Reverie took it back. Jedediah, in fact, was not a piece of shit.

Micah had pulled a few strings to clear his schedule for the following weeks, for the old man was always a sought out trainer. Firstborns of Analide's royal bloodline never really appeared with other powers, so she was never meant to be trained. But, well, here she was.

Revy was made to wear a special suit. The material felt sturdy and rubbery. She frowned, Amber chiding her to just put it on. And when she did, it was snug around... everything. There was barely nothing hidden.

Alright.

She was escorted towards the training hall, usually reserved for sparring and soldiers. The walls were stone and there was no royal extravagance here. There was a sudden practicality to the training room that you couldn't find elsewhere in the castle with its sturdily crafted armory, sparring ring, target practice, and special, enclosed room to practice magic. All for necessity.

But today the hall was eerily empty, and her boots echoed around hollowly. All that was there was Jedediah by enclosed room, seated comfortably on a chair. He waved her in, smiling.

"Just in time," he said cheerfully. When he smiled there were wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. His hair was receding and it looked like his knees ached. He looked as he was, an old, ancient man who had seen many wars and political disputes—here to train her. And it was strange for him to see him like this, so different from his students.

Joyous. Cheerful. Relaxed with a plant-inclined magic in his blood, and wherever he went flowers trailed him. He proved that now, and the stone-walled training room smelt like summer.

He also had very bright, keen, intimidating eyes. So there was that.

"You may go," he said to Zacchaeus who had positioned himself by the door. Apparently, her amazing oh-so-responsible captain didn't have anything else to do. "It's alright."

Revy frowned. "Surely, we'll need a water-inclined guard, yes?"

"Do you not trust yourself?" he asked. He waved at Zacchaeus, making a kind gesture of shoo!

"Well," Revy walked towards him, studying him. "I can't say I've been the best with this fire shit."

Jedediah laughed at her. "You really do have such a distasteful vocabulary."

"What?"

"Tell Jaeson I said hello," he called to Zacchaeus before he shut the door. "Jaeson is my grandson," he said to her conversationally. "He's a loyal fellow, don't you think?"

"Jaeson? My second in command?"

"Yes," he said. "Such a handsome boy!"

"I don't like boys."

"I figured," Jedediah said. "Although, I know you aren't blind. He's very handsome." He gestured to the chair in front of him. "Sit, Reverie."

She felt herself frown. Confused. "... Excuse me?"

"Or would you prefer your other titles?" He talked in that same, playful tone like they were discussing what they'd like for lunch. "Cursed Queen, Bitch from Hell, and lots of other things your father calls you," he said.

There are only a few times and rare moments when Revy is shocked. And this time was one of those instants, as she just... stared at him, a baffled expression on her face.

He sighed. "Sit, Reverie."

Despite herself, Revy flushed. "What?" she said again.

"Alright. I thought you might like a chair."

Her frown deepened. "I'm sorry, but... what are we doing?"

"I'm asking you to sit, and I'm asking you what titles of yours do your favour. There have been quite a lot. One of the papers said you were a Nightmarish Queen and Betrayer of Stars!" he chuckled to himself.

Revy inhaled through the nose, and exhaled slowly through the mouth. "What," she said again, "are we doing?"

"Training." Jedediah was just too comfortable for that matter. Relaxed. Humming happily and just observing her with that same, keen expression. It made her uncomfortable.

"I didn't think training was supposed to be infuriating." Revy sat down slowly, not taking off her eyes from Jedediah, back straight and rigid. Was this really the famed trainer of the greatest warriors on the battlefield? This man who was teasing her because of the mess she's made for her coronation? Uncanny.

"I'm testing our boundaries." Jedediah only smiled at her and folded his hands on his lap. "Back to the question. What is your favorite title, Reverie? You are known for many, many, many things. I'm sure you are aware of that."

She scowled. "Are mocking me?"

"Of course I am." That made her want to leave. "Your guards tell me you joke with them."

"Yes, because they are my men." She frowned. "Did you interview them?"

Jedediah ignored her, but nodded. "Interesting."

She stared at him. Again.

"Hmmm, not much of a pleasant talker, are you? Because I'll tell you what I prefer."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm betting it's the Nightmarish Bitch from Hell with the fire hands."

Jedediah laughed. "Not quite. Nothing else is as cleverly coined and beautiful as Queen Reverie of the masses, wouldn't you agree?"

She picked at her nails.

"Tell me, Reverie," he was more relaxed in his chair, his smile still lazy but his eyes even sharper. "Do you like that title, too?"

"Yes," Revy said. She looked down at her hands. "I love that title."

"I, and countless of other people have been wondering, why did you stop?" His smile had disappeared. Instead, he was looking at her like the scholar everyone knew he was. Smart. Observant.

It made her gulp. "Stop? For the child?"

"Yes."

Revy shrugged. "Because... it felt like the right thing to do."

Silence.

Revy just stared at her hands or at her boots, crossed her legs. She waited for Jedediah to say something. Now she felt like a student, beginning to understand why their first interaction was quite strange.

He had the upper hand in this training room.

It made her nervous

"Revy, let me tell you something." Jedediah had seated better in his chair, to look at her better. It was fascinating how he went from happy, cheerful old man to a very wise one. The shift was making her even more confused and intrigued.

"What is it?"

"I have trained your father once," he said, "and the generations before him. I have seen a lot of strong, brave men and women turn into vile creatures."

She looked him in the eyes.

"Power ruins you." Jedediah said it as careful fact, but the words drew out a shudder from her. "It will destroy who you are, who you love, and everything you stand for if you are not careful."

"I know."

"Do you?" he sighed.

Revy licked her lips.

"Your father was an ambitious young man," he said. She tensed, her shoulders squaring themselves. "Just like you, whether you would like to believe it or not. Always had the drive, the grit, he was always meant to be an ideal King."

Revy's heart dropped.

"I'm sure you and I both know what happened to that beautiful, promising young man." Jedediah grimaced. "Do you?"

She didn't answer.

"Do you, Reverie?"

"Yes," and then, "I know."

He nodded, a quick jerk of the head. "Power ruins you," he said again. "Only if you will let it. Contrary to popular belief, dear Queen of the masses, I am here to teach you control of your magic. Discipline and strength must come as one, must hold each other's hand, or else you... fall."

They stared at each other.

"Do you understand this?"

Breathless, Revy swallowed. "Yes," she said thickly.

He pointed a finger at her, nodding his head. "I believe in you, Queen Reverie of the masses. I believe in you with all my heart, I believe that no other Prince or Princess has ever turned out to be like you." He frowned. "But to be a true ruler, you must exercise control of the mind and the heart." He touched his chest.

She nodded.

"And that is what I am here to help you with. Control, consciousness, and staying grounded." He sighed heavily. "Most have forgotten that last part."

Revy nodded again.

Silence. Again. She looked at her nails—bitten to the nub and the careful, beautiful paintings of stars gone. Ruined.

"Let's take Micah, for example," Jedediah said suddenly. "Are you and him equal?" Jedediah asked suddenly.

Revy frowned. She looked at him again, infuriating sky blue eyes that have seen too much and known too much. His eyes were very rare in Analide. It made Revy think of the seas this man might have crossed to get here. "Your questions make me uncomfortable."

"They're supposed to." Jedediah spread his hands again, in that strange fluid grace. He cleared his throat. "Are you and Micah equal?"

"I really don't think—"

"Really, Queen of the masses, we won't be getting anywhere if you do not answer."

She sighed.

Jedediah smiled.

"No," she said finally, after some time.

"Why?"

"My magic is stronger."

"Why do you think so?" He tilted his head to the right. Revy felt her thumb bleed.

She hesitated. "Are there any right answers?"

He shrugged.

"I can use my magic more," she said.

"How?"

Revy thought of it out loud. "Because you can't use the sun too much, can you? It isn't a practical type of power. With all of that might you carry, you can only really destroy the world or don't."

Jedediah nodded, and a tiny smile began to creep its way back to his face. "Can you destroy the world, Reverie?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Yes," she said. "I could burn it."

"Correct," Jedediah said. "So are you saying that you have the choice to... decide with your magic? Decide its destruction?"

She nodded.

"You have more control?"

"Yes. That's how I see it." She pursed her lips. "You can't really decide which part of the sun you can send hurtling into the atmosphere and not have it be catastrophic."

Jedediah seemed to be studying her properly now. "Do you want to destroy the world?"

Revy shook her head. "Of course not."

"Hmmm, yes. Another title the people have called you is world-changer," he mused. "Would you like to change the world?"

"Yes." Revy sat straighter in her chair. "For the better."

"How will you begin to change the world?"

"By becoming Queen."

"So, how will you do that now?"

She fell quiet.

He chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you that it has, and always will be, two very different things to be a Queen, and to be called a Queen?"

Revy stared.

"Yes, you will still be able to change the world, Reverie. But back to my questions. Why are your abilities stronger? You said it was more practical. You said with Micah, it was that he destroyed the world or didn't. And then you said you wanted to change the world." He was looking at her expectantly. "So. What makes you stronger? Better?"

Revy swallowed. "I can..." she trailed off. "I can... uh, well..."

Blank.

Jedediah ony watched her patiently, never taking his eyes off her as she thought about it. What could she do? And what did her abilities have to do with all of this? Her strange, foreign, fire magic? Yes, she could destroy the world, but... but...

"I don't know."

"Perhaps you are still stuck thinking about where the origin of your magic comes from," he said, "and not its purpose."

She tilted her head. "Purpose? There is purpose for magic?"

Jedediah spread his hands. "It is a shallow, common belief that magic relies on bloodline alone. I don't believe that."

Revy sighed. "You seem to know the answer," she offered. "Would you mind telling me?"

His eyes gleamed. Jedediah had strange eyes for a man of Analide—he had the blue of a western kingdom. "But where would the earning be in that?"

"You're annoying."

"So they say."

And then he stood, holding the chair for support. His knees buckled. "Watch this, Reverie." He beckoned her close, outstretching his hand. She peered at it, watching in mute fascination as small, delicate flowers began to bloom on his hand. "I want you to do this."

"Flowers?" she asked. "I can't exactly do that."

"Humor me." The flowers were arching, growing, rising and creeping on his hand. Yellow, orange, and white. "Do it with your fire. Start small."

"You're really milking the Queen of the masses thing," she muttered. "And there isn't exactly an on switch for it."

"I figured," Jedediah shrugged. "Focus."

"On?"

"When they said you'd be a difficult student, I gave myself the benefit of the doubt."

"Thank you?"

He sighed heavily, sat back down. "Focus on the magic inside you. What triggers it? What does it respond to? When did you first feel it?"

"I don't know. The stars?"

"Alright," he said. Revy was impressed by his unwavering patience. "Yet, what about all the other incidents?"

She frowned. "I was hurt."

Jedediah rolled his eyes at her. The three flowers were now fully bloomed on his hand—the exact same ones little Reverie weaved together for her coronation. "Do I really have to whak you on the head, Reverie?"

"I imagine it's tempting." But she laughed, despite herself. And after a few moments he joined her.

Easy, gentle laughter.

"Focus, Reverie," he coaxed. "Focus."

Hurt.

She closed her eyes.

"Feel your pain," Jedediah said in that same, coaxing tone. "Your angry, relentless pain. Feel it. If that is what your magic responds to—feel it."

Revy didn't like feelings things. But she did as she was told, reluctantly.

She remembered the feeling of loss, just last night—the hopelessness and fear of what was to come. The hurt of failure, the hurt of having everything she has worked towards be gone in a flash. And then they all started adding up. The stars being ripped away, her father beating her, Micah proclaimed new heir to the throne, the loss of her mother, the aching, hollow horror—

Her throat clogged up.

She bit down on her tongue.

And slowly, she felt it. It was simmering heat, alive and burning in the pit of who she was. It felt strange, not in the same, otherworldly hum of the stars. But alive. Different. A different sort of magic, not ancient and yet...

"This feels like mine," Revy murmured. She was basking in it.

"Your magic?"

"Yes." She flexed her fingers. Now that her power had come alive, had responded to her—it was easier. She willed it, or maybe it cooperated, to gather at the tips of her fingers, travelling to her palm. She felt the rush of it in her veins. "This feels like mine."

"That's it. What do you mean?"

"The stars didn't feel like this." Revy could see it in her now. This living, breathing wildfire that thrummed and beat to her heart—the very furnace of it.

"What did the stars feel like?" Jedediah asked.

"Like otherworldly, powerful energy." Revy could feel her palm heat. She was in control.

"What does... this feel like?"

"This feels like it's been... lingering?" She moved her fingers, opened her eyes to see the fire racing across her fingertips, gathering in her hand, joyous, laughing flames. She gulped. "I don't know."

"Are you scared?"

"A bit," she admitted.

She glanced at him. Jedediah nodded at her, a pleased look on his face. "Now... put it back. Keep it back."

"What?"

"Your magic... put it back inside of you. It is a part of you."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "But what if—"

Fire grew brighter. Her heart sped up.

"Reverie. It responds to you."

"I know. I can't—"

"Control."

She nodded, desperate, as the fire was racing up her arms again. But it didn't burn away her clothes this time. It was spreading, spreading, engulfing her.

"Reverie. Control."

She nodded again.

Control.

Reel it in.

And gently, her fists clenched, Revy reached for that power in her arms. It was trashing because she was scared... Was it trying to protect her?

She breathed in and out to calm herself, falling in that same, deep breathing she was used to. Control.

She felt the magic gathered at her arms, simmering, spreading to protect. And she reeled it in. Tugged. Entranced, she watched the flames extinguish on their own, one by one. Disappearing, leaving smoke behind.

Reel it in.

Returning to the furnace inside of her.

Inside of her.

"This is my magic," she said slowly. "My magic."

Jedediah smiled.

And that seemed to say, Good job for today, Reverie.

--

i updated this a day late... oops!!!!! sorry!!! but heres a pretty long almost 3k word chapter. im so excited to show you guys chapter nine !!!!!!!!!!! im really happy with it!!!!!!!

i would also like to thank you guys for the support you have shown so far <33

u are all so touching and it means the world to me!!

leave a vote for revy's pew pew pew fire magic. and some feedback, loves!

- yannah :>