Prologue

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The fire was hot. Okay, that was pretty self-explanatory. It was the only memory Molly had of the fire that killed her mother. It was strange that she remembered anything, having only been four at the time. If you asked anyone else about life at four years old, they wouldn't remember much. There were other memories too, if one wanted to get nitpicky. But none before the fire, which was the only thing of importance. It was as if, in her memories, her life before that day had never happened.

Having no memories of her mother might have made it better, might have made it worse. It wasn't like she knew, since she'd never had it any other way. 

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Jax's father had died in the rain. Ironic, he often thought to himself, that years later he would develop water magic of all things.

He'd died drunk, alone, passed out, rain pouring down around him as his weak heart gave out. That was fine with Jax. He'd always hated his father. 

Thinking back on it, he sometimes wondered if he'd done it subconsciously before his powers developed fully. The rainstorm had seemed out of the ordinary, not fitting in with the climate or the forecast. 

Whatever the case, it made no difference now. His father was dead, and now he had to provide for his mother. 

Suns burn out slowly. The only question is when the same would happen to him.

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