I told you she could do it

The flames danced in my hands, wild and untamed, flickering like they had a mind of their own. I clenched my fists, forcing them to stay put, to listen to me for once.

Sweat dripped down my forehead as I focused harder than I ever had before. I could feel the heat pulsing through my palms, but the shape I was trying to mold wouldn't hold.

"Focus!" Valeria's voice cut through the air like a whip. She stood off to the side, her arms crossed and her usual smirk replaced with a sharp, calculating gaze.

"I am focusing!" I snapped, glaring at her for a split second before turning back to the mess of flames that refused to cooperate.

"You call this focusing? You look like a rabbit about to faint," she retorted.

Carlos chuckled from his spot on a nearby rock, reclining like he was watching a play. "She's not wrong. You're too tense. You're trying to bend the fire to your will instead of working with it."

"Easy for you to say!" I gritted my teeth, the flames flaring up in response to my frustration. "You're not the one trying to keep this inferno from exploding in your face."

Carlos shrugged lazily. "That's fair. But you'll never get it if you keep forcing it. Magic isn't just about power; it's about harmony."

Harmony. Right. Like I could be harmonious with something that wanted to burn everything in sight.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. My shoulders relaxed, and I tried to picture the dagger in my mind again the sleek blade, the sharp edge, the hilt that fit perfectly in my hand.

The flames responded, flickering and twisting into a crude shape. For a brief moment, it almost looked like a dagger, but then it wavered and collapsed back into a shapeless mass of fire.

"Better," Carlos said, though his tone was far from impressed.

"Better? That was pathetic," Valeria said bluntly. "Try again."

I shot her a look, but I didn't argue. I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing me give up.

The hours stretched on, each failed attempt weighing on me like a mountain. My arms ached, my head throbbed, and my patience wore thinner with every flicker of uncontrolled fire.

At one point, I threw my hands up in frustration, the flames dissipating into the air. "This is impossible! You're asking me to do something that takes years of training in, what, a week?"

Valeria raised an eyebrow. "You're not just anyone, Ren. You've got potential. Stop whining and prove me right."

Carlos, ever the voice of lazy encouragement, added, "She's not wrong. If you didn't have what it takes, you wouldn't have survived this long. Now, less complaining, more trying."

I groaned but forced myself to start again.

This time, I closed my eyes and tried to shut out everything the pain in my body, the snide remarks, the lingering doubt that whispered in the back of my mind.

I focused only on the fire in my hands and the image of the weapon I wanted to create.

I felt the flames shift, their chaotic energy softening, bending. It was like trying to coax a wild animal into trusting you slow, careful, deliberate.

When I opened my eyes, a blade of fire hovered in my hand. It wasn't perfect far from it but it was there.

"Finally," Valeria said, her tone almost bored. "Now make it better."

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to throw the blade at her. Instead, I concentrated on refining it, smoothing the edges, sharpening the tip. The fire obeyed, reluctantly at first, but then with more fluidity.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I had managed to create a proper dagger. It flickered in my hand, glowing with a fierce, fiery light.

Carlos whistled. "Not bad. Took you long enough."

I glared at him but couldn't stop the small smile that crept onto my face. I did it. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.

"Good," Valeria said, her eyes narrowing. "Now do it again. And this time, try something bigger."

Bigger? She had to be joking.

But, of course, she wasn't.

The next few days were a blur of training, mistakes, and gradual improvement. I moved from daggers to swords, then to bows and arrows. Each new weapon felt like climbing a mountain, but each success felt like reaching the summit.

The turning point came on a clear morning, the kind where the sky seemed impossibly blue, and the air hummed with quiet energy.

I stood in the clearing, flames flickering in my hands. Valeria watched from her usual spot, her expression unreadable, while Carlos lounged nearby, pretending not to be invested.

This time, I didn't close my eyes. I stared at the fire, willing it to obey.

The flames twisted and coiled, stretching into a long, elegant blade. It glowed brightly, the edges sharp and precise.

I swung it experimentally, feeling the weight or lack thereof in my hand. It wasn't just a weapon; it was an extension of me.

Valeria's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, I thought I saw a flicker of approval. "Not bad," she said, her tone begrudging.

Carlos grinned. "See? I told you she could do it."

I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. I had done it. I had mastered it.

But as I looked at the blade in my hand, I knew this was only the beginning. There was so much more to learn, so much further to go.

And for the first time, I felt ready.