The classroom buzzed with magic and tension, every corner filled with fae trying not to blow something up. Fire crackled. Wind howled. Somewhere across the room, someone’s water spell soaked a ceiling beam and made it rot mid-air.

I grinned.

Our table was quieter, for now. Garnexis stood beside me, arms crossed as we stared at the test contraption in front of us. A floating mobile of metal rods and gears hovered in mid-air, designed to rotate with a steady application of elemental force. Fire for propulsion, metal for control.

We had to keep it turning long enough for the professor to sign off. And the moment either of us pulled back, it would all stop. That was fusion for you. Temporary, finicky, and a pain in the ass when one partner had control issues and the other preferred chaos.

“So,” I said, cracking my knuckles, “I give it the fire, you keep it from spinning out like a drunk gremlin?”

Garnexis didn’t look at me. “You need to maintain a consistent flame. No flare-ups. No heat spikes. If you warp the balance arm, I’m not fixing it.”

“Warping is a strong word. I call it improvising.”

She shot me a sideways glare. “Improvising is how you blew a hole in the workshop last week.”

“Correction,” I said, pointing, “I melted a shelf. Not a hole. Very different.”

She muttered something under her breath. Probably not complimentary.

Still, we had a goal. And if I was being honest, it was kind of fun. A test of real control. Not the kind where you held back, but the kind where you had to match someone else's rhythm without stepping all over them. Like sparring, but with magic instead of fists.

“I’ll anchor the structure,” she said. “You channel your fire through the central gear. No theatrics.”

“I don’t do theatrics.” That was a lie, but she let it slide. “Ready?” I asked.

Garnexis gave a short nod. “Keep your flame steady, and I’ll do the rest.”

I reached into myself, finding the ember that lived at my core. It was always there, waiting, my ancestors’ voices an incessant chatter. My magic flowed easily. I didn’t have to coax it or beg. I just thought flame, and it came alive.

A golden glow bloomed around my palms, heat curling up my arms. I held it low and even, not letting it climb like it wanted to. Garnexis stepped forward, lifting her hands as if pulling invisible wires. The metal structure above us vibrated, then hummed, like it was waking up.

I focused on the gear beneath the center beam. That was where my fire belonged. I fed it slowly, like adding coals to a forge. The gear lit with a soft orange glow, spinning slightly.

“Little more,” she said.

I added just a hair of heat. The mobile tilted, the arms dipping unevenly. Garnexis tightened her grip, and the frame steadied.

We did this, back and forth, correcting each other in tiny ways without needing to speak. I saw the tension in her shoulders ease. My flames found their rhythm.

Then it happened. The mobile moved. Smooth, balanced, humming like it had its own heartbeat.

Professor Aeshan, a Sun Fae with carrot orange skin, walked by and nodded once, his golden hair shimmering.

“Marked,” he said.

Yes! I threw up a quick, silent fist toward the sky.

I let out a slow breath and pulled my magic back. The moment I did, the gears slowed. The glow faded. Garnexis dropped her hands.

We stood in silence for a moment, the air warm and sharp between us.

“Not bad, gears,” I said, smiling hugely at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t melt anything. I’m shocked.”

“I am capable of restraint.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it twice.”

I clapped my hands together. “Let’s do it again!”

That finally pulled a grin out of her. “Crazy fae.”

Garnexis wasn’t easy to please, but we made that work.

“Just admit it. We work good together. A Summer and Fall Fae. Who knew we could fuse our elements?”

She nodded thoughtfully, her dark red eyes open for just a moment before her walls went up again. “Good work, flamebrain.”

I’ll say! The way we had to move in sync, neither taking over, neither backing down. It was kind of like fighting with a partner who could actually keep up.

The fusion was gone now, like it had never been there. But for a minute, it had worked. Our magic didn’t cancel each other out. It held, just long enough.

It made me wonder if Aster and I could achieve similar results. I didn’t know if it was possible, but I was willing to try.

The thought excited me more than I thought I’d ever feel about a Winter Fae.