Coruscate

Chapter 1 - Spark

I touched it. I didn't look at it, I didn't grab it, I grazed it. But it was clutched firmly in my right hand. Sure, I was prone to doing things absentmindedly, but taking a book off a packed shelf? Doubtful. I looked down at it with a furrowed brow and wide eyes. I inspected the volume: it was thin, about as big as my face, hardback, with no writing on either cover. It didn't have a dust jacket or barcode either, which was unusual for this library. Very curious, I opened it, and was met with two words:

A Guide

I flipped through the rest of the pages but found them to be blank.
"Huh," I said, thinking it odd that this library had a book with only two words in it. Even though I thought it was pretty weird how I came to be looking at it, I bent over to leave it back in its place on the shelf. But when I tried this, the result was unexpected. Where I'd placed the book was now empty space, and instead, my left hand firmly gripped it.
It now firmly gripped my attention.
"That's weird," I said, understating my thoughts to dampen my... fear? Anxiety? I couldn't exactly define the feeling.
I looked around to see if anyone else saw what I saw, but there was no one around except one of the librarians, Mr. Hurd, doing something on a computer. I turned my gaze back upon the book, and my left hand which involuntarily gripped it. I considered trying to set it down again, but I knew it would refuse.
Refuse? I thought, confused at my own thinking. What did I mean by refuse? Did I think this inanimate object had a will of its own? Now that I mentioned it, I noticed that this object did feel... off. Physically. In a way beyond my impression of it after seeing it teleport.
I tried releasing my grip, and, to my surprise, it fell to the floor. I squatted down to pick it up. Why was I able to put it down this time?
A small idea formed. I stood up and set the book atop the metal shelf, intending to leave it there. I could take three steps before it placed itself in my hand.
Well that's... uh, peculiar.
     With this, I decided it was time to head home. I assumed I wouldn't need to check it out from Mr. Hurd, as I was fairly sure he wasn't lending out magic books. He didn't seem like the type.
I walked over to the window which viewed the street. The weather had changed from the beginnings of an unseasonably warm day, to something stereotypical of Seattle. I looked down at my thin red sweatshirt and shoes that would not repel the rain which now fell.
I turned towards Mr. Hurd. "Bye!" I said, giving him a wave and a closed-mouth smile.
He looked up from his work and did the same. "Goodbye, Moira. Did you find anything interesting today?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. "Um... yeah!"
"Glad to hear it."
I unzipped my hoodie, tucking my new companion within, to protect it from the rain. However, I paused, wondering if this thing could even be damaged. It could teleport; who's to say it could get wet? I put it in anyway. Better safe than sorry, I guessed.
I tucked my curls into my hood and turned the doorknob.

⇠ ⇢

My home wasn't that far from the little library, but it still took a significant amount of time to reach it. I used my key to enter the safe, dry warmth of it. I took off my soaked sneakers and placed them next to two other pairs of shoes.
I looked at my hand to see it steaming. It surprised me that the temperature difference was so extreme between here and outside. With my hand raised closer to my face, I could actually see the droplets of water collapse and turn to steam. This wasn't right.
I stared at the palm of my hand until it was completely dry. Couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Sparks crackled in the air around my hand, and I felt a heat radiate onto my face. My hand reddened.
Combustion.
"Holy sh—!"
Bright orange flames sprang forth, my hand and forearm enveloped, whipping at my face. As the eager blaze singed my hair, I stumbled backwards to the floor and landed on my rear. The flames erupted further, roaring with power, and cast light as far as I could see within the house. The front door window shattered.
My face burned, but far less than the searing pain I'd expect, and I felt no pain in my arm whatsoever. Only heat.
I began to notice something in the flames. Shapes that weren't random. Rapidly, the shapes became clearer, as the flames calmed and shaped themselves accordingly. It was a scene of a forest, and in the middle of the frame was an oval, which shifted into the shape of a person. They came into focus. The angle was from behind, so I couldn't see the face. But I did see something else: loosely curled hair.
"That's me..." I breathed.
She — I held something. A knife, I thought, but it wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before. Long and wickedly curved, with whorls etched into it I could just barely make out.
I stood defensively with the blade brandished, as if waiting for something to come out from the trees towards me. But after a few seconds of nervous turns of the head and pivoting in place, I lost my stance, freezing. Fire me made a 180 to face where I viewed her from. Her wide eyes met mine, and the flames made a final burst before going up in smoke. The vision along with it.
I heard footsteps.
"What's going on?! Moira?" It was my father.
He entered my line of sight, and I saw his face change from slight confusion, to utter shock. He looked from me, to the broken window, to the scorch marks, then the hanging smoke.
"You're home..." he said, eyes wide.
I said nothing, my mouth as agape as his.