Firemage - a human who embodies the Element of Fire, controlling fire, creating firestorms, and can see the future in flames
BRANNYN
The Rose Farm, Northwestern Valory
26 Alune 575A.F.
"Gods curse this stupid rain," I muttered, scowling into the fireplace at the sodden wood I was trying to light. "Burn, damn you!"
The others watched me with wide eyes as they huddled under their blankets. It had been raining for days, the freezing, miserable rain of early spring which soaked everything, including our woodpile.
The flint shook in my hands, my body trembling with both the chill and my frustration. I had been trying to get the fireplace lit for nearly half an hour, and a part of me wanted to rip the whole cursed thing from the wall and toss it into the Western Ocean.
I took a deep breath, and tried once more. It didn't light. I swore, and tossed the flint as hard as I could against the far wall. The clatter it made was far from satisfactory, and I growled as I punched the floor. My anger was clawing at me; I hated being trapped inside, the walls closing in around me-
"Brannyn, the floor!"
Kryssa's startled shout made me glance down, and I jerked back in alarm, away from the small pocket of flames on the floor beside me. She rushed over and stamped it out.
"Sorry, Kryssa." I stared at the burns in dismay. "I don't even know how that happened."
Her brows drew together, and she knelt. She gingerly touched the scorch marks, and I realized they looked like the grooves of fingers. "Brannyn?"
My fingers.
I set my jaw. I didn't know what it meant any more than she did, but I was willing to try anything if it meant not using the cursed flint.
I bit my lip, concentrating, and held my hand over the wood in the fireplace. The others were silent; I think they held their breath as the long minutes dragged past.
I had been angry when I punched the floor, and I focused my frustrations on the wood in the fireplace, willing it to burn. Nothing happened. Sweat began to form on my brow in effort, and my head began to throb.
Finally, I felt it: a faint, cool sensation on the back of my neck, like the trickle of water on a hot summer's day; a slow release of tension, like a coiled spring calmly unwound.
The fireplace exploded.
I was sent flying backward, colliding with the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kryssa and Lanya dive for the younger children, shielding them from the sharp, jagged pieces of brick that shot across the room. I found myself prone on the floor, staring as blue flames roared in the blackened fireplace, consuming the wood in mere moments, leaving only ash and choking smoke.
The room was suddenly sweltering.
I sat up slowly, groaning at the ache in my shoulder where I had struck the table. The floor around me was speckled with embers. I did my best to stomp them out before they caused any more damage, for the first time thankful that our father was with the Crone.
Kryssa began to laugh.
I gaped at her in surprise, which only seemed to make her laugh harder. The others joined her, nearly helpless in their hilarity, and I stared at them in confusion. Lanya at last had pity on me, swallowing her laughter long enough to fetch a mirror.
I had no eyebrows. They had been completely burned off, leaving my face looking perpetually startled. Much of my hair was still smoldering, and black streaks lined my face.
I looked ridiculous.
I joined in the laughter, unable to help myself. We collapsed to the floor, laughing until tears ran down our faces.
"Perhaps you're a Firemage," Alyxen commented later, after we had cleaned up the mess I had made. Father had returned from the Crone's, but he had not noticed the scorch marks in the fireplace nor my missing brows before he had lurched into his room and slammed the door.
"Don't be stupid," Kylee sneered. "Firemages only exist in stories."
"You're stupid. They're real. All the Great Mages are."
"Even Darkmages?"
"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. But I know Firemages are real."
Kryssa glanced up from brushing Lanya's hair, and held up a hand to end the argument. "Alyxen, why don't you explain what Firemages are, then we can figure out if Brannyn is one."
He stuck his tongue out at Kylee. "According to the stories, the first Great Mages came about during the Great War, when the Younger Gods overthrew the evil Elder Gods. The Gods needed champions-"
"Like us?" Reyce interrupted.
"No." He paused, frowning, thinking it over. "Well, maybe. I don't know. Anyway, the Goddess Naitre-"
"Why do the Gods even need champions?" Kylee demanded. "They're Gods, aren't they? What could we do that they can't?"
Alyxen glared. "Can I finish the story?"
"I just think it's stupid."
"Quiet, Kylee." Kryssa's fingers darted through Lanya's hair, braiding it. "It's rude to interrupt. You may ask your questions at the end."
"Sorry, Kryssa."
"As I was saying, the Goddess Naitre went to all the Guardians of Ca'erdylla, and-"
"Guardians?" Reyce looked confused. "What Guardians?"
Alyxen growled.
"The Guardians are the beings created by Destiny before the Gods came to Ca'erdylla," Kryssa explained patiently. "They protect the Elements that were used to create the world."
"Like dragons," Lanya added, "or golems."
"Oh."
"Hush now, dear heart. Let Alyxen finish his story."
"So Naitre went to all the Guardians, and asked them for help with the Elder Gods, who were evil. The Guardians said they couldn't help directly-"
"Why not?"
"Reyce."
"Sorry, Kryssa."
"The Guardians said they couldn't help directly because it would destroy the world. Instead, they created the Great Mages, who had the same powers, but were human."
The others all began to ask questions at once, until Kryssa raised a hand. "One at a time."
Kylee sat up on her elbow. "Why couldn't Elves become Great Mages? Or Dwarves?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "The book said it was because Men are the weakest of the races. Maybe they thought it would make us stronger."
"Or turn us into bullies," she muttered darkly.
Reyce raised his hand politely, waiting to be called on. "Did the Great Mages really defeat the Elder Gods?"
"Yes. That's why we serve the Younger Gods now, because during the Great War the Mages overthrew the Elder Gods and stripped them of their powers."
Lanya started to turn around, and Kryssa gripped her head to keep it still. "Are Great Mages really like Guardians? I mean, are Firemages just human dragons?"
"Not quite." He frowned. "The Great Mages are human Elements, the ones the Guardians protect. Firemages can do a lot of incredible things, but they can't fly so they're not really dragons."
"What can they do?" I asked finally, curious.
"They create fire. They never get burned. They can make firestorms. Oh, and they can see the future."
"Really?"
"That's what the book said."
"Have you seen the future, Brannyn?" Reyce stared at me, wide-eyed.
"Sure I have," I joked. "It said we were all going to be rich one day and live in the palace and eat cake with the Emperor."
He made a face at me. "You're making that up."
"Of course he is," Kylee snapped, exasperated. "We never get cake."
Reyce stuck his tongue out at her.
"Do you think Brannyn is a Firemage, Kryssa?" Lanya asked quietly, turning to look up at our sister.
"Well, I don't," I answered for her. "It was just a stupid accident. Having a little fire magic doesn't make me a Great Mage." I pointed at my face. "I'm not even fireproof. I burned off my own eyebrows, for Gods' sake."
Lanya giggled.
"I think we'll figure out what Brannyn is in time," Kryssa said gently. "I also think it's time for bed."
The others groaned, but tromped off dutifully to the bedroom. I lingered, watching as Kryssa stood and carefully banked the fire. The scorch marks on the stones seemed to mock me, and I swallowed, suddenly afraid.
"Kryssa?"
"Yes, dear heart?"
"I'm dangerous, aren't I?"
She gazed at me, her emerald eyes dark and intense upon my face. "Aren't we all?"
I had no answer, and so I went to bed.
We did not discuss my fire again, and, because I tried very hard not to use it, the others seemed to eventually forget about it. But I could not forget- I could feel it, pulsing beneath my skin, a caged beast waiting for freedom. The blackened stones reminded me of its dangers, but my temper was short and violent in those days, fueled by Father's cruelty, and it was only a matter of time before the fire erupted again.