Eleanor's eyes burned. She'd spent the night staring at the ceiling, watching shadows crawl across the plaster until dawn. Every muscle screamed from yesterday's training, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in her chest.
Her parents were gone. Forever.
And Meredith? The water angel acted like Eleanor was just another student to break down and rebuild.
The smell of fried eggs drifted through the house. Eleanor's stomach growled despite everything. She dragged herself out of bed, wings stiff and sore, and stumbled toward the kitchen.
Meredith sat at the small wooden table, steam rising from her tea cup. She didn't look up when Eleanor entered.
"You're late."
Eleanor squinted at the window. The sun had barely crested the horizon. "It's not even seven—"
"I've been awake since five." Meredith pushed a plate across the table. "Eat. Today won't be easy."
Eleanor slumped into her chair and picked at the eggs. They tasted like cardboard, but she forced them down. Meredith watched her with cold blue eyes, like studying a bug under glass.
"Your parents told you about your bloodline," Meredith said suddenly.
Eleanor nodded. "Sun powers. But they never showed up."
"Divine abilities don't surface on their own. Especially not diluted bloodlines like yours." Meredith stood and walked to the window. "Your body doesn't know what it's capable of. We have to teach it."
"How?"
"Pain."
Eleanor's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"Get dressed. Meet me outside in five minutes."
The backyard stretched out like a golden sea. Tall grass swayed in the morning breeze. Overhead, the sun hung like a burning eye.
Meredith pointed to the center of the field. "Stand there."
Eleanor walked to the spot, her boots crunching on dry grass. "Now what?"
"Now you wait."
"For what?"
"For your power to wake up." Meredith crossed her arms. "Don't move. Don't sit. Don't give up. When you feel something change, hold onto it."
Eleanor shifted her weight. "That's it? Just stand here?"
"If you move before I say so, we start over tomorrow. At dawn."
The way Meredith said it made Eleanor's skin crawl. She planted her feet and gripped her axe tighter.
Minutes ticked by. The sun climbed higher, beating down on Eleanor's shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her wings felt heavy, drooping under the heat.
An hour passed. Then two.
Her legs began to shake. Her vision blurred. The axe felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.
Then something flickered.
A golden shimmer ran along the axe blade, so quick she almost missed it.
Eleanor's heart jumped. "Did you see—"
But when she looked toward the house, Meredith was gone. The back door hung open, swaying in the breeze.
"Great," Eleanor muttered.
The sun reached its peak. Eleanor's shirt clung to her back, soaked. Her knees trembled. Her mouth felt like sandpaper.
The axe pulsed again—stronger this time. Light danced across the metal, and Eleanor felt something stir deep in her chest. Like a flame trying to catch.
She focused on the feeling, willing it to grow.
The air around her began to shimmer.
A shadow fell across the grass.
Eleanor looked up, expecting a cloud. Instead, she saw wings. Black wings, cutting through the sky like knives.
Her blood turned to ice.
The figure dropped into the field twenty feet away. He was tall and lean, with skin pale as bone and eyes like burning coals. His smile showed too many teeth.
"Well, well," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "A little angel, all alone."
Eleanor raised her axe with shaking arms. "Stay back."
The Black Angel laughed. "Oh, I can smell it on you. Divine blood. Fresh and untapped." He flexed his claws. "I haven't had a proper meal in weeks."
He moved like lightning.
Eleanor threw herself sideways, hitting the ground hard. The Black Angel's claws whistled through the air where her head had been.
She rolled, came up swinging. The axe blade caught sunlight but nothing else. Her opponent danced away, still grinning.
"Too slow, little spark."
Eleanor's legs felt like jelly. Hours of standing in the heat had drained her. The axe weighed a ton.
The Black Angel lunged again. This time, his claws raked across her shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin. Blood welled up, hot and red.
Eleanor cried out and stumbled backward. The Black Angel's smile widened.
"There it is," he whispered. "Fear. Pain. That's what brings out the good stuff."
He raised his claws for the killing blow.
Eleanor's mind went blank with terror. She thought of her parents, of their faces in the flames. She thought of Meredith's cold eyes and empty promises. She thought of dying here, alone, in this stupid field.
And something inside her snapped.
Heat flooded her veins. Her skin began to glow, soft at first, then brighter. The axe in her hands burst into golden flame.
The Black Angel's eyes went wide. "Impossible. You're just a—"
Eleanor swung with everything she had.
The flaming axe carved through the air like a shooting star. It hit the Black Angel in the chest, and he screamed as golden fire erupted from the wound. The flames spread across his body, consuming him from the inside out.
In seconds, he was nothing but ash on the wind.
Eleanor dropped to her knees, gasping. The glow around her flickered and died. The axe clattered to the ground, normal metal once again.
"Not bad."
Eleanor spun around. Meredith stood at the edge of the field, her expression unreadable.
"You... you were watching the whole time?" Eleanor's voice cracked with exhaustion and fury.
"Of course." Meredith walked over and nudged the pile of ash with her boot. "You think I'd leave you alone with Black Angels in the area?"
"I could have died!"
"But you didn't." Meredith studied Eleanor's face. "Your power finally surfaced. Crude, uncontrolled, but real. That was actual Sunfire."
Eleanor struggled to her feet. Her legs shook, but she stayed upright. "So what now?"
"Now we do it again. Tomorrow. And the day after that." Meredith turned toward the house. "Until you can call that fire whenever you need it."
Eleanor watched her go, then looked down at her hands. They looked normal now, but she could still feel the echo of that burning power deep in her bones.
For the first time since her parents died, she felt something other than grief.
She felt dangerous.