My mother clips the helmet to my head and smiles at me. I get on my bike and smile nervously. My father at first helped me start biking, but I figure it out pretty quickly. I bike in a few little circles before going over to the driveway.
My legs ache from pedaling for 15 minutes. I try to smile but all I can do is avoid hitting the mailbox.
Too late, I notice that I'm headed straight for the mailbox. I scream, knowing that I would hit my chin and not knowing how to stop. A gentle whisper comes into my ears, small but insistent. A wind forcefully knocks me back, away from the mailbox. I don't fall off my bike.
I get off my bike, slightly shaken. I hear the gentle but forceful whispers of the wind. The wind speaks words that don't mean anything but are easily translated as words.
Hello, Hera. A small voice whispers.
"Who are you?" I whisper under my breath. My six year old fascination was filling my insides. I look around but don't see anyone.
The whispers don't say a name, but continue to speak like they had moments before.
I look at the sky and imagine it raining. I like the rain. Clouds quickly form in the sky and a tiny rain droplet hits my forehead, followed by several others. The thing that was odd about this was that it had been dry and there hadn't been a cloud in the sky.
"Hera, come inside! I don't want you to get a cold!" my mother yells at me.
I look up at the sky again and imagine the clouds clearing away. Instantly the clouds clear from the sky. I stare up in fascination from the window.
It was the day I discovered my calling.
YOU ARE READING
The Called
FantasyHera was 6 when she found the calling. She can control the wind with the way the wind calls to her. Hera has dedicated her life to finding other that are called to. She meets Vada Springfield with a calling to life. When Hera meets Vada, t...
