Tides of Fire

Chapter 9 - Jack POV

The weight of her words stuck with me longer than I wanted to admit.

It was the last class of the afternoon, but I wasn't listening to a damn thing. My mind had been spinning since lunch, replaying that moment over and over like some cursed reel I couldn’t shut off. The way she looked at me before she walked away—disappointed, like she’d seen the worst part of me and decided it wasn’t worth sticking around.

And maybe she was right.

Who throws a confession back in someone’s face? Worse, who does it knowing everyone’s watching?

Me, apparently.

I never cared about that Water girl. That’s what I told myself, what I told everyone. That was the story. But when Carla spat those words at me—don’t you remember the time you threw the letter in the face of the girl who had offered it to you?—it hit like fire to dry grass.

Gods, I remembered.

And now I couldn’t stop wondering if Carla saw me as that guy too.

I tapped my fingers on the desk, letting the rhythm distract me, but it didn’t work. Should I go talk to her? Apologize? Or maybe give her time? Let her cool off, wait a day or two? Hell, maybe I should just let it go. Let the whole thing burn and settle in ashes. That's what I usually did.

But this wasn’t usual.

She wasn’t usual.

~~

The last hour of class was a blur.

I sat at my desk, half-listening to Professor Iswen drone on about elemental ethics, but all I could think about was Carla. The look on her face when she walked away from me earlier—that flash of disappointment, of betrayal—was burned into my mind.

"I thought you didn't care about the Water girls," she'd said, and damn, it stung. It stung because it wasn't true. Or maybe it used to be, before her. Before Carla Aquallis tilted my world on its axis.

I slouched lower in my chair and pressed my knuckles to my lips, biting back the flood of emotions I didn’t have the training to name. Ashamed. That's what I was. Ashamed that she'd seen that part of me, the one I’d tried to bury beneath swagger and heat. The part that flinched when she called me out.

What was I supposed to do now? Give her space and wait for things to cool down? Go after her the second class ended? Or just let it all fizzle out and pretend like none of it mattered?

No. That wasn’t an option. I’d done that too many times already—with people, with things that scared me. I always played it cool, played it safe. Let things go instead of fighting for them. But this—Carla—this wasn't something I was willing to lose.

I sighed, my fist loosening. I’d apologize tomorrow. Let her cool off tonight. Give her time to breathe, and then I’d find the right words.

If they existed.

When the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, we were all escorted to the Atrium of Binding—a vast, echoing hall at the heart of Solstice Hall—where our room assignments would be announced.

"Jack Ember," Professor Ilyra called.

I jerked my head up. We were already at the end of class. She was standing at the front of the podium with a neat stack of keys and parchment slips, reading names off a list. I rose when she called again.

"Room fourteen," she said, handing me a key.

Next to her stood Leon, grinning like the smug bastard he was.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Of all the people they could've paired me with, it had to be Leon Flameborn. Great.

Carla’s name was called last. Room fifteen. With someone named Elena. I couldn’t help the twist of jealousy in my chest. At least she didn’t have to deal with someone like Leon.

---

That evening, I went home. Home—a house carved from polished obsidian, steeped in warmth and tradition, the air always scented faintly with smoke and spice. Ember Hall.

We ate dinner together that night, or at least we sat at the same table. Conversation was minimal. My father barely looked up from his council scrolls. My mother served roast pheasant and reminded me—twice—to make a strong impression. Pyra picked at her food, smirking every time our eyes met. Afterward, I retreated to my room and lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Sleep found me eventually.

The next morning, sunlight crept in through the high windows. I got up, washed, and dressed in silence. At breakfast, my father was already buried in documents. My mother kissed my temple and told me to be a good representative of our house. Pyra leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, looking far too amused for so early in the day.

After eating, I headed upstairs, packed my things—clothes, books, and a few small trinkets that had somehow survived our childhood bickering—then stood for a long moment at the top of the stairs. No one said much when I left. Just a stiff wave from my father, another kiss from my mother, and a teasing, “Don’t burn down the dorms,” from Pyra. Then I was out the door, on my way back to Solstice Hall.

____

I arrived at the dormitory wing just past nine. Room 14 was on the second floor, east wing. The corridor smelled new—like varnished wood and fresh linen. Our room wasn’t terrible. Two beds, two desks, two chests of drawers. Mine by the window.

I dropped my bag and got to work, setting up my part quickly. Folded clothes. Books lined neatly. The Ember crest above my pillow. Just as I was placing my last item, the door creaked open.

Leon strolled in like he owned the place.

"So," he drawled, tossing his duffel onto his bed without care. "We meet again, Mr. Protector."

I didn’t look at him. "Save your breath. I’m not here to bond."

He laughed, loud and grating. "Still mad I was about to charm your little water girl yesterday?"

My jaw clenched. "Back off, Leon."

He threw himself onto his bed. "Relax. I’m not going to touch your precious Aquallis. She’s not my type anyway. Too... proper."

I ignored him. I needed air.

I slipped out, headed for Room 15. Carla’s door was slightly ajar. I knocked.

"Come in," a voice called—soft, feminine, unfamiliar.

Inside, the room was already warm with personality. Soft blue drapes, a small stack of sea glass on the desk, and a gentle scent of salt and lavender. Elena was sitting on her bed, brushing her hair.

"You must be Jack," she said, smiling. "If you're looking for Carla, she just stepped out to the cafeteria—wanted something sweet, I think."

"Thanks," I said. She motioned to the chair at the desk, but I shook my head. "I’ll find her."

The cafeteria was half-full. I spotted Carla easily—she always seemed to shine in a crowd, even when she wasn’t trying. She was sitting with Lysa, laughing at something.

I stopped. Something about the sound caught me in the chest. I turned away. I didn’t mean to disturb anyway.

Back in our room, Leon was still unpacking. The place looked like a battlefield already.

"You better not leave your mess on the ground," I said, walking past him.

"Oh, monsieur thinks he’s superior and allows himself to give orders now?"

I turned. "I’m not your friend, Leon. I don’t want to live in your garbage heap. Show some basic respect."

He scoffed. "Respect? That what they teach in Ember Hall these days? Or is that just your last name talking again—Ember this, Ember that. Think you’re better than the rest of us just because you’re the golden boy of fire?"

"I don’t need to think it," I said . "But I didn’t come here to rub my name in anyone’s face. Just don’t test me."

"Too late," he muttered.

Then, he added, grinning, "Wonder what Carla sees in you anyway. Seems like she’s the type who likes being saved. You gonna keep playing the hero, Jack?"

That was it.

I lunged. My fist met his jaw. He reeled back, snarling, then tackled me.

We crashed into the desks, upending chairs. Books scattered. I shoved him back, landed a hit to his ribs. He swung at me, clipped my shoulder.

Students were at the door now, some shouting, some cheering.

Then came a voice.

"ENOUGH!"

A booming presence filled the room. Mr. Darion Thorne, the dormitory warden—ex-Earthstone commander, broad as a mountain, beard like a thicket—marched in.

He yanked us apart as if we were misbehaving toddlers.

"What in the Flame-Forsaken Hells is going on here?" he growled.

Neither of us answered.

"Headmistress. Now."

He dragged us out by the scruffs of our uniforms.

Great start to dorm life, Ember. Real smooth.

And I still hadn’t spoken to Carla.