“You have a lot of explaining to do,” the figure said.

From the voice and figure’s outline, it was clear that the person standing before him was a woman.

“Who are you?” Philip asked, wondering if he was still dreaming.

“I’m the one asking the questions here,” the woman replied. Her voice had a hard edge to it. Philip looked at the knife in her hand nervously, painfully aware that he was completely defenceless.

“Why is a pyromancer bearing the Seal of Eucline on a battlefield?” she demanded.

Philip vaguely recalled the Dean calling the seal by such a name as he etched it into his skin. “It… it was the only way they would let me leave the Academy,” he stammered.

The woman leapt onto Philip, slamming a knee into his chest as she held the knife to his neck. “Don’t lie to me!” she roared, “the Academy would never let a pyromancer leave the king’s service alive.”

“It’s… it’s true,” Philip spluttered, trying to squirm away from the blade, “my… my master forced their hand.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. Now that they were almost nose to nose, he could see she had green eyes and grey streaked red hair. Her face was as hard as her voice, and strangely, she looked familiar, though Philip couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Who’s your master?” she demanded.

“Fred… Frederick of the Flame… Frederick Pelton… Sir Frederick Pelton,” Philip replied, “he said he threatened to down tools if I was not released from service.”

The woman’s green eyes bored into Philip, trying to see if he was telling the truth. After what felt like an eternity, she rose and stood over him. Then, to Philip’s surprise, she threw her head back and began laughing heartily.

Philip looked up at her, confused but still not daring to move. Was she sent to kill him? It didn’t seem like it. Was she friendly? It was too soon to tell, but it seemed like she was ready to kill him had his answers not satisfied her.

“That talentless pupil of mine went and got himself a student, did he?” she said, shaking her head.

Philip looked up at her and he realised where he knew her face from. “You are Penelope the Red,” he gasped.

The resemblance to the portraits at the Academy was clear, she had aged considerably. The skin on her face was lined and wrinkled and her hair had lost its lustre. However, what was most striking was her eyes, they flared briefly when her anger rose, but most of the time, they looked muted and dull, as if the life had gone from them.

“I thought you were dead,” Philip remarked.

“I am,” Penelope replied, her earlier good humour gone, “what you see before you is a ghost.”

Philip looked at her, confused. She looked real enough to him. Penelope looked down at Philip’s chest and frowned. “A Seal of Eucline carved into the skin, I take it this is Stevan Lorin’s work?”

Philip nodded.

“So, that pedant is the Dean of the Academy now,” Penelope mused to herself, “good for him.”

“Though it’s clear that he didn’t care much for you,” she continued, “or perhaps he was taking out some of his frustrations on you.”

Philip looked away to hide his embarrassment. “He said I was his greatest failing and the biggest blight on his career,” he admitted.

“And no wonder,” Penelope laughed, “a failed pyromancer. King Storin must have wept tears of blood in frustration.”

“I don’t know about that,” Philip began.

“How did you fail?” Penelope asked, her eyes hard once again.

“I… I have a fear of fire,” Philip stammered, “a debilitating one.”

“Ah,” Penelope said, “that does explain a lot.”

She studied Philip who became very conscious of the fact that he was completely naked.

“What are you doing?” Philip asked, not able to meet her gaze.

“Did no one teach you how to control your flames in the Academy?” Penelope ventured at length.

Philip shook his head. “Well, it’s difficult to learn how to control flames when you can’t conjure them in the first place.”

Penelope grunted. “That figures.”

She looked up at the sky as though thinking over an important decision. At length, she looked back at Philip. “Do you wish to learn how to control your power?”

Philip looked away. “I did try for five years at the Academy but failed… I wish I didn’t have it.”

He looked back at Penelope, “couldn’t you just seal it again?”

Penelope shook her head. “The Seal of Eucline is the most powerful seal I know of and that was not enough to hold your power in.”

Philip thought back to the events of the plateau, and grief began to overwhelm him once more.

“What if I said I could teach you to control this power, to wield it?” Penelope sighed at length, “what would you do once you mastered it?”

Philip blinked the tears away before looking up at the older woman. “I hadn’t given it much thought... but I suppose I’d go somewhere willing to accept outsiders and find work… maybe work in a mill.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “A mill?”

“My father was a miller,” Philip replied defensively, “working in a mill makes me feel connected to him and my family.”

Penelope nodded and sighed as she looked up at the trees. “It’s probably better that you’re unambitious.”

Philip didn’t know what to say in response to that.

At length, Penelope looked back at him. “Do you wish to learn?”

The prospect of being taught once again brought memories of the stress and feelings of uselessness back from the Academy. The constant pressure, berating, the whispers of others of wasted talent, being labelled useless, an embarrassment. It all came flooding back and manifested as a familiar, unpleasant ball in the pit of his stomach.

“And if I say no?” he asked quietly.

Without warning, Penelope knelt down, planting a knee on Philip’s chest. The knife flashed in her hand as she held it to her neck.

“Then I kill you here,” she said. Her voice was soft but the look in her eye and the knife at his throat told Philip that she meant it.

Philip winced. “Why?” he asked weakly, “you could just seal it away again and we could hope for the best.”

“Hope for the best?” she repeated, her voice dangerously soft, “because your inability to control your power has just caused the deaths of thousands. If you do not learn to control to wield it instead of letting it wield you, this tragedy will only be repeated.”

Philip saw the truth in her words and bit his lip.

“You are dangerous,” Penelope continued, “it would be irresponsible of me to let you out into the world as you are.”

Something seemed off about what she was saying. Philip knew he might regret asking, but he decided it was best to ask it now. “Why would you teach me then?” he asked, “why not just kill me? Gods know I deserve it.”

Penelope glared at him, and Philip winced, fearful that he had pushed his luck too far.

“Because I have no right to judge you on your past deeds,” her voice was tinged with sadness as her expression softened, “as for why I’m willing to teach you, I do feel somewhat responsible for the state you’re in.”

Philip looked at her blankly. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Penelope laughed, and the hardness fell away, “you were taught by my pupil after all, and I do bear some responsibility for his failings.”

“Ah,” Philip said, though he didn’t quite understand.

“If you agree to be my student, it will mean I am taking responsibility for you,” Penelope continued, “and if I think you are too big a threat to be allowed to live, I will kill you myself.”

Philip swallowed. The terms being offered weren’t bad. She was right, he was dangerous as he was, and if he couldn’t learn to at least control his power, perhaps it was better if he was dead.

“I agree,” Philip said at length.

“Though still, to have three in the space of a few years,” Penelope muttered as she lowered the knife and got to her feet, allowing Philip to breathe a little easier, “that is most unusual.”

Philip looked at her blankly as she shook her head. “No, probably just a coincidence.”

“This may be a little late,” she said, looking back down at Philip who was still lying in the dirt, naked as the day he was born, “but I believe introductions are in order.”

“Penelope,” she said, offering Philip her hand, “though you already knew that.”

“Philip,” he replied, “I suppose I have a new teacher now.”

“Oh Philip, hold still, would you?” she asked.

Before he could react, Penelope grasped his hand tight and sliced one of his fingertips with her knife.

“What are you doing?” Philip gasped.

“Hold still,” she repeated.

She produced a bone needle from her pocket and dipped it in the blood that was oozing out of Philip’s fingertip. She then used the blood dipped needle to scrawl something on his chest. Philip understood what she was doing and lay as still as he could. Every now and then, she would squeeze his finger to extract more blood and soon, she was done.

“That wasn’t as painful as the first time,” Philip remarked.

“Try and call upon your power,” Penelope commanded, “I’m assuming you know how.”

He tried to call upon the orb but found he was unable to. This seal felt different from the dean’s. He could still feel the ball of warmth within him though it seemed distant and out of reach. A quick check in the stream confirmed that his eyes were back to normal.

“This is only temporary,” Penelope warned, “and not as effective as the one Stevan gave you. It will shatter more easily or and lose its power altogether if the blood is smudged.”

Philip nodded.

“Let’s get going then, we’ve wasted enough time here as it is,” she said, “they’ll pick up your trail as soon as they enter the forest and it will lead them right here.”

“What do you mean?” Philip asked.

He followed Penelope’s gaze as she looked around them and gasped. The ground around them had been scorched black, and a burnt out path in the undergrowth stretched out in the direction he had come.

“I’m afraid that with the seal, walking barefoot is going to be a bit more painful,” Penelope said as she set off through the undergrowth, “but you’re just going to have to endure it.”

“Excuse me,” Philip said sheepishly as he started after her.

“What is it?”

“Could I, ah,” Philip said, red-faced with embarrassment, “could I borrow your cloak?”

Penelope turned around and grinned as though noticing his nudity for the first time. She pulled her cloak off and tossed it to him. He could see she was dressed warmly under the cloak, wearing multiple layers of clothes despite the summer heat.

“Thank you,” he said, wrapping it around his shoulders and glad for the warmth. Just then, his stomach rumbled, and he looked at her sheepishly. Wordlessly, she tossed him a pouch of nuts and started walking.

They continued walking through the forest in silence. Penelope led the way unerringly through the undergrowth and Philip struggled to keep up. He’d stepped barefoot on an upturned branch, and the pain had been enough to make him focus on where he was setting each foot for the rest of the trip. The undergrowth was thick with no clear paths and Penelope set a quick pace. Philip often lost sight of her through the foliage. However, whenever he thought he had lost sight of her for good and would be forced to spend the rest of his days lost in the woods, she would return to him unerringly with an irritated look on her face.

“I don’t suppose it was luck that you happened to be in these forests at this time,” Philip remarked when they stopped for a rest. They were sitting in a small clearing where the sun’s rays reached all the way to the forest floor. Philip and Penelope looked up, glad for the sun’s warmth on their faces despite the summer heat.

“Penelope shrugged, “I was there to see the battle.”

“Do you live nearby?” Philip ventured.

Penelope shook her head. “It took me three days to get to the plateau from my home, but at the rate we’re going now, it’ll probably take us twice that.”

Philip lowered his head. “Sorry.”

He awkwardly sipped at a skin of water and wondered if his aching and cut up feet would make it to wherever their destination was. There was a lengthy silence, which Philip was unaccustomed to. When he was with his friends, he scarcely had time to think with the way they spoke over each other.

“Do you make it a point to keep up to date with the happenings in the kingdom?” he asked.

Penelope let off a sharp laugh. “No, what happens to Celethir is no concern of mine.”

“Then why make such a long trip to see the battle?”

Penelope looked at Philip who pulled the cloak tighter around himself self-consciously. “Because many friends of mine died conquering the lands south of the Humi Mountains,” she replied, “in a way, it is our legacy.”

She smirked before continuing, “I just wanted to see just how thoroughly that imbecile commander of yours would squander our hard work and sacrifice.”

Philip winced. “It was a pretty poor showing from what I was told.”

“It’s no fault of yours, young man,” Penelope said, “I too know the pain of serving under incompetent commanders.”

There was another lengthy silence as Penelope became lost in her thoughts. No doubt reminiscing of her war so many years ago, Philip thought.

“He always spoke highly of you, you know,” Philip said at length.

Penelope gave him a confused look. “Who did?”

“My master, Frederick Pelton,” Philip replied.

Penelope broke out into another fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “but you’re going to stop referring to him as your master if you want me to take you seriously.”

“I owe him my life,” Philip said defensively, “twice over.”

“I don’t mean to belittle him,” Penelope said, wiping a tear from her eye, “the boy always had a big heart, but to say he lacked talent as a pyromancer would be generous.”

Frederick had seemed competent enough to him, but Philip had to admit he didn’t have many reference points in that regard.

“How’s he doing these days anyway?” Penelope asked, “still glaring at the Galataens while praying fervently they don’t attack so that his lack of talent remains hidden from the entire world?”

“He’s still on the Eastern Marches if that’s what you mean,” Philip replied.

“And no wonder,” Penelope smiled, “King Storin and Frederick both know the Galataens won’t make any big moves around the Celethir border until they’ve sorted out their problems to the north but having him there should deter them from being overly aggressive.”

Penelope soon had them walking again. They continued through the seemingly ended forests until the light began to dwindle. Philip had been observing his surroundings as best he could but could discern no landmarks. He quietly hoped Penelope knew where she was going, though he could not figure out how she was navigating.

“We’d best stop here for the night,” Penelope said, bringing them to a halt under the shadow of a large evergreen.

There was a sizable bed of pine needles around the base of the tree which they gathered to make beds for the night. Philip massaged his aching feet as Penelope gathered loose branches and placed them in a pile close by.

“How are your feet?” Penelope asked.

“I’ll manage,” Philip replied. Even though he frequently walked about the town barefoot like most peasants, the going through the forest had been tough for him. He had developed a few cuts when he had trodden on splintered branches or jagged rocks. He kept it quiet at first and soldiered on but kept slipping on his own blood. When Penelope found out, she had admonished him helped him cauterize his wounds by turning her hand red hot.

Philip averted his eyes as the branch Penelope was holding burst into flames in her hand. She placed it carefully on top of the pile and waited impatiently for the rest of the wood to catch fire. Unsatisfied with the rate at which the fire grew, she placed her hands on the pile and soon, the fire crackled and spat, enveloping her face briefly. Unaffected by the fire, she nodded with satisfaction before sitting next to Philip.

“I thought I was the only one who didn’t feel the heat,” Philip remarked, focusing on his feet, “Frederick kept singeing his hair, so he decided to shave it off, eyebrows and all.”

Penelope laughed. “So he finally gave up on keeping his hair.”

“His body has a surprisingly low tolerance to heat for a pyromancer,” she remarked, “which is why he’s so limited as one.”

Penelope frowned as she looked into the flame. “Or perhaps our tolerance is unusually high. Pyromancers are such a rarity that it is hard to say what is normal.”

“You did mention that it was rare for three to show up in the space of a few years,” Philip remarked. The fire grew, and he basked in its warmth though he dared not look at it directly. Part of him wanted to take off his cloak so he could fully expose his body to its heat, but his modesty prevented him from doing so.

“Did I?” Penelope asked, looking at Philip.

Philip nodded.

“I’m sorry, I’ve lived alone for a long time and I’ve gotten into the habit of talking to myself,” she said, “but yes, it is very unusual for three to appear in a single kingdom and even more so for so many to appear within a single lifetime.”

“I know there aren’t that many of us who can manipulate fire,” Philip began.

“Excluding the two of us, there are six in the whole world,” Penelope said, “or the known world that is.”

“That is pretty rare,” Philip conceded.

A coy smile crossed Penelope’s face. “Rare isn’t even the beginning of it,” she said, “I was the first pyromancer to be born in Celethir in the kingdom’s four hundred year history.”

Philip raised an eyebrow.

“For Frederick to come only twenty years later was a hitherto unheard of blessing,” she paused before adding, “and now there’s you.”

Philip shrugged and Penelope continued, “Morovin hasn’t had one for a hundred years, but they’re a small kingdom. Galatae is massive, and they have had two in the last three hundred years of their recorded history, none of whom are alive today.”

“So our kingdom is pretty lucky,” Philip remarked. The numbers were just that to him. Numbers.

“Perhaps,” she said. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before shaking her head.

“Enough about that,” she declared, clapping her hands together, “how about you use this as a chance to get over your fear of fire?”

Philip swallowed and tried to bring the fire into the periphery of his vision, but a wave of nausea overcame him. He ran a short distance and wretched into a bush.

“That’s something you’re going to have to work on,” Penelope warned, “why are you so afraid of fire anyway?”

“When my powers first awakened, my home caught fire and it burned my family to death,” Philip replied, “over the years I’ve grown to tolerate being near fire, but my body shuts down if I see it.”

“I was lucky that the only thing I burned down was a field when my powers manifested,” Penelope remarked.

She gave Philip a sympathetic look. “The death of your family was not your fault.”

“So I’ve been told,” Philip replied bleakly, “repeatedly.”

“But the death of your friends and everyone else at Gelt’s Pass was,” Penelope continued.

Philip’s mouth gaped as her bluntness took him by surprise.

“Your inability to master your power led to the tragedy there,” Penelope said.

“Why do I have to master the fire?” Philip asked as he regained his composure, “wouldn’t it be enough to learn to regulate it?”

Penelope shook her head. “Now that your power has been revealed, there will be people coming after you to bring you under their influence. Whether you wish to go with them or not, you will likely be put into a position where you’re forced to use your power, just like at the plateau.”

Philip shuddered at the prospect of that. “Couldn’t I just hide?”

“You know the Gifted can sense each other if they are close enough, don’t you?” Penelope ventured.

Philip nodded, then came to a realization. “Why is it I couldn’t sense you, then?” he asked, “I have this seal now, but before you put it on, I didn’t feel your presence at all.”

Penelope smiled. “I found out we are able to conceal our presence completely, but it takes a lot of concentration and even I can only do it for short periods.”

“They didn’t teach us anything like that at the Academy,” Philip remarked.

“And why would they?” Penelope laughed, “that would make you harder for them to find if you ever went rogue.”

“Who taught you, then?” Philip ventured.

“My master, Gordon Dorist,” Penelope replied.

Philip frowned. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of him at the Academy.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Penelope replied. She stretched and yawned, “that’s enough time for chatting. We’ve got another long day of walking tomorrow and we need to start early.”

Philip slept as close as he dared to the crackling fire. He drifted off to sleep to the scent of pine needles and burnt sap.

That night, he dreamt of the night his family died. This time, he was watching from the edge of the room as the fire enveloped their bed. Instead of screaming, his family merely stared back at him emotionlessly as the fire continued to rage around them. A sudden flare up obscured them from his view briefly. When he could see the bed again, they were gone, reduced to a pile of ash. The bed, however, was curiously untouched.

Philip woke up feeling more unsettled than fearful. Their campfire had died down, but the twilight that bathed the forest in shades of grey told him that it was just before dawn. Close by, Penelope sneezed and woke up with a start.

“Sleeping outdoors is the worst,” she muttered half to herself. She looked at Philip and blinked, confused for a moment, before shaking her head.

“That’s right,” she said, “I have a companion on this trip.”

They shared a loaf of bread for breakfast, and she checked on her supplies. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to teach you how to forage.”

They began their journey that day at a slow pace. Penelope pointed out the pinecones and other nuts that could be eaten, which berries, and mushrooms were edible, and which were poisonous.

“I suppose we should catch some fish before heading up to the mountains,” Penelope mused, “but we have another day before we leave the forests at the rate we’re going.”

“You live in the mountains?” Philip wondered out loud.

Penelope had a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll see,” she said coyly.

“When will my training begin?” Philip ventured. He was anxious to begin now that his life depended on it. He also hoped it would help take his mind off his guilt over killing his friends.

“We won’t be able to start until we get that seal off you,” Penelope replied, “and it won’t be safe to do that until we get further up the mountain.”

As the day wore on, their path grew steeper, and the trees began to thin.

“Are we going over the mountains?” Philip panted. As their way grew steeper, each step seemed harder than the last. The thinness of the air on top of that only served to make things worse.

Penelope half turned and grinned. “Something like that. Think you’re up to it?”

Philip swallowed and nodded.

She then looked around as though trying to get her bearings. “I only brought enough food for a round trip for one,” she said, “now that we have twice the mouths to feed and taking twice as long on top of that, we’d better find some more substantial food.”

Philip perked up at that. The bread from breakfast was already a distant memory. The nuts and berries they had found were better than nothing but only just.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, trying to keep the excitement from his voice.

Penelope didn’t answer and instead changed direction. Filled with hope, Philip followed her. She took a few steps in one direction, paused, then a few steps in another. Then, satisfied, she turned at Philip and smiled. “Can you hear it?”

Philip cupped a hand to his ear and heard the sound of a burbling stream carried by the wind.

“Let’s go,” Penelope said, leading the way.

They followed the sound to a small stream, and Penelope frowned as she looked around once again.

“I think it’s upstream,” she said, “but if I’m wrong, we’ll probably just have to go hungry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s more fun if I don’t tell you,” Penelope replied. Her eyes danced mischievously as she gave Philip a look before turning back towards the stream.

“Fun?” Philip wondered to himself as she began walking upstream.

“This will cost us half a day, but it’ll be worth it,” she said as they walked along the stream’s rocky banks.

“I thought we were evading pursuers,” Philip remarked.

Penelope looked over her shoulder and shrugged. “We should be fine; we’re a good distance from where I found you, though I would rather get home sooner than later.”

Philip found the change in his new teacher’s demeanour strange. She had a bounce in her step, almost like she was a little girl playing in the woods with a friend. It was a stark change from the ferocious woman who had casually threatened his life the day before though he supposed anyone would be set on the edge after seeing what happened at Gelt’s Pass. They continued upstream for about an hour and Philip heard a faint rumbling the distance.

“Good news,” Penelope beamed over her shoulder, “I was right.”

The rumbling grew louder as they continued upstream until they came upon a waterfall. Water cascaded from a rockface fifty feet above them into a large pool which was drained by the stream they had followed. The pool itself was an indentation caused by the water as it fell over thousands of years. They walked up to the pool and Philip spotted fish up to a foot long darting around in the crystal clear water.

“Is that lunch?” Philip ventured, as his stomach rumbled at the thought of food.

Penelope nodded. “I’m glad their numbers have multiplied since the last time I was here.”

“Do we have time to catch them?” Philip asked.

Penelope grinned. “I suppose that’s up to you. It’s time for your first lesson.”

Philip looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Penelope dipped her hand into the pool and rubbed the blood seal off his chest. Philip felt the orb’s warmth in his chest grow as the seal was smeared. As the warmth spread from his chest through the rest of his body, he found that he could now feel Penelope’s aura next to him. Standing close to her, he could feel a great depth to her power, far beyond any he’d ever encountered before.

“Now, I think you have the power to do what I have in mind,” Penelope began, “but what you’re lacking is the control.”

“What do you want me to do?” Philip asked warily.

“Dip your feet into the pool,” Penelope ordered.

Philip sat by the pool, across from the waterfall and tentatively dipped his feet in. He withdrew his feet involuntarily as they touched the surface. The water was freezing.

“I know it’s cold,” Penelope said, “even to normal people. It’s fed by snowmelt, but please keep your eye on the prize, lunch.”

Philip swallowed and plunged his feet into the freezing water. It felt like icy cold needles were poking his feet. In his reflection in the pool, Philip could see that his eyes were beginning to glow red.

“Now, focus your power on your feet,” Penelope said.

Philip did so gladly. Learning this at the Academy had been straightforward enough. It was just manifesting the flames that he had trouble with. Soon, his feet began to warm.

“Good, now pour more power into your feet,” Penelope instructed, “as much as you can, but keep it focused in your feet.”

Philip did as he was instructed and focused on the orb, calling upon its power and channelling it towards his feet. Soon, steam began to rise from the surface of the water above his feet.

“Now,” Penelope said, “what say we add a bit of a twist?”

“Excuse me?” Philip asked, not sure if he heard her correctly.

“What are you doing?” Philip gasped as she pushed Philip’s borrowed cloak aside so she could place her hand on his bare skin.

“Focus now,” Penelope ordered, as Philip’s concentration slipped. His whole body went hot, and he was not sure if it was because of his teacher’s closeness to his naked body or if it was because of his momentary lapse.

He focused on the orb again, directing its warmth to his feet, and soon, the steam began to rise once more.

“Good,” Penelope said, “you must not allow yourself to get distracted so easily.”

“Was that the twist?” Philip asked.

“No,” Penelope replied, “now I want you to store as much power as you can in the orb and release it all at once through your feet.”

“The water will ensure that there are no flames,” she assured him as he gave her a worried look, “and I am here as an added safeguard.”

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Philip admitted.

“Well, start by giving me back my cloak,” Penelope said.

Philip gave her a confused look.

“That is the only garment you have available to you,” Penelope pointed out candidly, “do you really want to risk losing it before we go up into the mountains?”

Philip looked up at a snow capped peak and shuddered involuntarily before reluctantly handing his only piece of clothing over. Penelope wrapped it around her shoulders and looked back at him.

“Won’t it burn if you’re so close?” he asked, feeling very self-conscious at his nudity.

Penelope smirked. “Don’t you worry about that, young man.”

Philip gave her a dubious look.

“Are you ready to begin?” she asked.

Philip nodded.

“Focus on the orb, it is the manifestation of your power,” Penelope said, “make it as hot as you can. Then, when you feel it is as hot as you can make it, release the power through your feet in one go.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe,” Philip said worriedly.

“Your flames can’t harm me,” Penelope said confidently, “I am Penelope the Red, remember?”

Philip took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He closed his eyes and focused on the orb in his chest, willing it to heat up. Quickly, it became red hot. He focused more of his power on it and soon, it turned white. He could feel its heat searing him from within his chest, making his upper body feel like it was on fire.

“Is that as hot as you can make it?” Penelope asked. Philip could not see her, but it sounded like she was straining or concentrating on something.

“I think so,” he replied through gritted teeth. Philip looked at his reflection in the water and found his glowing red eyes disconcerting.

“Good, now release it through your feet,” Penelope ordered, “and only through your feet.”

Philip nodded and swallowed. He focused on the white hot ball in his chest and channelled the heat down towards his feet. He tried to control the flow initially, but quickly lost control and it shot down to his feet like a runaway cart. He began to panic. The runaway power coursed through him like a torrent and it reminded him of how he had felt at Gelt’s Pass. The water at his feet began to bubble rapidly initially, but as he lost control of the flow, the water erupted abruptly, sending scalding hot water cascading down on them.

Philip looked down and saw that the depth of the pool was now half of what it previously was. Any water that touched his legs hissed as it flashed into steam that rose as a dense fog around them. His legs were dangling in the air now and glowing red hot. He tried to cut the flow off from his feet, but he could not resist the torrent that was now flowing out of him.

“Help,” Philip gasped, “I can’t…”

He turned around and looked up to see Penelope with her other arm outstretched to the sky. A gout of flame two yards long blazed from her arm up into the air. Her eyes glowed bright red as she gritted her teeth, and he could faintly feel the flow of heat move out of his body through his shoulder where she had placed her hand.

Philip felt faint as he saw the flames, and Penelope felt him go limp. She uttered a curse and kicked him square in the back. Philip barely had time to register what was going on as he fell six feet through the air before plunging into what little water remained in the pool. The fall and the shock of the ice cold water snapped him out of his panic attack. The water bubbled around him for a moment and then he felt, rather than heard, an explosion after which he was falling again. He fell another foot before landing on the rock base of the pool.

“Are you alright?” Penelope gasped, as she clambered down the rock sides of the now empty pool.

“I think so,” Philip replied as boiling water rained down on them. He closed his eyes and visualized the orb in his chest. It had cooled somewhat, seeming only red hot now.

“Calm your thoughts,” Penelope ordered as she walked over to Philip, “and imagine that you’re sitting in a furnace. Picture that orb within you as a lump of ice that is cooling you down.”

Philip did as he was told and soon began shivering as the orb cooled down.

At length, he looked up at Penelope and grimaced, “maybe you should have started with teaching me that.”

“I wanted to gauge your full power,” Penelope replied, “if I had taught you that technique, you might have backed out halfway.”

She looked around at the now empty pool that was slowly being refilled by the waterfall and shook her head. She then offered Philip her hand and helped back onto his feet. “Are you injured?”

Philip gave himself a once over before replying, “a few bumps and scrapes, but nothing too bad, all things considered.”

“Bear in mind though,” Penelope warned, “the next time you lose your power to that extent, it will take more than thinking cold thoughts to get it under control again.”

He looked at Penelope and noticed that her clothes were intact, and she hadn’t so much as a blister on her despite being splashed by the scalding water.

“How is it that you didn’t lose your clothes?” Philip blurted.

“Disappointed?” Penelope asked with a half-smile.

Philip turned red as he realized what he had said. “No, it’s just…”

He paused as he felt water up to his ankles.

“Let’s gather lunch before it floats away, eh?” Penelope suggested.

Philip looked around and noticed steaming fish scattered around the pool’s floor. He and Penelope hurried to gather as many as they could. A few were blasted into pieces, and many fell apart in his hands. Penelope returned the cloak to him, and he used it to gather fish. They climbed out of the pool with twelve fish that were more or less edible and scraps that added up to another three.

“Not a bad haul, eh?” Penelope grinned.

Philip nodded and they sat down to lunch. The fish was overcooked, but he was famished, and it was one of the best meals he had ever eaten.

“It’s a shame we can’t smoke a few,” Penelope remarked, “the rest will probably keep until dinner. Breakfast if we’re feeling adventurous.”

Philip leaned back against a tree, feeling sated. He then looked over at his teacher and asked, “are you going to teach me how to keep your clothes from burning away next?”

Penelope laughed.

“I’m glad you’re so happy to see me naked, but I find it rather embarrassing myself,” Philip huffed.

“Well, nothing we can do about it for now,” she laughed, “deflecting heat is an advanced skill… it would be like teaching you to walk a tightrope before you’ve learned to walk.”

“Maybe you just like seeing me naked,” Philip sniffed.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself,” Penelope laughed, “you’re still a child to my eyes.”

“I’ll have you know I’m nineteen,” Philip huffed, “I’ve been a man for three years.”

“Yes, yes,” Penelope said, waving her hand, “very good, you’re a very manly man.”

Philip looked away and smouldered.

“Oh don’t pout,” Penelope laughed, “if you are one day able to learn that skill, you will have surpassed my last pupil.”

Philip looked at her in spite of herself. “Frederick?”

Penelope smiled a conspiratorially, “why do you think he’s bald and without eyebrows?”

Philip guffawed despite his anger and Penelope laughed heartily, “he practised so hard,” she said, wiping away tears, “but he would always come crying to me, asking why he couldn’t keep his hair.”

Philip was laughing openly now. He felt guilty but he couldn’t help himself, picturing his master in tears with no eyebrows.

“Do you know that the first time he burned his eyebrows off,” she gasped between fits of laughter, “he locked himself in his room and wouldn’t come out for a week?”

“He always told me that he lost his hair because of his low tolerance to heat,” Philip said when he was finally able to speak.

“That is true,” Penelope said, wiping away a tear, “Frederick was not blessed with an abundance of magical ability.”

“But I thought you said this was a skill,” Philip pointed out.

“He wasn’t particularly adept at the magical arts either,” Penelope replied, “no, that boy was more suited to lead men, but one simply does not turn a pyromancer into a general.”

They rested for a short while before Penelope had them on the way again. They walked for longer today than the day before as Penelope felt more confident navigating through the sparser vegetation at these higher elevations.

“With luck, tomorrow will be our last day in the forests,” Penelope said as they settled in for the night, “the day after, we’ll be in the mountains which will be another good chance for you to attempt regulating your power.”

“I still think you should reapply the seal,” Philip suggested.

“The seal is a crutch,” Penelope said, “the sooner you learn to live without it, the better.”

Penelope got a fire going, and Philip huddled close. He tried to keep it in the periphery of his vision but found it was still unbearable.

“That’s something we’ll have to work on,” Penelope breathed, noting his pale complexion.

They ate some more of the fish before going to bed. Philip tossed and turned, finding himself unable to drift off. He had been plagued by strange dreams of late, and he dreaded falling asleep. He wondered if what had happened at Gelt’s Pass had been discovered yet. The reinforcements were still a few days away. Would the Morovians have returned and found out what happened? Were they already on the plateau when he lost control?