Training with the others meant moving from dawn till dusk with swords, staffs, spears, and knives, pausing to snatch food from the pot at the central fire. Training meant working himself so exhausted he forgot his father's name.
Ciaran saw little of Brenna during the day. At night she made him light all the flames in camp, every torch and fire, pushing his magic in constant bursts until he was sure that one wrong blink would set his tent on fire.
After supper and a drill in the dark, Ciaran could try to sleep.
He always dreamed the world was burning.
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