For a terrifying moment, everything went still. A void of absolute silence enveloped her and all she could hear was the ringing in her ears that sounded so far away she would have missed it if not for the lack of any other sound. The flames that had surrounded Amara moments ago began to recede, pulling away as if being called back by some unseen force. The heat vanished just as quickly, leaving behind a strange and hollow chill that settled into her skin.

Amara’s arm remained outstretched and her fingers trembled faintly. Her breathing came uneven and shallow, impossible to steady along with her rapidly beating heart. She couldn’t make sense of what had just happened; of what she had just done.

Murmurs began to rise from the crowd that had gathered all around her to witness the phenomenon. The crowd had stopped running and had gathered to stare at her, their earlier panic momentarily forgotten. Their eyes held a dozen emotions. From awe to fear, all of them directed at the young bronze skinned woman standing there in the middle of the crowd.

“I didn’t…” she stammered, her voice shaking you. “I didn’t do anything…”

Even as she spoke those words left her mouth, they didn't sound believable.

She had felt that fire erupt from within her, its embers spreading out like a wildfire that could easily consume everything around her. She had not imagined the feeling of the magic exploding from within her. Even though she could not explain how she had done it, she sure as hell had done something.

A flicker of movement across the clearing drew her attention, and her gaze landed on an unfamiliar dark haired woman who stared at her in awe with hazel eyes wide. The woman took a step closer before taking a pause with a furrowed brow.

Amara’s chest tightened at the sight of her, almost as if she could recognize a friendly face but before she could move or call out, a sharp pain shot through her head. She gasped, bringing a hand to her temple as her vision blurred and her reality began to warp. For a brief moment, she wasn’t standing in Korin anymore. She stood in a lake of fire, the flames shifting color from a cosmic purple to a fiery red.

Her breath caught in her throat. It should have been a terrifying scene but she stood transfixed. It took a moment for her to realize she was not alone. Standing beside her was a radiant woman, a goddess with golden skin and long fiery hair that created a flaming trail behind her. The goddess turned and stared at her with glowing white eyes. She didn't feel afraid, she felt safe and warm.

The world snapped back into place just as quickly as it had changed and the pain returned all at once sharper than before. Amara’s knees gave out beneath her and as the ground rushed up to meet her. The last thing she saw was the dark haired woman breaking through the crowd and running toward her before everything went dark.

Amara felt incredibly drained as she stirred awake. Peeling one eye open, she was met with the bright glare of the morning sun filtering through the narrow gaps in the closed blinds. The light felt too sharp, too present, and she winced, lifting a hand to shield her face as a dull ache settled behind her eyes.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Her body felt heavy, as though she had been asleep for far longer than she should have been. Even breathing felt like effort. The faint scent of something warm and earthy lingered in the air, unfamiliar but oddly grounding.

Where am I?

The thought came slowly, like everything else. She shifted slightly beneath the covers and froze. The fabric was soft, far softer than anything she owned back home in Korin. The mattress beneath her was just as unfamiliar, its feathered softness a luxury she had never been afforded in all twenty-six years of her life. That thought alone was enough to push her further awake.

How did I get here?

She forced herself to sit up, only to immediately regret it. A sharp pain flared at her temple, and she sucked in a breath, pressing her fingers against the spot in an attempt to dull the pain and steady the world around her. Her vision blurred for a moment before settling, though the faint throbbing remained.

As the dizziness began to fade, her eyes slowly scanned her surroundings. The room was modest but carefully arranged. Clean and orderly, with nothing out of place. The four-poster bed she sat on took up most of the space, its dark wooden frame carved with simple patterns she didn’t recognize. A small table rested beside it, along with a single chair positioned neatly against the wall. The curtains were drawn tight, letting in only thin streaks of sunlight.
Everything about the room felt expensive despite its simplicity.

Before she could gather her thoughts, the door creaked open. Amara’s head snapped toward the sound as a familiar young woman stepped inside.

Dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, framing a face that carried an easy, almost reassuring warmth. Her almond-shaped eyes softened as they landed on Amara, and a small smile formed on her lips as she closed the door behind her. It was the same woman she had seen in Korin before she passed out.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good morning, Amara.”

Amara blinked, caught off guard by the familiarity in her tone. The woman crossed the room with quiet ease, holding a tall wooden mug that released thin curls of steam into the air. She placed it gently on the nightstand beside the bed.

“I brought you some cacao,” she continued. “It should help.”

Amara didn’t reach for it. Instead, she watched her carefully.

“I remember you… from the festival. Who are you exactly?” she asked, her voice still rough from sleep. “And where am I?”

The woman paused for a brief moment, as though realizing something she had overlooked. Then she let out a small breath, an almost sheepish smile touching her lips.

“Right. Sorry. I tend to get ahead of myself,” she replied, straightening slightly. “My name’s Darcy. And you’re in Terra City. More specifically, one of the residences near the First Cathedral.”

Amara’s brows knit together.

“The First Cathedral?” she repeated slowly. “As in the Order of the First?”

Darcy nodded. “That’s the one.”

A flicker of unease settled in Amara’s chest.

“How did I get here? Why am I even here?”

Darcy didn’t answer immediately. Tilting her head slightly, she studied Amara’s expression with a neutral look. There was something measured in her gaze now, as if she knew something no one else did.

“Before I answer that,” she said gently, “how much do you remember?”

Amara hesitated. The question stirred something uncomfortable.

“I remember the festival,” she said slowly. “The comet shower… the lanterns…”

Her voice faltered slightly as fragments began to resurface.

“There was an explosion. Fire. People running…” Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, her vision unfocused before she looked back up at Darcy.

“It’s… blurry after that.”

Darcy nodded, as if that was exactly what she had expected.

“You got caught in the chaos,” she said. “People panicked. There was a stampede as everyone scrambled to safety, and you were knocked down.”

Amara’s expression tightened faintly, though she didn’t interrupt.

“I was nearby,” Darcy continued. “I was already in the area on a mission, so I stepped in to help where I could.”

Pausing for a moment, her gaze lingered on Amara just a second longer.

“You didn’t need much help, though.”

Amara frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Darcy’s smile returned, but there was something measured behind it now. She held Amara’s gaze, as though weighing her response against something she already knew.

“What happened to you out there, Amara?”

Amara opened her mouth to answer, but the words didn’t come. Instead, a strange warmth spread through her chest, slow at first, then sharper, like heat threading its way through her veins. Her breath caught as the sensation travelled down her arms and settled in her hands.

She frowned, glancing down. The wooden mug beside her let out a faint, almost inaudible crack. For a second, she thought she had imagined it. But then a thin line split along the rim, spreading just enough to be seen before stopping abruptly. The steam rising from the cacao shifted strangely, curling inward instead of drifting up, as though drawn toward her.

Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.

No…

The warmth pulsed once more before fading just as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only the lingering echo of it beneath her skin. Slowly, she looked back up.

Darcy hadn’t moved. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharper now, fixed not on Amara’s face, but on her hands, then the mug, and back again.

“I…” Amara started, her voice quieter now, edged with something closer to fear. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Darcy didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on Amara. Her expression was thoughtful but she remained quiet without clarifying anything immediately.

The cracked mug didn’t seem to trouble her the way it should have. If anything, it only confirmed something she already believed.

“You’re not in danger,” she said at last, her tone steady. "At least not from what I can tell. Far from it in fact.”

Amara frowned slightly, her unease settling deeper. She had so many questions and, seeing this, Darcy exhaled softly. She braced herself for the conversation that had been inevitable from the start.

“It’s magic,” she said simply. “More specifically… summoning.”

Amara blinked in surprise at this. She tried to determine if what she was hearing was something short of a joke but when Darcy’s expression remained unchanged, she braced herself for what would be said next.

Darcy continued, gesturing faintly as she spoke, as though describing something ordinary.

“In the Order most people who develop abilities like yours are trained to channel them through catalysts. We call these summoning cards. They are tools that help shape what each mage can bring into the world.”

Her eyes flicked briefly to the mug again. That expression alone said a thousand things without her saying a single thing.

“Beasts, constructs, spirits… things that already exist within the system. We don't particularly make anything up. These cards serve as contracts between the summoner and the summoned entity. Once a summon contract is formed it becomes unbreakable; a lifelong spirit bond. So it is very important to choose your summon contract wisely.”

Amara listened, her expression tightening slightly.

“I’ve never had any summon contract before," she said quietly.

A small, knowing smile tugged at Darcy’s lips.

“No,” she admitted. “I suppose not.”

That was the first pause that carried weight.

“What you did out there wasn’t a controlled summoning,” Darcy said. “You didn’t use a card.”

Amara’s chest tightened faintly.

“I didn’t have one,” she muttered.

“That’s the point,” Darcy replied.
Silence settled between them for a moment before Darcy continued in a more controlled tone.

“You didn’t summon a creature bound to a contract. You called something directly and it answered you, it answers now even still…” Darcy said, pointing at the cracked mug. “You called forth something old and ancient and it answered your call. That is not something ordinary, Amara. You are not ordinary.”

Amara’s face paled and she bit her bottom lip to keep from shaking.

“…Is that bad?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

Darcy didn’t answer immediately, not because she was unsure but because she was choosing how to frame it.

“It’s rare,” she said finally. “Very rare. Most mages never encounter anything like it in their entire lives. ”

Her gaze softened slightly as she took Amara's hands into her own.

“And in theory… it shouldn’t happen at all. I've only ever heard one story of someone like you, the very founder of The Order of The First. But until now we have never been able to validate the stories because trust me there are a lot of stories - some definitely made up - about him.”

Amara looked down at her hands again, as if expecting them to explain themselves but nothing changed.

She could almost believe she had been dreaming but she remembered the fire.

The way it had moved.

The way it had answered her desperate plea.

“So what am I?” she asked quietly.

Darcy held her gaze.

“That’s what the Order is going to help you figure out,” she said. “Because right now in all my expertise you’re an anomaly.”