It had started by accident - a spark that escaped your fingertips when you sneezed. Hao had turned immediately, eyes widening as the small flame hovered in the air before fading. You gasped, startled, staring at your hand as if it had betrayed you. Hao approached silently, his long robes whispering against the ground, eyes calm and unreadable.

"You’ve been near the spirits long enough. It seems they’ve started to answer you," he said softly, crouching to your level. "Don’t be afraid."

You weren’t sure you believed him. Fire had always been his thing, not yours. But as he held out his palm, a gentle flame danced above it, warm but not burning. "Try again," he said. You hesitated, brow furrowing in concentration, and slowly, a spark flickered at your fingertips - small, trembling, but real.

The flame danced between you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile. Hao’s lips curved faintly too - barely there, but unmistakable. He hadn’t meant to teach you, not yet. But the spirits had chosen, and so he guided you anyway.

"Fire isn’t destruction," he murmured, his voice low, the glow of the flames reflecting in his eyes. "It's life. Remember that."