Free Forged of Fire by Stacy Von Haegert Page A

steal it from me. I promise I won’t put up much of a fight.” He grinned, unable as usual to resist her carefree spirit. If not for Marsala, Ash would have probably ended up in a cave stewing for the last thousand years.
     
    Marsala laughed. “Yea right. You forget how long I have known you. You have never backed down from a challenge. Or a fight.” Her eyes fixed on the fiery headed bender. “She is good.”
     
    “She is quick. And smart. But lacks discipline. I am not sure that at her age she will master the necessary mindset in time. Not to mention, she has been safe in the mortal world. Until last night that is.” He glanced over at Marsala. “Obviously that was the first fear she has ever felt that was actually strong enough to trigger her natural self-defense mechanisms. And what did she do with it?” He put both hands on the railing in front of him and looked down at the fragile bender. “She had zero control.”
     
    “As you said, she has never been trained and tested. You will teach her. I have full faith.” Marsala said.
     
    “If she does not kill me.” He chuckled. “She is as wild as a baby pit viper. So much venom and not enough self-discipline to control injecting it all at once.”
     
    “I think she is beautiful. Not just physically but spiritually. Such an interesting aura she possesses.”
     
    Ash turned to face Marsala. He had never been gifted with the ability to see auras. He often teased Marsala that it was just hippy dippy air bending hocus pocus. For some unknown reason he felt the need to indulge her. “Oh yea? What’s hers?”
     
    “Clear red and soft blue are the strongest ones but there is also a gorgeous gold.”
     
    “Clear red?” Ash lifted a skeptical brow. “Like watered down blood?” He chuckled. “Would that not be pink?”
     
    Marsala slapped his arm playfully. “Geeze, not letting you near Crayola marketing. Here kids,” She mocked. “Your new color, watered down blood.”
     
    “I would color with it.” He shrugged.
     
    “No.” She went on. “Clear means that the essence is pure. Red is passion. To combine those means it is not angry or lustful but pure. The strongest kind. Blue is calm and the gold is the rarest, it’s the color of enlightenment and divine protection. When seen in an aura it shows that the person is guided by their highest good.”
     
    “So basically, she is as pretty on the inside as the outside. She will be perfect for pretty boy down there.” Ash folded his arms, annoyed with himself.
     
    “Basically.” Marsala, clasped her hands behind her back and looked back to the training room, not fazed at all by his sudden mood. “But auras change. Like yours.”
     
    Ash had heard her tell him about his aura before but he never believed any of it mattered so he never placed any stock in whatever color Marsala said his was. “One’s aura can alter?”
     
    “Of course. Just like a life. They are only given their truest strength when a path is correctly followed. A premonition fulfilled so to speak. Humans and immortals get it wrong all the time. It’s in our nature to war against things that scare us. Often times the things that scare us, are the very things that define us, either from avoidance of the fear or confrontation of it.”
     
    “Remind me how my aura has changed?” Ash asked.
     
    “Are you going to listen this time?” She studied him. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Your colors have always been bright but also dark. You cling tight to your hatred. Your red is far from clear but your dominant color may surprise you.” She paused.
     
    “Don’t tell me it’s violet.” He gave her his best droll stare.
     
    “It’s gold.” Marsala smiled. “And, it’s never faltered. Not once.” She took his hands in hers. “Ash, I am so glad Bane sent his Gilcolm to us the other night.” Her expression grew serious and her voice dropped in tone. “This is your destiny. Your gold aura has never been clearer. You