Listen, when the Scorched Nomads raid your caravan, you’ve got two options: die fighting or die running. At least, that’s what everyone thought until Reyna figured out option three: steal their fire.
Yeah. Steal. Their. Fire.
Picture this: Usual raid on a Tempest Isles merchant ship crossing the Burnt Wastes. Nomads riding in on those smoke-trailing horses they’re famous for, whooping war cries, flinging fire like party favors. Real traditional stuff.
Except Reyna’s there with her new trick.
She’s standing at the helm of the Wavechaser, looking like any other Tempest Isles defender – dark skin weathered by salt spray, hair braided tight with trader’s beads, water mage birthmark curling around her neck like a tattoo. Nothing special.
Until she catches the first fireball.
Not blocks it. Not douses it. Catches it. Like grabbing a handful of water. The nomad who threw it nearly falls off his horse.
See, Reyna figured something out during those long nights studying trade routes through the Burnt Wastes. Fire magic isn’t just about heat and destruction. It’s energy. Movement. Life. And if water can flow both ways…
Well.
The raid goes from “routine pillaging” to “holy shit” real quick. Every blast of fire the nomads throw? She catches, spins, and sends right back. Not as water – as fire. Their fire. The very magic that’s supposed to make the Scorched Nomads unstoppable in their own territory.
But here’s where it gets interesting. Because among the raiders is this young warrior named Ash (yeah, I know, real original name for a fire mage). And while everyone else is freaking out about their magic getting turned against them, Ash is watching Reyna with the kind of intense focus that means either murder or marriage is coming.
Turns out, it’s neither.
“Teach me,” he says, jumping onto the ship deck while his fellow raiders retreat. His flame-spark birthmark is practically strobing across his face. “Teach me how you understand fire like that.”
And Reyna, who’s been waiting her whole life for someone to ask that question, grins.
Two weeks later, the Cinderhold Empire gets reports that someone’s teaching Scorched Nomads how to manipulate water magic. The Maralyd Abyssal Cities hear whispers about fire mages learning water techniques. Everyone’s pointing fingers, preparing for war, building up defenses.
Nobody notices that the real story isn’t about fire mages learning water magic or water mages stealing fire.
It’s about the walls between elements starting to break down.
In a hidden canyon somewhere in the Burnt Wastes, Reyna’s teaching a growing group of nomads and merchants something revolutionary: every element is just a different dance of the same energy. And if you listen closely enough, feel deeply enough, you can learn to dance with all of them.
Their birthmarks are changing, spreading in patterns nobody’s seen before. Well, almost nobody. A certain scout in the Fangrock Clans might recognize those swirls. A particular artificer in Maralyd definitely would.
The really fun part? The Cinderhold Empire’s about to send their best investigator to figure out what’s going on with these “element thieves.”
Poor bastard has no idea they’re actually element dancers.
And the dance? It’s just getting started.