Secret Fire

Chapter The First

Nia sat cross-legged on her lumpy mattress and gazed at the opposite wall as she absently picked at her elbow. She was trying not to think about what day it was. She had been training for this day all of her life, she knew that. But when she had woken up, her memories seemed faded. She could remember that she had been training for today, with other girls, for a cause she couldn't remember. The professor, spiky white hair and all, poked his head into the room where Nia sat. He coughed, and Nia looked up at him. "Follow me, please Nia." Nia rolled off her bed and grabbed the folded, pressed clothes under it. She dressed quickly into the jeans and white T-shirt. She hurriedly shoved her pajamas under the bed, then scampered after the professor. Nia ran a hand through her long red hair, reflecting dully off the white walls. The house consisted of one white hall, with four rooms branching off of it. The kitchen where they ate, the bedroom where they slept, the living room where they lounged, and the professor's chambers, where he ate, slept and worked. Someone had cleaned the place recently, as the smell of chlorine and dish soap filled her nose. Her bare feet slapping the tiles was the only sound she heard; well that and her heart thumping out a crazy, scared, rhythm. She had only caught glimpses of that room, when she watched the others disappear into its maw. She hadn't seen much. For the first girl, it was wires and flashes of light. For the others it had been dark, like they were entering a cave. Or a tomb. Nia would rather have had the wires, at least then she could see where she was going. The professor had vanished ahead of her, presumably into his room. Nia halted in front of the door, her breathing suddenly ragged. She seemed to have just woken up, and her past life was hazy, like a dream. But there were these walls, and this expectation of ending like this. But why? What was he working on? Why was her memory so hazy? Nia was furious with these questions buzzing around in her head. She knew she had to do this. In a temper, she yanked the door open. Nia walked into nothing but darkness, heat and fire and darkness. Nia had the sensation of being pulled through water, then nothing. She gasped and gagged, then rolled over and dry heaved. Nia ran a hand over her mouth, spitting. She rose to her feet carefully and looked around. Her lungs ached but she ignored them and breathed in the scene around her. Tall birches swayed with a breeze that reached the dry leaves on the floor sending whirlwinds that made her gasp. The light filtering in was pink/red, sunset most likely. She tipped back her head and raised her arms, breathing deeply, loving every breath of the fresh, clean air. She was dizzy, and more than a little creeped. Here she was, all alone in a big, scary woods. With pink light. Nia blinked, remembering everything from her waking up that morning, going into the room... but everything before that was foggy. And she remembered thinking it was foggy before. It was all very confusing, and it hurt her head to think about it. "My name is Nia." She thought to herself. "I'm wearing a white T-shirt. I'm alone in a pink wood. Very scary. My favorite color is-" Nia faltered. Stunned, she realized that she didn't know her favorite color. Or why she could remember what parents were, but not hers. She had facts of how to live, but no life. Nia suddenly wanted to cry like a two-year-old. She didn't know who she was. Instead of sitting down and thinking, Nia took off jogging, running her hands along the birches smooth bark, the leaves falling into her loose, flying hair. Nia was trying to pull one of the leaves out of her hair when she stumbled and fell to her knees. She had tripped over a strange, twisted stick lying in what looked to be a path. Nia went over and picked it up, it had been carved and used often by the looks of the wear. She called out without thinking, hoping the owner was somewhere near. "I'm over here a way." Came the reply. Nia flinched at the call, as she hadn't really expected a response. Nia took a few steps around a particularly thick grove of little birches and saw an elderly man sitting there against a tree, smiling so hard his face crinkled. "There you are... oh my dear. You're not Silt." He said, his face falling a bit. "No, I'm not." She said meekly, handing him his cane. "Well thank ye all the same child." Said the little man. "I bent to pick this mushroom and dropped my cane. When I tried to pick it up again my foot slipped and it rolled over yonder. That's what I get for going out by myself I suppose." Nia watched as the man lifted himself up with the aid of his new-found cane. He was dressed simply, in loose, black breeches, a bright crimson shirt and a little vest that matched his breeches. He had thick, white, curly hair and bushy eyebrows to pair. "My name is Veer, and yours' child?" "Nia." She said absently. "I have never seen you around the village, where do you hail from Nia?" Questioned Veer. "I don't come from around here. You could say I'm a bit out-of-this-world." She chuckled. Veer's eyes lit up and he broke into a wheezing laugh. "You, you are another one. Come, come!" The old man waved for Nia to follow as he tottered down the worn trail through the woods. Not having anywhere else to go, and desperately curious, she followed the old man. "What do you mean I'm another one? Where are we going?" "We have had many children of the air come to our village." The old man answered. "They appear, then disappear only days later." Nia felt hopeful, knowing he could only mean the other girls she had known. "Where did they go?"