“Help! Oh, by the Eye! Corlo!”

  I was on the ground, tears pouring from my eyes and gasping for breath. What had just happened? There was shouting and screaming. Corlo was running around, his head had disappeared to be replaced by a flaming inferno. Bloke was on the ground too, crying and begging for help as he crawled away from me. Corlo’s howls were loud enough to draw others until he finally collapsed on to the ground a gurgling mess. I smelt a terrible stench in the air. It was like someone had set fire to an outhouse and tossed a goat carcass on top of it for an additional level of disgust. Other lackeys came running and eventually Madame Fevre herself came to stare down at Corlo. Or rather, what was left of Corlo.

  I groaned and rolled on the floor. My stomach ached, but my mouth was surprisingly fine.

  Isn’t that strange? Why didn’t I burn too?

  I had just vomited up enough liquid fire to consume another human being. I felt dazed, but also ambivalent as I gazed numbly at Corlo’s smoking remains. Surely that wasn’t a normal reaction to what had just occurred? Then again, this wasn’t a normal situation. It was some sort of miracle that nothing else had caught fire as the cruel lackey had danced and flailed about howling like mad before the flames finally finished cooking his brain inside his own skull.

  “It was Davros, Madame Fevre!” Bloke spat, snot running from his nose as he choked back a sob. “He threw up fire all over Corlo and by the Eye…he killed him!”

  The other lackeys kept their distance as I pushed myself back up to my feet with a groan. I forced myself to look up at the headmistress, but couldn’t form the words to explain, not that I could. Madame Fevre’s face was stone as always, but then I noticed something else in her gaze I had never seen before. There was a glitter in her eye and to my astonishment, she smiled at me.

  Have I ever seen her smile before?

  “Torkin. Hansa. Escort Davros into the Reflection Room. I believe he has much to reflect upon.” The two lackeys who had been named looked at each other and then at Davros. Their fear was evident and neither moved. Madame Fevre frowned. “Davros, you will sit in reflection until I say otherwise. Is that clear?” Madame Fevre’s voice was cold as ever. Her tone conveyed to me the sense that having an orphan burn another alive wasn’t anything she felt needed any additional words. I could only nod my head and acquiesce. Taking orders from someone for over twelve years was not a yoke he could just toss off, regardless of this unique situation.

  “Yes, Madame Fevre.”

  I meekly entered the Box and the door was slammed shut behind me. Either Torkin or Hansa bolted it securely and I heard Madame Fevre’s voice one last time.

  “Get that filth cleaned up and toss it in the ditch out back. If any of the rest of you break into my larder again you’ll think what happened to Corlo a very mild punishment indeed.”

  I sat facing the wall and stared at nothing. My mind was just starting to process what had happened and I was in shock. Not about Corlo. Him I didn’t give a fig about. No, it was the fact that an ‘Awakening’ was another way of saying my Mana Core was now active and that I could spew fire from my mouth. It was a lot to take in.

  I leaned forward until my forehead rested against cold stone. This part of the Orphanage was built into the side of a small hill so that special rooms like this one could be used for the cold storage of perishables. The Box was such a room, but kept empty to cool off the unruly child who had done wrong in the eyes of Madame Fevre. To give the offender time to ‘reflect’ upon their inappropriate behavior. Everyone who came out of the Box needed days to thaw out and many became ill from the exposure. One may as well have been exposed outside when in the Box. There had been more than a few deaths from being locked in the Box for a prolonged punishment, although that was rare and likely intentional. It was strange then that for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel the cold at all.

  Remarkably, I felt warm. Pleasant even. It was as if I were outside on one of those rare days in late Spring when the weather is, if temporarily, sunshine and warm breezes. The land surrounding the manor became fields of dandelions and the nearby forest felt almost safe to walk in, if not quite. Those few orphans who in the past slipped away into the forest were never seen again. There are mixed opinions on their fates.

  I felt it had to be my Mana Core that was making me feel this way. Mana! I could tap into the very fabric of creation! So that was what ‘Awakening’ meant. How was such a thing possible for someone like him? A nobody. With a thought I willed the notification window open again. I made note that the white rectangle window had changed to a blue rectangle window. If that was important, I couldn’t say, but nothing else was different.

  Awakening Complete!

  Trait: Born of Fire.

  Limited Effect: Imbolc’s Breath

  I could understand none of it, but wasn’t worried. I had experimented with the Timer window over the years during idle moments and not only had I learned how to make the windows big or small, but I had also learned that one could focus upon a word or a line and sometimes receive additional information. It is likely thanks to this trick that I can read at all. Madame Fevre had only ever taught the basics in reading and writing. I decided to try the trick now. There was plenty of time. It would likely be at least a day before I would be released from the Box. I also doubted any of the lackeys would ever come near me again. I grinned.

  Good.

  If this was the path to growing stronger, I wanted to walk it. I wiped a hand across my lips. They were wet with spittle, as was often the case, but nothing that burned. This time. I decided that when Madame Fevre finally let me out, I would tell her what I was and she would have to start treating me better. And I wanted more food.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Born of Fire (Imbolc’s Trait): Imbolc’s Waxing Phase. Total Fire Resistance. 50% increase to Spell Power, Hit Chance and Critical Chance of Fire based spells.

  Hmm. Numbers. I’ve never been good with numbers. Is 50% good?

  Imbolc’s Breath (Limited Effect): There are times where the Mana within you grows too wild from taking repeated enemy attacks and will require an immediate outlet. Imbolc’s Breath will allow you to expel a gout of wild elemental flame. (Elemental Flame cannot be extinguished by normal means).

  Eye protect me. So that’s what I did to Corlo? Limited Effect? Some magical term, I should think. I’m going to be vomiting fire again when my Mana goes out of control? How often will that happen? What if I’m having a squat and I need to puke some fire? This part I don’t think I like so much.

  Trait: Permanent ability. Always active. Will affect subsequent spell and skill abilities.

  A Trait means that it is forever. So I’m going to be throwing up fire the rest of my life?

  Imbolc’s Breath was going to be a challenge to manage. Learning to manage Mana was going to be a new experience, period. Everyone possessed Mana, it lived in a Core adjacent to the heart. Even so, few could make use of it. That much I had learned just from listening to other kids talk about it. There had been a boy, Osric, who had only been with the Orphanage for two years after his parents abandoned him. He had told everyone his parents had been Awakened and could do incredible things with their Mana.

  I felt a pang of sadness thinking about Osric. He had been a kind boy and I had felt we may have almost been friends. At the very least, he never mocked my face. Osric never explained why his parents had left him, but he had always been certain they would come back for him one day. Osric had died after falling from a scaffold when Madame Fevre had made a group of the smaller, more light weight orphans replace some roof tiles one Summer. Osric’s neck had broken and he had been dragged away to be buried and was never mentioned again.

  That won’t be me. By the Eye, it won’t. I have fire now. I’ll tell Madame Fevre just as soon as she lets me out of here. Yes…

  I refused to acknowledge the jolt of fear that crawled up my spine when I thought about Madame Fevre perhaps never forgiving what I had done to Corlo. What further punishments was she even now devising? The fire would keep him safe, he determined. The fire would help him survive.

  I felt drained and sitting in a pitch black room without any sound was making me feel drowsy. This wasn’t my first stint in the Box and during my last punishment I had spent most of the time sleeping.

  I stretched out as best as I could, but I had grown a bit since last time and when I leaned with my back against one wall I discovered that my feet could now easily reached the opposite wall. A fear of enclosed spaces had reduced many an orphan to wailing tears inside the Box, but small spaces had never bothered me. On the contrary, they made me feel safe. It was as if I was in my own personal vault where nobody could hurt or mock me and the rest of the world left me alone.

  I ran a hand along the side of my face and up to my forehead. I touched a finger to the small divot in my skull I had sustained from that long ago fire. If only I could remember how I’d received it! This dent was a source of a lot of ridicule. Names like ‘Skullcrack’ or ‘Bentface’ had followed me my whole life. Time taught me how to ignore the names, but I always dreaded the mandatory haircuts Madame Fevre administered. She cut everything as close to the skull as she could get it.

  Not anymore. Not when they can all see what I can do. I’m going to let my hair grow as long as I want. I’m going to cover this crack and my face. Nobody will ever see how ugly I am ever again!

  Things were moving fast and my head was still spinning from the new reality I now found myself in. I needed to take things one step at a time. I felt my eyes grow heavy and I let out a long breath. Now that I was calming down, fatigue was wrapping its arms around me.

  It felt like I had closed my eyes for only a moment, but when I opened them again I was in a vast, black wasteland of ash, fire and smoke. The air was pungent and every breath I took drew in lungfuls of what should have been poisonous gas, but I remained unharmed as I walked barefoot over smoldering coals that were the only source of light upon the dark hellscape.

  “Hello?” I cried. This was a dream, my dream, but I could feel eyes upon me. I sensed the watchers even if I couldn’t see them. My voice echoed back at me, as if I were standing in a cave. Ashes buoyed by the hot wind raced across cracked and broken earth.

  Where was I? Why was I dreaming of such a desolate place the likes of which I had certainly neither seen nor dreamt of before. The wind whipped the charred fragments of something into the air. It got in my hair, coated my skin, but amazingly my eyes were spared and I could still just make out something large ahead of me as I forced myself to walk faster.

  The something large turned out to be an obsidian obelisk. It was like a giant had stabbed a jagged black knife into the center of a heap of burning coals. As I moved closer, still marveling I was able to safely walk upon the fiery ground, I saw the runes that were etched upon the obelisk’s smooth surface.

  I craned my neck trying to see how high the obelisk reached, but the top was obscured by a wreath of smoke. Two runes at the bottom stood out more clearly to me than the others. They flared as red as the coals beneath my feet as I moved closer to inspect them.

  I can read them? Of course I can. It’s my dream.

  Ash. Flame.

  Quest: Select a Path to follow Imbolc’s Flame to Power and Greatness!

  Reward: 50 XP

  Two runes. Two paths. From each rune grooves wound their way horizontally, vertically and sometimes even diagonally to connect to other visible runes. Yet both paths clearly were moving up the obelisk to higher and higher heights of power.

  I knew instinctively that by reaching out and touching one of these runes I would activate its power within me. One choice…for now. Ash started to fall around me like rain and there was a rumble of thunder somewhere out in the distance.

  This is my dream, so why does it feel like something is coming? Something I don’t want to meet.

  If a choice had to be made I needed to make it sooner rather than later. I quickly examined both runes and a notification floated above each to provide more information.

  Rune: Ash (Path of the Flameweaver)

  The seed by which new realities are born. Without destruction, there is no creation and all stagnates. Wield the power of Creation and Destruction. Enchant weapons, create traps, transmute flame into armor.

  Rune: Flame (Path of the Pyromancer)

  The spark of life that casts out darkness. Fire Eternal. Boiling blood, flaming projectiles, enhancing of senses.

  I wiped my chin, unmindful of the ashes I was spreading across my face. The Ash rune gave me the impression it was a more crafting or melee focused path. Enchanting weapons and turning flame into armor leant credence to that hypothesis. I was no fighter, but would a lackey ever try to hurt me again if I was armed and armored in fire?

  I already knew, however, that I was settled on the Flame rune. I was intimately familiar with what it was like to feel cold and alone in the dark. If Awakening meant that I no longer needed to be afraid of that darkness then that was the path I would take.

  As if sensing my choice, the Flame rune flared red and I felt a shudder run through my body. The ash falling about me seemed to slow then freeze mid fall before blasting away as my dream self pulsed with a surge of power. I gasped and fell to my knees. The obelisk hissed as the Flame path glowed with power. Golden light traveled along the path and I could see three additional Runes glowing where the light came to a stop. I had no time to focus upon what the runes meant before there was a great flash of lightning and I was somewhere else.

  Quest Complete! You are awarded 50 XP!

  New Quest! Reach Level 5 for additional Rune!

  I was surrounded by a wreath of flames. My Mana Core pulsed and a warmth unlike any I had felt before spread throughout my body from where I lay sleeping in the Box. Condensation formed upon the cold stone surrounding me. Never had I felt safer or less afraid despite the surrounding flames.

  Primary Class Selected: Pyromancer

  I’m finally warm. It feels so good to finally be warm.

  “Not alone,” I whispered both in my dream and also where I slept in the Box.

  Not alone, the Flame in the dream agreed.