Burning Bright

Chapter 1

I sighed deeply as I searched my closet for an appropriate dress to wear to the ceremony. Each year we're forced to go to "the most important moment in an adolescent's life". Giving pre-pubecent children magic that will determine whether their life is ruined is not at the top of my list for a fun day out. 

Each year I feel badly for each newly-chosen Calorn child. He or she gets the priviledge to undergo scrutiny until he or she screws up and is sent to a bright room to be psychoanalyzed. 

Calorns, or Flamies as they're colloquially called, are seen as volatile miscreants with disdain for most others. The last part is not entirely false, but it's difficult to care for those that want nothing more than your head. Calorns are typically seen as the most prone to become psychopaths. All of this is because of Francis Peterson, the war criminal that lit an entire village on fire so as to deter the Tempest warriors. Despite the fact that every Calorn I have ever met is appalled by Peterson's actions, people seem to see us as his followers.

That's right. I, Delia Ramone, am a Calorn. That's what I tell my therapist every time I have a court-ordered session. I don't know if it's meant as identification or a shame tactic. 

The thing that sucks about my life is that anyone that looks at me hates me, but at least I can make my room warmer. Sometimes just to watch the reactions of "civilians" I hold a flame on my finger and let it dance from one finger to the next. 

It will be a fun party trick at the ceremony. This year, however, there is a slight variation to the monotonous drone that is the pure embodiement of the annual ceremony. This year, my "darling little sister" Adrianna will be given her magic. 

Eventually, I find a dark red dress that will draw little attention. Unfortunately, once you are granted your power, you have to wear your given color(s) so as to identify which element you belong to. Of course, this makes no sense, because if we are truly controlling the element, why do we "belong to" it? We do not compare dog owners by the breed, do we?

Despite the societal alienation, it's pretty awesome being able to control fire. I can make smores on my hand, and I can do cool tricks with the flames. I just really like fire though. I sometimes light a scrap of paper on fire and watch the flames consume it. I watch the paper cower to the flames. The smell almost always fills my room. 

I walked downstairs to see my father sitting on the couch. His Tempest Purple suit looked ominous over his royal blue shirt. My father was a Tempest, and my mother was a Calorn. My mother had been arrested several years back when she told a police officer that he was being unfair to give her a ticket. A Glacie man had rear-ended her car when she was at a stop sign, forcing her forward and in to traffic. 

Now, obviously this is not my mother's fault, but Calorns are supposed "Compulsive Liars." Though I can lie, I don't tend to. I'm an honest individual. 

I grabbed a bagel and toasted it in my hand before going to grab some cream cheese spread. 

"Hey, can you make me a bagel Del?" called my father. Most parents hated having a Calorn child. They refuse to let them use their gifts within the walls of the house. 

I toasted his bagel and tossed it to him. He usually preferred it without shmear. 

My father never agreed with society's views on Calorns. He knew that it was just a racist load of bologna. He fell in love with my mother and he had continued to love me after my gift had been revealed. 

Many parents give Calorn children their own room so they won't set fire to anything belonging to their siblings.  Some even send their children to a far away boardng school. That place is mostly Calorn. People see the ceremony as some sort of awakening to the demon their child always was.