Orange light slipped through the tall trees as morning broke. Elara sat on a large stone, gazing at the mist slowly evaporating from the grass. Sylveras stood nearby, stretching his arms and shoulders with casual movements.
"So, I wonder… will this spirit be just as annoying as Mirtogas?" Elara asked as she stood up.
"No idea," Sylveras replied. "Gorion said he's hot-headed and impatient—probably very different."
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the mist. Gorion emerged from the trees, his robe swirling slightly from an unusual heat.
"He's waiting for you," Gorion said flatly. "Be ready."
The three of them continued westward until they reached a barren valley scarred with fiery cracks in the earth. A river of lava flowed through the center, glowing red like molten blood.
Across the river stood a towering figure, his body covered in stone and fire. His eyes glowed yellow, and his hair flowed like streams of magma that dripped endlessly. The heat from his presence made Elara and Sylveras sweat before they even got close.
"I am Yur'Gan," his voice rumbled like a mountain shaking. "Spirit guardian of the deepest blaze in this world."
He looked at them with a bored expression.
"Unlike that old fart Mirtogas, I don't do patience. I don't care who you are."
Gorion gave a polite nod from a distance. "They've come to train."
Yur'Gan spat on the ground, and a burst of smoke rose where the molten liquid touched the earth.
"Fine. Before you can even think about training, you'll prove yourselves. Before you lies the Berna River. If you can cross it without burning alive or sinking, you may face me tomorrow. If you fail…" he yawned loudly, "I go back to sleep for another thousand years."
"No first-day training?" Sylveras raised a brow.
Yur'Gan gave him a sharp glare. "The honor of being trained by me is reserved for those who prove themselves. This is your first trial. No teleportation. No flying."
They tried everything. Normal rocks melted instantly. A protective light barrier only delayed destruction. Sylveras crafted hollow stones, while Elara lined them with heat-absorbing spells. After some trial and error—and a few arguments—they finally made floating stepping stones that could withstand the heat just long enough.
Carefully, step by step, they crossed the lava. Each stone groaned and cracked beneath them but held just enough. As they jumped to the other side, a loud CRACK! echoed—the final stone sank and vanished in a burst of flame.
Panting and drenched in sweat, they collapsed onto the solid ground.
Yur'Gan stared down at them. "Weaklings… but not hopeless. You're worth seeing again tomorrow."
Evening crept in. Elara looked at the still-boiling lava river, worry in her eyes.
"My mana's almost gone," she said quietly. "And we have no way back."
Sylveras swallowed hard. "Yur'Gan… can you help us cross back? Our magic's nearly drained, and it's getting dark."
Yur'Gan stared at them long and hard—then scowled.
"Just because you're here doesn't mean you can order me around!" he snapped. "Just because you're maybe my pupils doesn't mean I'll be nice to you! Useless brats!"
Elara kept a straight face. "Oh. Okay. Sorry."
"ARGHH!!" Yur'Gan groaned in frustration—then grinned smugly. "Fine. Behold my glory, pitiful children!"
He raised his arms. The lava began to change color—shifting from red-hot to dark gray. Within seconds, the river cooled into solid, walkable ground.
"See? Incredible, right? You were out there fussing with tiny rocks—pfft!"
Sylveras and Elara responded with blank stares.
"…I don't think he's a pervert, but he's definitely full of himself," Sylveras muttered under his breath.
"I HEARD THAT!" Yur'Gan roared, hurling a small flaming rock at him.
TONK!"Ow! My head!"
Elara burst into laughter. "That hit you right in the forehead!"
"Hurry up and go back. Gorion's waiting. Tomorrow is the real training!" Yur'Gan bellowed with a smug smirk.
Sylveras groaned but activated a simple earth spell to form a bridge over the now-hardened lava. He and Elara crossed quickly. The moment their feet touched the far bank—
SSSHHHZZT!! The lava surged back to life, glowing red and molten again.
"Whoa! If we were even a second slower—" Sylveras gasped.
"We'd be roasted," Elara replied, deadpan. "
"Oops. Forgot to mention—my cold lava only lasts five minutes," Yur'Gan called out from across the river.
"…He's not just hot-headed. He's stupid too," Sylveras grumbled.
"Yeah. Seems like it," Elara nodded.
With a final wave from Yur'Gan, they headed back toward Gorion's home, returning to their usual nighttime routine—sore, tired, and mildly scorched, but with a spark of anticipation for tomorrow.