After training for hours, the sky had already begun to darken.
The orange glow of the sunset bled slowly across the horizon, dissolving behind the tall academy buildings until only a dim, bruised light remained. Long shadows stretched across the training yard, swallowing the ground in quiet darkness. Jelo's body felt heavy in a way that went deeper than muscle. His clothes clung to him, soaked through with sweat, and his palms still radiated warmth from hours of creating and compressing flames over and over until the motion felt like breathing.
Chloro looked up at the darkening sky and gave a small, unhurried nod.
"That's enough for today."
Jelo lowered his hand. The compressed flame sitting in his palm flickered once, then vanished. He exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders.
"You did well," Chloro said. His voice was calm. Measured. The kind of tone that didn't throw compliments around carelessly.
