Children of Zau

Chapter 1: Make Sure It's Worth Watching

"One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching."
These were the words that rang through Jai Youngblood's head as she drove to the meeting spot. This would be the sixth child she would take in, the sixth runaway Zau. Zau were the magic-users of the world, the ones born with unnatural powers that separated them from the rest of the people. The Zau were once respected and praised in Jai's home land of Ardor, but the tensions of the rest of the world had caught up to the country, and they were no longer as accepting. Children who exhibited these powers would be abused or even cast out of their homes in fear and disgust, and would have have nothing but the little hope of acceptance to lead them on.
Jai had made it her task to raise these poor children, picking them up on street corners and abandoned buildings and wherever else they would arrange to meet her. These arrangements were confidential, of course; it wasn't against the law, but the local officials certainly wouldn't approve of the Zau children belonging anywhere but the streets. They were abominations, the common person thought. They were freaks of nature.
Obviously they all failed in Zaubegat Theory II, Jai thought as she cruised down the road in her spelled hovercraft, the dying sunlight glinting off her sunglasses. She learned the terrestrial magic at a young age; you didn't need to be Zau to learn basic warding spells or crafting of potions. Flight and hovering weren't exactly basic, but with enough work they could be learned. Of course, it was frowned upon nowadays, but wasn't everything? She had never been one to conform to society's standards.
She had arrived at the meeting spot- a discreet uninhibited farm in the middle of nowhere. Tumbleweeds blew in the lazy warm breeze as she opened her door to step out of the craft. She caught a whiff of manure, and ignored the urge to plug her nose. Weeds were growing rampantly, and Jai heard a low moo in the distance. There was a big brown barn in the middle of the overgrown fields. It was made of wood, Jai saw; many planks had already fallen off and some dangled precariously from nails. In fact, the structure looked like it would topple down with a strong wind. The whole scene felt like it had been there since  the beginning of time.
This was the place.
Jai stepped out of the car and heard a squelch beneath her foot. Grimacing, she lifted her black combat boot to see what it was. Thankfully it wasn't manure but rather just mud mixed with wet grass. It had recently rained. She continued trudging through the field, tall weeds attacking her ankles, until she reached the rotting barn door.
She was about to send a message to the kid, telling her that she was here, but hesitated. "Make sure your life is worth watching." This was not the first time she had questioned her life choices, and it would most certainly not be the last. Is this what she, Jai Youngblood, wanted to do with the rest of her time, however little that was? Raising children? Teenagers?
They're special, she reassured herself. These kids were forged in the fires of rage. Rage at their parents, at themselves, at the system. Just like you. They'll stop at nothing for revenge, just like you.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, three times syncopated, and waited.
And waited.
Finally, she heard muffled footsteps getting closer to the barn door. With a thud and a click, the door swung open, revealing a boy about 15 years old. He had ruffled bronze hair and tan skin, but that wasn't what startled her. It was his eyes- a pale blue, cold as ice, and very ancient. This boy had seen far too much. And those eyes seemed awfully familiar, though Jai couldn't place why - someone before the Battle, a repressed memory. He stared at her in awe and shock, his mouth in a perfect 'O'. Jai had no idea what to say, so she lifted her hand in an awkward waving motion. He continued to stare, looking like a fish in his expression. She took in the rest of the boy: He was wearing rumpled clothes, in some places threadbare. His hands had a dull red tint to them, probably blood, and blue veins ran up his bony arm. But her gaze drifted back to his eyes. They were the same as someone's whom she had once knew. Someone who had most likely died a horrible death because of her. But before she could start reminiscing, the boy spoke.

"You're the woman from my dream."