Faen's Child

Chapter 2

[Chapter 2]

Child of God, Child of Cynus’s strength. Wake up, and fulfill your role. Embrace your new power, now that you have matured. Embrace your element, child and protect those you care for. Protect those who have yet matured, and protect those not of our faction. This is the soul of the Faen, the spirit of the strong. Here you rise, here you live to protect.

Hear this, and let your power free, child. This is the Faen’s song. This is the Faen’s chime and melody. Wake up with new eyes, child of the Faen’s world. Let your power guide your soul.

Let yourself embrace a Faen’s life, and let yourself be Faen’s child.

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‘…Let yourself be Faen’s child..’ The last sentence echoed in my head as I jerked awake, panting. Who was this strange, disembodied person talking to me? What did everything mean? Was I being warned of something I should know of?

I realized something. It was not the sort of sudden epiphany, like you’ve suddenly discovered a solution to a complicated math problem. It was the type of slow understanding, the slow, quiet perception of something new, slowly becoming obvious. And when it became obvious, it became something I could not forget.

I had power. It is not the type of feeling like you had suddenly grown another limb or anything. It was not like you suddenly became aware of some pet hanging around you. It was kind of like the feeling of heat or coldness in the air. Like a certain cloud of chemical was in the air, that you could feel but not see, taste or smell.

I stupidly waved my hand in the air, trying to touch the invisible feeling. Only air passed my fingers, but I could still feel that power.

I began to feel a little cold as a breeze came through the window. Strange. I hadn’t remembered pushing the window open. I got out of bed, closing the window in a familiar mundane movement, hoping to ignore the power in the air. Still feeling a little cold, I jumped back under the covers, hoping to keep warm. But I was still cold.

It felt as if every second that passed was every second I was closer to freezing to death. I wondered, shivering under the covers, if I was getting a fever. I immediately regretted wearing a tank top and shorts.

I curled up, wanting to keep my core temperature steady, and fear struck me for a moment. Would I die suddenly, because of this cold? If my body temperature dropped more, then I would begin to get the chills. I could easily die of hypothermia.

“Daddy…  Mummy… Grandma Elvie… Help me…” I parted my cracked lips, watching as my breath came out in a puff of mist. My voice was barely more than a whisper, barely a moan. Inside, I began to panic. What was happening?

I needed something to keep warm, I thought as I closed my eyes. I was scared but I had to do something about it.

Fire. I needed fire. Fire could give me heat. But where could I get the fire? I couldn’t even move to rub my palms for friction. How could I get a lighter? How could I get up to get a match?

Fire.. I need it to survive. An idea struck me. In all the fantasy books that I’ve read, the thing always comes to the hero or heroine’s wants when they needed it. They always had some special power and could do anything they wanted if they put their wish into it. I was hardly a storybook heroine, but the least I could do was try.

Fire, come to me. I need you. Don’t let me die…

I prayed fervently, focusing solely on the words in my mind. I didn’t know what to expect; didn’t want to know either.