pressed two fingers lightly against my chest, right over my heart. Her eyes glistened.

"He's right here with you," she said quietly. She leaned closer, her voice low but fierce, as if she could stitch the cracks inside me back together with her words.

"And he's totally watching us right now. Arms folded, smirking like the arrogant ass he was, just waiting to tease you the second you chicken out."

A breathy laugh slipped out of me—shaky, but real. I could almost see him there, standing in the shadow of the doorway.

Crooked grin. Leaning against the frame like he owned the entire godsdamn place, just waiting for me to stop hesitating and move.

Aether brushed his sleek shoulder against my leg, golden eyes smoldering as he sent a pulse of warmth through the bond to settle my nerves. My stomach still ached faintly, the earlier magic leaving its usual sting behind, but I forced myself to straighten my spine.

You're okay. You're fine.

I repeated it silently as we stepped through the heavy doors of House Ignis.

And then my breath caught.

The entrance hall soared high overhead, the vaulted ceilings threaded with charmed flames that curled and danced like living banners against the stone.

Torches burned in brackets of emberstone, their light mingling with drifting fae-lights that shimmered through the air like golden fireflies. Heat rolled off the walls in steady, pulsing waves—warm, but not suffocating. It felt like standing within the hearth of a god.

We moved deeper into the lounge, which stretched out toward a massive balcony suspended high above the Zymarran Sea.

My chest tightened at the sight. The sea spread vast and endless below us, its waters as dark as obsidian glass, broken only by the glow of molten rivers spilling from volcanic cliffs into the crashing waves.

In storms, they said the sea roared with fire.

Even now, the tides glowed with a faint emberlight, as if the gods themselves were stirring beneath the surface.

Sailors swore they'd seen fire-serpents rise from those depths—scales blazing like live coals before vanishing back into the abyss.

In the calm of daylight, the water shimmered with a crimson sheen, reflecting the jagged volcanic peaks in the distance.

Beautiful. Terrifying. Entirely alive.

Behind us, the lounge buzzed with restless energy.

Tables were sprawled with books and ancient parchments.

Groups of students laughed over steaming mugs of spiced cider, and a massive screen hung in one corner, replaying a Riftball match.

In a sparring circle nearby, two third-years clashed wooden swords, bursts of flame erupting with every sharp strike.

We passed a window overlooking the training gym below, where students moved in full leathers, sweat and fire crackling from their bodies in rhythmic bursts.

For the first time since arriving, it hit me fully.

This wasn't just a school. This was a forge where warriors were hammered into shape.