Roya
My hands shake and small puffs of steam rise from my mouth. I blink the icicles forming on my lashes off. They instantly start to reform. "Roya?" My father asks from just inside the house, the gas lantern hanging beside the door making a sort funnel towards my figure looming in the snow. "Yes, father?" I call back, standing up to brush the snow off my cloak. "Darling, come back inside. You aren't going to gain you powers like that, you don't have the mark." He pauses for me to answer. I don't move.
"We are also setting off to Fairbourne in the morning, my darling, so you need your sleep." He calls back. Finally with a huff of frustration I run to trudge back into our small cabin. Once I have hung my cloak to the peg beside the door, I approach the fire place. I kneel down I front of it and start playing. Dipping my fingers in, then pulling them out when they start to sting. Every time I dip my fingers in, they sting less. I don't hear my father approach from behind, before he touches my shoulder.
"Roya." He whispers, his voice full of disapproval. "Darling, go to bed please." I sigh. "Daddy." I whisper, a tear running down my face. "Your turning 16 tomorrow, Darling. If you had the power, you would have realized you had it 10 years ago." He whispers, keeping his voice light. "I know." I reply. I hunch over and cry my tears into the fire. And for a moment, only a moment, I feel something rise inside of me.
Queen Adara
Heat radiates off the walls and is directed back at me. My throne is warm and cold at the same time— feeding me power and taking it away at the same time. A peasant girl quivers in front of me. "Hello, Darling." I whisper, making sure my voice is full of kindness. "H-hi." She stutters. Before I can say anything else, a fire ball explodes in the polished glass underneath the child. The ball explodes fire all over he clear walls and gathers at the top of the grand dome. The child screams. "Martha!" I call, my voice high with excitement.
"Yes, my queen?" My favourite and most trusted maid asks, hovering at my elbow. "Escort the child to the guest room, clean her up and find her a good home with one of the wealthy families." I say. Martha skips down to the child that sits in the corner, cowering. She take her by the elbow and leads her too the east hall.
I stand up, my cherry red gown pooling around me as I walk to the centre of my throne room. "Fire gods," I whisper, lowing my voice. A flash of light then the world goes black.
<><><>
In the darkness a spark ignites. It flickers and flies, creating more sparks. They start creating a image. A young teenager forms, maybe 15 or 16. In the sparks her hair glows red and she had a delicate and nimble face. I don't spot the mark on her cheek. The little flame-like birth mark. In fact, her face is bare of all marks. Before I can react or think at all, the darkness begins to recede, until all I can see is the glass walls.
I stand from the warm floor, and straighten my dress. "My queen," Martha says, fluttering towards me. She grabs me by the arm an helps me stand. "Are you well, Adara?" She uses my name, something I usually want her to call me. "Yes, Martha." I gasp, breathing heavily. "It's only that a child has been chosen to be my heir." I smile at her.
Roya
I wake early the next morning, smouldering hot. I climb from my bed and run immediately to the window. I throw it open and let the cold, chilly air waft around me. Once my temperature has dropped a few degrees, I light a lantern and travel downstairs. Father sleeps in the room to the right of the kitchen. I stock the fire in the furnace. Then it happens again when the flame licks my finger. My body bursts into heat and I groan uncomfortably.
Once my body is normal temperature again, I begin my usual game. Dipping my fingers into the flame am pulling them out when they begin to burn. But instead, my whole body burns again. Finally I stop, exhausted from running back and forth from the window to the stove.
<><><>
"Roya?" Father asks, shaking me awake. My shoulder aches and my neck is kinked. "You fell asleep on the floor, my darling." He says, propping me up while I yawn and rub my eyes. My body is as cold as ice. I shiver intensely. Father stand up and leaves to fetch a blanket from my bed. I crawl to the stove and swing the door open to reveal flames. I touch my finger to them. I don't burst into uncomfortable heat, but instead I warm until I'm perfect.
By the time father comes back downstairs, I stand in the kitchen preparing a breakfast of bread and cheese. "Are you well?" He asks, seating himself at the table. "Very," I answer with a small smile. Once we are done eating, father disappears to harness the Clydes. I busy myself with sweeping the dirt floors and tidying the bedrooms. Eventually, I dress in my finest dress and traveling cloak. I pick my satchel full of coins I've collected and sling it across my body.
I stuff a sheep skin bag with cheeses and crackers wrapped in cloth. A bring a sheep bladder of water and tuck my favourite book into the bag. I slip on my soft leather boots and appear at the door to leave. Father waits patiently in the buggy. My Clydesdale prances nervously at the sight of me. I approach and pat his nose tenderly. I then turn back and climb on to the hard wooden bench beside my father. He clicks and jingles the reins and the horses step forward.
Queen Adara
My dress flies behind me as I march to court. I burst in in the middle, everybody freezes. They eye me wearily, for over been kept up in my room since midnight last night. The sun set an hour ago. "My queen," the head guard says, bowing. "James, I need you and your guards To go looking for a heir. I do not know her name or where she lives. I do know she came to the power last night, and she is 15 or 16. The mark is absent." I say. James nods, urgency is mirrored in his eyes.
I turn and leave, climbing back to my room to sleep once more.
