Or are we going to wait for the world to be a better place? Because that just doesn't seem realistic."
"You're going to learn how to channel your anger in ways that aren't flammable." Leaning against a desk, he raises a black brow at me. "Don't try me, Ariana Wolfe. I have time and I have patience. You will learn this—or you won't get what you want. But know that I'm hoping you succeed, not rooting for you to fail. We'll do this together or not at all. Deal?"
Reluctantly, I tell him, "Deal."
What follows is one of the most grueling and difficult two hours of my life. Yohan brings me through a series of exercises, teaching me to breathe and center control of my flames as he tests me in ways I never thought I'd be tested. Sometimes he plays the angry stranger; other times, the annoying younger sibling.
He throws pencils at my head.
Cries and wails.
Insults me creatively.
Gets in my face and stares me down until I grit my teeth and look away.
Really, it would be funny if it weren't so important. I have to get through this—to show him I can control myself no matter how far I'm pushed. Even when he plays pop songs loudly on repeat, tells me my blue hair looks stupid, and snaps bubblegum bubbles an inch away from my face.
"Does that bother you?" At this point he's just trying to enrage me. "Are you irritated, Ari?" Pop goes the bubblegum. "Why don't you make me stop?"
I grit my teeth. Swallow. Breathe deep in through my nose, and out slowly through my mouth. Then hit him with my most charming, I-don't-give-a-shit smile.
"I'm perfectly fine, instructor. In fact, I think you should grab some fresh bubblegum. Maybe something mint flavored. Oh, and put on another annoying song to go with that first one—Never Gonna Give You Up sounds like a good choice. Between that and Baby Shark we'll really have things going."
Instead of accepting that I've come far enough and ending the class, he shoots me a brilliant smile. "Excellent idea, Ms. Wolfe. Let's try both songs at the same time, and instead of bubblegum... I'll sing off key to them and we can discuss your fashion choices."
I'm going to kill him.
Not with my phoenix fire, but with my hands strangling his throat until no sound comes out.
Breathe, Ari. Think of Lizzy. The reminder of her face, sweet and innocent in life and now completely given over to the Heretic's soulless influence, spurs me to keep going. To be stubbornly calm in the face of the most irritating man I've ever met.
I won't fail this last test.
Because her life depends on it.
"Excellent. You've shown great control." I stare up at Yohan from my spot on the floor, watching with relief as he walks the room and turns off every song he's been playing through various speakers. "I'll approve your dispensation to go off-campus."
I sag a little, my meditation chant leaving my mind completely as I let go of the calm, centralized space I found in the middle of his created chaos. "Thank you, Instructor Cheng."
"Before we go, I want to show you one more thing." Yohan leans up against his desk and watches me keenly. "Something only those with very controlled phoenix fire can pull off. A trick I think you'll be able to do very well. Stand up."
Unfolding to my feet, I survey him warily. "What is it? And if it involves another earworm, please spare me."
Yohan chuckles, a soft smile on his mouth. "No, nothing like that. This is a weapon—one those who have mastered full control can summon at will. Observe."
Holding out his right hand, he summons his flames. Then he concentrates, eyes narrowing, fingers trembling. At first I think he's going to create a giant fireball, so I step warily out of the way—but he does something completely unexpected instead.
He makes a sword out of flames.
Reaching into his desk, he pulls out a ball and tosses it in the air with his left hand. With his right he wields the sword. I watch in awe as the blade responds to his motions and desires, lengthening and sweeping out to cut the ball in half before it hits the ground.
Then he does it again. And again. With barely any effort.
By the time he dismisses the flaming sword, I'm impressed—and a little uncertain. I don't think I can do something like that, no matter how much training we've pulled off today.
"Your turn."
I swallow. "Maybe another