My creative writing assignments

i don't like the og title and don't know what to title this (fiction!!)

Author's note: the creative nonfiction unit ended a little while ago, and now were back with stuff i actually like to write. This is a fantasy short story, if you read flight or fight before i took it down a long ass time ago (unlikely because only starlystar read that) then you will recognize the world. A dystopian short story is coming soon.

There was a young boy at the back of the eating house, hiding behind his wings because the barmaid had yet to get the fire to light in the big fireplace on the other side of the room. His younger sister, Alzena sat by it watching patiently. The young barmaid just couldn't get the wood to catch the fire, and Ezker wanted to walk over and snatch the fire striker from her and do it himself despite the fact he'd probably have a harder time than her.

But in the blink of an eye as a pair of men passed by the fireplace it was lit. The barmaid took a step back, a little surprised because she thought it wasn't going to work but then brushed it off, continuing with her duties in the kitchen.

But Ezker noticed something off, as he peeked through his wings and stared down the second man. He swore he had seen it, a hint of fire touching the man's hand. But he was not burned. How could the fire have stretched so far as to touch him? How had he not been burned? The boy thought, eyes darting between the fire and the man's hand.

The man sat down at a table with his companion, and the other barmaid walked over to him and took their order.

Was it just a trick of his eyes? Or the dim light of the eating house? Ezker continued observing quietly.

An elderly barmaid approached Ezker, blocking his gaze from the man. "Dear? Would you like something? Tea maybe?"

"Tea sounds good, and a cookie?" he could probably get away with stealing something so little, anything more and the owner of the eating house might chase him down the street. A child ordering tea and a cookie is forgettable.

The woman walked away, and Esker continued observing curiously. The man said something to his companion, then the man turned his head to look around the room, before putting his hands around the candle in the middle of the table, and when he lifted them. Fire. This man was a mage. How else could he set fire with nothing but his hands?

The other man whispered angrily to him. Ezker couldn't make out the words. They seemed to have a quiet heated argument as Ezker thought. He had heard of mages, when his mother would take him and his at the time baby sister to the temple many, many years ago (at least it felt like many in his head, since he had not lived long enough to have been alive many, many years ago). He remembered the preacher talking of them— People who were cursed by the gods from birth, plagued with horrible magic that would kill people. He had seen a poster in the sheriff's office for their bounty when he had been pulled in one time. A man could make at least 180 kor by finding and turning in a mage to the sheriff's office, or if available straight to the scout's office all the way in Furtith. Bounty...money. Ezker needed money. Money could solve all his problems.

Ezker let out a little laugh as he thought of it. He'd be able to buy winter clothes! Alzena could get a real meal. Right, Alzena, she'll never agree. Ezker looked at his younger sister near the fireplace. She had walked off to find kids to play with a half-hour prior. There weren't any other kids in there, at this time, but Ezker didn't protest.

The barmaid reappeared, with his cookie and tea. "There you go dear, will that be all?" She placed the tea and cookie on the table.

Ezker placed his wings back behind his back, slipping his feet off the edge of his seat so that they'd dangle from the stool and grabbing the tea cup, "Yes."

The barmaid walked away. What could he do? He was just ten years old, how was he supposed to catch a grown mage? A mage who wields such a dangerous force as fire at that. Oh and keeping Alzena out of his way. He scowled as he thought and took a sip of his tea when he saw over the cup, a fisherman.