Her father disappeared into the shop one way, and Wade slowly sulked off in the other.

Ember felt two halves of herself stretching to their limit. First, she hated having to hurt Wade the way she did. She couldn't love him, not when loving him meant losing everything. Second, her father and the way she had betrayed him. She had gone against his wishes and put the shop in jeopardy. She had taken every sacrifice he'd ever made for her and stomped on them.

She gently picked up the glass orb with the engraved flower, tracing over it with her finger. Then, she looked back up at the crowd of Firish people, all shifting and whispering uncomfortably, staring at her judgmentally.

"Ember."

Ember turned to the soft voice at her left. Her mother was standing there, watching her with a pained expression. She reached up and grabbed her hand, but Ember pulled away before turning and following her father into the shop.

When she entered, Bernie was at the blue flame, saying a prayer in Firish before throwing in a wooden tribute. Ember respectfully waited for him to finish before speaking, her mother not far behind her.

"Àshfà," she said softly.

Bernie didn't turn around or respond.

"Àshfà, I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, choking back a sob. "This is all my fault."

Bernie finally turned to her. Betrayal had befallen his expression, and he watched her silently for a moment, his flame flickering hot. "Why?" he asked finally. "Why would you do this? Does shop mean nothing to you?"

Ember's flame faltered, and tears filled her eyes. "Àshfà, that's not true. You have no idea what I've –"

"Yes, I have no idea!" Bernie interrupted, his flame burning brighter. "You keep secrets from me! After everything I do for you, you endanger shop for water!"

"But, dad, listen to me!" Ember pleaded. "It's not like that! He's just – I just – I never –!"

"You were supposed to protect shop!" Bernie cut in again, moving closer to Ember and jabbing his finger in her direction. His flame grew as his anger did. "But you don't put shop first! You choose water over shop!"

Ember shook her head again and fell to her knees, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Dad, no, please listen to me!" she pleaded between sobs.

"No!" Bernie said, turning away. "You disrespect me and our culture." He turned sharply back to her, nearly turning purple. "You are bad daughter!"

"Bernie!" Cinder said with a gasp, putting her hand over her mouth as Ember's flame faltered.

Ember's jaw slacked as tears welled in her eyes. She and Bernie held eye contact for several moments. After Bernie had realized what he'd said, he started to relax, his flame shrinking. The silence in the room was deafening and threatened to extinguish them.

"Ember!" Bernie called as Ember stood, turned on her heel, and ran, but he was too old to run after her. The sound of her motorcycle starting up followed after she ran through the door, the sound of the motor shrinking as she drove away.

Cinder approached Bernie and spread her hands. "Bernie," she sighed, trying to meet his eye.

"I . . . I didn't mean that," Bernie said regretfully. "But she was seeing water!"

Cinder huffed impatiently. "Bernie, I'm trying to tell you, it's true love! I did their reading. They are a perfect match."

Bernie looked at her. "You . . . knew about this?" he asked, hurt creeping into his voice.

Cinder held her hands in front of her. "Only for a couple of days," she admitted. "I wanted her to tell you when she was ready."

"But he is water!" Bernie insisted, throwing a hand up. "How could he light the stick?"

Cinder inhaled thoughtfully. "Well," she started, spreading her hands again, "it's hard to explain. He sort of . . . used Ember's light and bent it so that it lit the stick."

"Bah!" Bernie scoffed, waving dismissively. "That's not how it works. Only fire can match with fire!"

Cinder shook her head. "I can't explain it, Bernie. But it's true. Ember and Wade are a perfect match."

Bernie turned and shook his head, refusing to listen to Cinder. Cinder exhaled and walked around him so she could see his face again.

"Bernie, when we left Fireland, your father didn't give you his blessing for your dreams," Cinder reminded him gently. "You said to Ember you would give your blessing every day she come in here. Does her happiness not deserve your blessing?"

Bernie shook his head and coughed a few times before sitting on a bucket. "Of course her happiness deserves my blessing. But water has always tried to water us down, and I will let no one water down my daughter!"

Cinder sat next to him and grabbed his hand. "Darling, our daughter is very headstrong and spitfire. She has your spirit. When has Ember ever let anyone water her down?"

Bernie stared at the floor before exhaling. "I just don't want anyone to hurt my daughter. She deserve someone that make her burn brighter," he responded finally, refusing to meet Cinder's eye.

Cinder smiled. "I don't understand why she fall in love with water either, Bernie. But I do know that my nose has never been wrong before, and I want Ember to be happy too. She has been burning brighter than I've ever seen her since she met Water Guy."

Bernie finally looked over and Cinder for a moment, then nodded as he looked back down. "I was too harsh on her," he admitted. "I lose my temper."

Cinder rested her head on his shoulder. "Ember will be back, Bernie. Let her calm down," she assured him. "Besides, if Water Guy hurts her, we will just boil him together, hm?"

Bernie chuckled. "I would do anything to protect her," he said. "I just hope she forgive me."

Cinder squeezed his hand. "She will," she promised him. "She loves you, and for that reason she will forgive you."

Bernie nodded. "And I love her, and for that reason she must know I want her to be happy."

Cinder smiled. "Let's start cleaning up outside while we wait for her to return."

— § —

She felt so stupid.

Àshfà was right.

She was a bad daughter.

Ember had been driving for a while now, no particular direction in mind. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon now.

How had she allowed herself to get so wrapped up in her own emotions? She was being so incredibly selfish. Her Àshfà had sacrificed his family, his homeland, and all his possessions, and she couldn't sacrifice enough of herself to just run a stupid shop?

The glass orb in her pocket seemed to feel heavier and heavier as she drove. She had created the bloom inside just as her feelings for Wade had begun to bloom. She kept thinking about how mesmerized he was by it when she molded it, and how he had saved it for her. He called it special.

He called her special.

She shook her head, her flame flickering in the wind as she drove aimlessly. That's all they were, feelings. It wasn't love. It couldn't be love. Elements don't mix. She could never love him. She just loved the way he made her feel, that's all. But she didn't need him. She had to fulfill her duty to her father, one that she had failed miserably at doing.

You are bad daughter!

Her father's words rung in her ears, tearing at her chest like knives. She needed to let go of Wade and focus on what's important.

Turning her firecycle toward the pier, almost absentmindedly. She needed to be rid of the reminder of her failure. She let Wade get into her head and make her forget her responsibilities.

Never again.

The trip to the pier barely even processed in her mind. Her feet carried her to the railing overlooking the bay, her firecycle parked somewhere behind her. She pulled the glass orb from her pocket and studied the flower inside. Wade's voice echoed in her mind. It's special.

Images of her time with him flooded her mind. She hated how cloudy he made her judgment. Fire and water couldn't be together. She grunted in frustration.

"Why can't I just be a good daughter?" she asked no one in particular, gripping the orb tighter and holding it to her forehead.

Her flame flickered to purple and she held the orb over her head, preparing to hurl it as hard as she could into the bay.

But she couldn't.

It's special.

His words kept repeating in her mind and she relaxed. She felt torn between two futures: one where she let herself indulge her feelings for Wade and what she truly wanted to do with her own life, and another where she did her duty to her family and took over the shop like a good daughter would do. She owed it to her father.

But could she ask what she owed herself?

A crack and explosion pulled her from her thoughts. The glass dam she had created had burst. Her flame faltered as she watched a flash flood begin to tear its way through the canals. Another failure of hers that would now devastate an entire community, let alone her family.

"Firetown," she exclaimed fearfully before turning and hopping back on her firecycle. Regardless of her decisions yet to be made, one thing was for certain. Firetown was her home, and she couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to warn them, no matter the cost.

Love was about sacrifice, even if it meant sacrificing yourself.

— § —

Meanwhile . . .

The sound of the awkward silence that he had left faded behind Wade as he walked away from Ember's party.

He was so sure that he and Ember had had a connection. The way he felt when he was with her was unrivaled. The way she laughed, how bright she burned, the way she lit up when she was molding glass, her eyes . . .

He shook his head as he walked onto the train car. He couldn't think about her that way anymore. It clearly wasn't meant to be. Firetown gently glowed in the distance as the train started moving forward, and Wade watched as it disappeared behind him through the window.

Images of Ember uncontrollably filtered through his mind. The time she burned so hot she made an entire balloon powered only by her heat. The time she'd created a glass orb with her bare hands. The way she burned so brightly when she'd sealed the doors that he could barely see her. The way her light refracted through his water. The way she'd laughed and burned brighter when he took her to see the Vivisteria flowers. The way she fit in his arms. How her warmth felt pressed against him.

He loved her so much, more than he ever thought he could love a woman. She was his waking thought, his every dream, the only thing he thought about when he was awake, and the last thing he thought about before going to sleep. He could close his eyes and all he could see was her face. He'd fallen behind at work because of how often he'd catch himself stopped in a random place, thinking about her and where he wanted to take her next.

He shook his head again and put his head in his hands, letting the gentle bumping and rocking back and forth of the train bring him some semblance of comfort. He had put his heart on his sleeve, and he had gotten burned instead. The desire to cry welled up inside him, but to his bewilderment, he couldn't bring himself to tears.

He lowered his hands and watched Element City zip by, only a few minutes to his stop. This emotion was something very new to him. He had never been so hurt that he couldn't cry. Crying was like second nature to him. He was never afraid to cry or show his emotions. This was a situation that, more than anything else, would warrant a good cry. Still, the tears wouldn't come.

The train stopped, causing Wade to gently lurch forward a couple of inches. Hoards of Element City residents filed off and more took their place. Wade found himself glued to his spot. He couldn't explain why, but he didn't feel ready to go home yet. He needed to sit with his emotions for a while longer, and the train offered a good place to think and be with himself.

The skyline in the distance started moving again and buildings whipped past. Wade spent a while contemplating what he should do, and why he found it impossible to deboard the train at each stop. He had already told Ember how he'd felt and was rejected, so the only other option was to return to his apartment and move on with his life.

Right?

As he passed Element City, he could see Mineral Pond, the Alkali Theater, the Skyrise, and the Open Air Cafe below, all places that Wade had taken Ember on their first dates. He wanted to look away and repress the memories, but was unable to. He concentrated hard on them before they disappeared behind him, trying to will tears into his eyes so that he could process the hurt, but not even that was enough to bring them on.

When Firetown loomed back up in the distance, Wade stared distantly. The train had completed his first loop since he'd boarded, which meant he had been riding the train for around two hours. Smoke gently billowed up from countless chimneys and in the dark, and windows glowed in the homes of the Firish people as they turned in for bed. He felt a lump in his throat as he realized he could just barely see the Fireplace down below in the distance.

Wade felt himself stand straighter involuntarily. Realization washed over him as the train went through its unload and reload process at the stop by Firetown, then continued on its way. Firetown once again faded in the distance and he finally felt a tear gently slide down his cheek as he understood what awakening he'd been waiting for.

He had to leave Element City.

He had to learn how to unlove Ember, and he couldn't do that here.

— § —

When he told his family about what happened with Ember, it was immediate tears and sympathy all around. They supported his decision to leave, knowing it would be too painful to continue residing in the city that not only held cherished memories of his time with the woman he loved, but was also a 5 minute train ride from where she lived.

At the port, the family said their goodbyes to Wade, supporting his journey to go heal his broken heart. His uncle had painted a portrait of him to take with him, which set the entire family off into tears, but was quickly interrupted when a loud crashing sound resounded behind him.

"Ember," Wade breathed, realizing the crashing sound was the doors bursting open, sending a rushing tsunami of water toward Firetown.

He charged forward, dropping everything. Angry people of various elements screamed curses after him as he pushed past them. Cars honked wildly at him and swerved as he ran into traffic without stopping. He grabbed onto the back of a bus as it started moving forward and climbed up to its roof to get a better vantage point. He was about a quarter mile away from the rushing water, and he needed to move faster.

Ahead, he noticed a drain in the curb.

Oh, buoy, Wade thought as an idea came to mind. The last time he'd gone down a drain did not end well, but this was for Ember.

He braced himself as the bus approached the drain and as it passed, he jumped down feet first, falling directly into the drain. It was a dry day, so not much water was present currently aside from the dampness of the metal pipes. The pipes rumbled and vibrated as the sound echoed through them, carrying the sound of rushing water not too far away.

He followed the sound of the raging water, sloshing himself through the narrow pipes determinedly, and stopping at each intersection to determine which way the vibration became stronger. Finally, he let out at a pipe that dangled just above the raging river and he spilled out of the drain, hanging onto the end of it. Firish people were cowering in the upper floors of the buildings and homes in Firetown, worriedly watching the destruction below.

Fear gripped Wade as he realized how easy it would be to lose control in the rapids. In his attempt to save Ember, he could end up being swept miles away instead. The Fireplace was about two blocks away, and a Firish person had just leapt into the store through a window above the door, and Wade had no doubt that it was Ember.

I don't love you! Go!

Ember's words tore at him once again, but he swallowed the lump that they caused. What he was doing was insane, stupid, and dangerous. He could even die or end up miles from home. His family would have no clue what happened to him. But he found himself not caring.

Reciprocated or not, he loved Ember, and love was about protection.

He took a deep breath to gather his courage and dropped down from the pipe and the onslaught of water immediately swallowed him. He moved so fast he had to fight for control so that he could steer himself in the direction of the Fireplace. The door approached and he realized the only way in without endangering Ember further would be through the keyhole.

Not the most heroic way to make an entrance, but as long as he could save Ember, he didn't care.