The Wanderers' Adventure

Chapter Eight: Ember's Inferno

The night settles into a quiet stillness, the storm long gone, leaving the city in a state of eerie calm. The Wanderers huddle together in the old warehouse, each lost in their own thoughts as sleep eludes them. But for Ember, sleep is not just elusive—it's dangerous.

She sits alone by the dying embers of a small fire she had lit to keep them warm, the flames mirroring the ones that burn inside her. The others are resting, their breathing slow and steady, but Ember knows better than to let herself drift off. Nightmares have always been her constant companions, but they're not just dreams—they're memories, seared into her mind like the flames she controls.

Her mind drifts back to a time before she became Ember, back when she was just a girl named Mia, living in a small, quiet town far from the chaos of the city. Mia was a bright, curious child, always eager to explore the world around her, always filled with a boundless energy that seemed to draw people to her. But that energy also hid something darker, something she didn't understand until it was too late.

Mia's parents loved her, but they didn't know what to do with her. They tried to keep her occupied, enrolling her in every activity they could think of—sports, music, art—but nothing could keep her still for long. And then, one day, everything changed.

She was ten years old when it happened. It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made the air shimmer with heat. Mia had been playing outside, pretending to be an adventurer exploring uncharted lands. She remembered feeling frustrated, though she couldn't remember why. Maybe her friends had refused to play with her, or maybe she'd been scolded for something trivial. Whatever the reason, she felt a rage bubbling up inside her, hotter than the summer sun.

And then, without warning, it happened.

One moment, she was standing in her backyard, fists clenched in anger. The next, the air around her erupted into flames. The fire spread quickly, too quickly, engulfing everything in its path—trees, the fence, the grass. She remembered screaming, the sound lost in the roar of the fire. She remembered her parents running toward her, their faces twisted in fear. But most of all, she remembered the heat, the searing pain as the flames licked at her skin, the sensation of being consumed by something she couldn't control.

The next thing she knew, she was in a hospital bed, her body wrapped in bandages. The fire had been extinguished, but not before it had left its mark—on her home, on her family, and on her soul. Her parents were there, but they looked at her with a mixture of relief and something else—something that cut deeper than the flames ever could.

Fear.

They never said it outright, but Mia could see it in their eyes, hear it in their voices. They were afraid of her, of what she had become. They tried to hide it, to reassure her that everything would be okay, but the damage had been done. Mia was no longer just their daughter—she was a threat, a danger they couldn't protect themselves from.

For weeks, Mia stayed in that hospital bed, her body healing but her mind in turmoil. She didn't understand what had happened, didn't know how to control the fire that had burst from her so violently. She was scared, not just of the flames, but of herself. She could feel it now, the heat that simmered beneath her skin, always on the verge of boiling over.

When she was finally discharged, her parents took her home, but it wasn't the same. The house had been repaired, the fire damage erased, but the scars remained. Her parents tried to act like everything was normal, but there was a distance between them now, a wall built from fear and uncertainty. Mia could feel it every time they looked at her, every time they hesitated before touching her, as if afraid she might burn them too.

She tried to keep the fire inside her under control, but it was like trying to hold back a storm with her bare hands. The more she tried to suppress it, the stronger it became. And then, one night, it happened again.