There was something about fire that steadied Edea's spirit. She knew she shouldn't stare into it for long, as to not damage her eyes, but there was something deep and fulfilling in watching the wavering of a flame.

She knew she was no mage, having had no formal training with magic, but she had an interest in the Spell Fencer. The outfit left a few things to be desired, for certain, but the abilities were intuitive, and they allowed her to remain a frontline fighter - a role she was most comfortable in.

Nightmares began to hover over her. The more she discovered about the duchy, the more unsettled her sleep became. She missed her dreams of flying and the ocean.

At night, when everyone was at rest and she had a moment to herself, she would hold Ise-no-Kami in front of her and enchant it aflame. Then, she would have a seat and gaze into the silent fire. She cleared her mind and deliberately concentrated on one thought at a time.

I am not Ominas Crowe. I am not a mindless arsonist.

The flame remained steady; she could continue.

I am not Argent Heinkel. I hold the sword with honor.

I am not Einheria Venus. I…will not serve an idea that is fundamentally wrong.

I am not Kamiizumi… I —

The flame sputtered, matching the hitch of her breath. She tried to continue that train of thought, but she could not muster the fortitude to think of the people closest to her, the ones who wouldn't come back, in that way and keep the fire intact.

Edea sighed and wiped the mist from her vision. She was alright. It was alright. The fire came back.

…I am not Ominas Crowe.

As the days went on, she learned to conjure the flame in her hand without burning herself, and then to make it hover slightly above her palm. As before, she meditated while contemplating its movement.

I am Edea Lee, daughter of the Templar. I am doing what I can.

It was unlike her to dwell on somber things for long, so she worked with the handheld flame to see what else she could do with it. She could leave little wisps flickering on things, like just above towels to keep them warm and near dark doorframes so she didn't need to reach for candles.

Her next idea, of course, was to give tiny fire whorls to each of her companions when they traveled through the Eternian mountains.

"Don't be scared, don't make sudden movements. It'll stay small, just like that!"

The others murmured interest and wonder.

"Doesn't this tax your concentration?" Agnès asked softly.

"Not at all! Well, not in any significant way. It'll be fine!"

The group marched on single file through a tight trail, holding their flames close to their bodies. Edea took up the lead this time, facing the brunt of the worsening storm. Save for the wind and snow, it was quiet.

Edea began staring into her flame, her steps sure and solid even if she wasn't looking at the path ahead.

Someone behind her sneezed, and she jumped. Then someone screamed.

"My coat!" Ringabel yelled. "Put it out!"

"Ah! I'm sorry!" Edea whirled around, calling off each handful of flame. "I got surprised —"

No one was hurt, but Ringabel's coat had a hole burnt into its sleeve and side, so the others had to cling to him so he wouldn't catch cold.

After they had reached Eternian Central Command and everyone else was safe and asleep in her bed, Edea took a needle and thread and repaired the coat by the light of her fire.