“Wysaro’s views on this are known to me,” Xilarion said. “But adoption is an ancient practice, one which has allowed clans to survive when they might otherwise have fallen.”
“Weak clans, which should have been allowed to die.”
“Curb your tongue, Hamon, or a master will curb it for you.”
Xilarion didn’t move, and his voice didn’t rise, yet his anger was impossible to mistake. The two men stared at each other, the air tense between them, yet I found myself smirking, enjoying watching arrogant young Hamon get brought down a peg or two.
“I apologize again, master.” Hamon bowed lower than before. “I will remember my place in the future.”
He stepped away from us. As he did so, he shot me a look of pure venom.
Unable to resist, I winked, and saw his fury grow.
“Ethan Murphy lo Pashat,” Xilarion said, drawing my attention back to him. “We recognize the practice of adoption. You may test to enter the Radiant Dragon Guild. In the interests of keeping the peace among my people, you will take that test immediately.”
He stood, jumped down to the floor of the chamber, and strode past us toward the doors, stiff-backed and formal the whole way. Faryn caught eyes with me, and I suspected she was waiting for me to act. I wasn’t certain of her intention, but as I straightened and followed Xilarion, I saw a small smile touch her lips and she trailed behind me. Amid a hubbub of anticipatory whispers, the rest of the room’s occupants followed.
We hurried across the courtyard, an excited crowd growing around us. The guards swung the gates open just in time to let Master Xilarion through, and we went after him, straight toward the pillar of flame, while the guild members spilt out across the plateau.
Xilarion stopped at the very edge of the fire and stood beside it.
“Kneel,” he commanded.
I obeyed, sinking to my knees beside him. The flame pillar bathed me in its head, and I could smell the slight odor of burnt hair. I leaned back a little so that the fire wouldn’t burn me, but its heat remained intense.
“To enter this guild, an initiate must open the pathway of fire.” Xilarion raised his voice for all to hear. “Ethan Murphy lo Pashat will face that challenge.” He lowered his voice. “Do you understand what this involves, Ethan Murphy?”
I nodded, remembering how I had opened the pathway of wood. This would be like my encounter with the dryad, a trial for my spirit self. I focused on my breathing and drew my consciousness toward the world within.
Master Xilarion stretched one arm into the fire, and it did not burn him, though I could feel the heat radiating from it. He placed his other hand on my head.
“Begin.”
I closed my eyes and followed the paths that Tolin had helped me to make, deeper into myself. The world faded away, and I found myself in a place of fire and embers. I stood alone on a plateau, like that in front of the guild house, but the ground was coal, and the sky blazed like the heart of the sun.
The heat wasn’t just around me. It was in me as well. I felt it spreading from the place where Xilarion touched my head. Not just heat but fury swept through my mind, burning away all calm. I leapt to my feet, fists raised, ready to fight.
A figure appeared in front of me. Human-like but made of flames, its body twisted like the heart of a tornado.
All rational thought gone, I leapt straight at it, not fearing the heat. The fire spirit stepped, but I caught it with a glancing blow. My fist hit where the ribs would have been, and the flaming entity staggered back from the strike. The spirit’s fiery body had felt hot, but my skin hadn’t burned.
At least now, I knew that I wouldn’t be risking third-degree burns just by touching it.
Emboldened by this fact, I flung myself wildly at it, the fiery rage inside me taking control. With fists and feet, I pummeled while it did the same to me. We darted and lunged, leapt around each other, whirled and thrashed in a storm of blows.
Within minutes, I felt myself tiring as the fury burned through my energy and left little in reserve. As I stepped back and stood panting, fists raised, I saw that the spirit was still going strong.
I couldn’t win like this. Neither could I resist the urge to attack, to throw all my anger at the spirit, to beat it until there was nothing left. Just holding myself back while I caught my breath took an effort of will.
Through the red heat burning in my brain, an idea came to me. If I could become burned out, surely this creature could too. After all, it was just fire.
I took a step forward and jabbed with my fist. The spirit blocked and then responded with a fresh flurry of blows. I raised my arms to block them while ducking and weaving a little but trying not to move from my spot. I was forcing my opponent to make all the effort and hoped the tactic would pay off before I was beaten into oblivion. I continued dodging and soon realized that my bout with the wood spirit had prepared me for a much faster foe. While the fire spirit was incredibly strong and ferocious, his speed was no match for the wood dryad.
As the blows flashed in, I saw the fire spirit starting to shrink. It was burning through itself to fuel the fight. It was becoming weaker.
The spirit gave up any pretense of fighting tactically and leapt straight at me, all patience exhausted. I ducked, grabbed its arm as it swung over my head, and seized its body with my other hand. I roared and channeled all of my fury into a single movement. My muscles filled with strength as
