Asher Knights

Prologue

    Asher comes from a long line of Fireborn families, but they have been dying off for a while now. Born with fire in her blood, Asher is a lot like Kelmir Osue, Coal Osue (A credit to FlameElemental) and Suzi Osue. Asher is travelling the globe searching for purpose and meaning. Unable to tap into her powers at will, she can be dangerous one minute and innocent the next. Along the way she fights whatever evil pops up, to gain some sort of self-acheivement. Asher's closest thing to a friend is a Firedrake, Aldain, who tags along with her on her seemingly endless journey, seeking her unusual warmth as comfort. She was orphaned when she was found in the streets of London, seemingly with no close family. She often feels lost and without cause, thus her reason for searching for meaning. At some times, she can't handle being around other people, and any who stay around her after she has a panic attack or can handle fire in extreme quantities, turn to ashes. Sometimes vice versa happens, if she's not around someone else she snaps and anything around her explodes into ashes. She is of American descent, despite her strong British accent, and being of American descent, and being Fireborn, she cas close family ties as a cousin of the Osue family (Credits to FlameElemental again). Without proper guidance and teaching, she will forever be untapped with her abilities. She is slightly insane, therefore giving her an edgy feel and look most of the time.

A baby cried in a dead street in the famed London city. An unmarried couple were drawn to it, either by some mystic force or just by pure luck, and found the baby wrapped in a small, rugged blanket. The whole of Britain was tensing, ready to declare war on Germany for a third time if it was necessary. The couple, previously without any hope or light in their world but one another, were overjoyed to find the baby. But, either by chance or fate, the baby would not be a light in their world, but would instead leave their lives the very day after they found it. The next day they went to the hospital to have the baby's health checked. It had caught a cold, but the doctors and nurses easily treated that. The doctors had asked if it was the couples' child, they answered nay, that they had found it in the streets. The doctors directed them to the orphanage across town. They went where directed. The orphanage was a musty little hole, where the kids looked dirty even after being cleaned by the nurses there. The nurses gave sidelong glances during muffled conversations at the couple. The couple, after talking to the receptionist, were greeted by a tall man in his late 40s, his hair greying to the point where the ends of his hair were the only reminder of what he once was. The ends of his hair were blackened to the point where they would have blended into the wall behind him if it was the shade it once was once upon a time. After a very short conversation he took the baby from them and walked out of the room which he had taken them to.

The tall man carried the baby into the next room over from his study. The room was adorned with antiquities, bits and bobs, odds and ends. One of the more notable antiques, a black set of metallic armour that towered above even the man, it was without its helmet, an incomplete set of armour. The baby, who had stopped its infernal crying, now lay in a small cot staring up at the armour. The tall man walked back out of the room and into his study. The couple stood up. "So?" they asked.
"I've admitted the baby into my personal care." He replied.
The couple looked dismayed. "Oh. I guess it does need professional care."
"I can release it from my care in a few years' time."
"Really?"
"Yes, so you can either wait or forget about the baby."
They looked thoughtful. "We'll wait."

The couple never came back.