Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Soul ❯ Just a Boy ( Chapter 2 )

Fire Soul

Chapter Two

Gayla Droga frowned slightly when she saw the look on Waya's face. The old psychic woman was breathing deeply, as if she had been suffocated. Her eyes were crinkled and her lips were pulled back in almost a sneer. Quickly Gayla turned towards her precious son, the only person in her life. The young boy sat calmly, staring intensely at Waya without saying a word. It was haunting, seeing the five-year-old boy watching someone so quietly.

"What's wrong?" Gayla asked again. When Waya didn't answer, Keane's mother grew slightly annoyed. Quickly she reached for her son, determined to remove him from the old woman who was beginning to appear slightly mad.

"No," Waya barked suddenly, realising that Gayla was going to take Keane away. Keane looked towards his mother with large grey eyes, saying nothing. There was something sad about him. Waya felt a pang in her chest, knowing that she was feeling his feelings. She could sense them. Keane was seeking security from his mother, but at the same time . . .

"No?" Gayla asked slowly, confused. Blinking, Waya brought herself out of her trance like state and turned to face Gayla almost forcefully.

"No," she repeated. "No, nothing's wrong. Your son . . . he has a great power inside of him." She paused, tipped her head to one side as if it was very heavy. "Tell me," she said slowly, "tell me, are you having a child?" Waya remembered what Keane had said, how a voice claiming to be his sister had spoken to him. It couldn't be true, could it? No one she had ever met had the power to speak to an unborn child . . .

Gayla's eyes widened significantly and the young woman flushed slightly. She pulled away from Keane and subconsciously placed a hand on her stomach. "How did you know?" she asked gently. "I only found out a moment ago."

"While I was testing your son?" Waya asked, swallowing a lump that was forming in her throat.

"While you were testing my son," Gayla repeated slowly, obviously confused. "Is this your power?" Gayla asked. Waya bit her bottom lip at the question, slowly turning to face Keane. This was impossible, it really was.

"No," Waya answered. "I had no idea. In fact, Keane was the one who told me."

For a moment there was complete and utter silence. Gayla looked at the old Psychic woman, her face completely blank, her skin noticeably pale. Then, slowly, she spoke. "Keane?" she croaked. "Keane told you that I was with child? How could he possibly . . .? What does this mean? Tell me, Waya, what does this mean?"

Waya smiled gently, trying to reassure the young woman. Throughout the conversation Keane had remained still, not moving from his position in the chair, not speaking. The five year old was not looking at his mother, nor at the Psychic. He seemed, if it was possible, to be looking at something that neither of them could see.

"It means," Waya said slowly, as if trying to reassure herself, "that Keane is the most powerful Psychic that I have ever come across. If this power is real then he is even more powerful than me."

For a moment Gayla was shocked. Her whole body began to shake and Waya grew fearful for her. Then, almost suddenly, Gayla began to smile. Her crimson lips curved into a brilliant smile that lit up her face. The young mother looked absolutely delighted. "This is wonderful news," she declared. "Keane, my son Keane, so powerful . . . is it true?" It was every mother's wish to have a powerful child. A child with power brought fame and recognition to the family. A child with power was highly regarded.

Waya turned to face the mother, frowning slightly. She wondered if Gayla really had any idea what would happen to her son. The power was a gift, but sometimes it could also be a punishment. Then she said something that she never thought she would say. "I think that Keane should take the test early."

Gayla gasped and covered her mouth with a slender hand. The test. Waya wanted Keane to take the psychic test early. No one had ever taken the test early.

"He has a great power," Waya said. "I can feel it running through his body. He can feel it, but he can't understand it. He's shut off from everyone. True, the test is usually taken when the child is older, but I really think that he should take it. Maybe if Keane's true powers were revealed he would be able to understand them better. It's up to you of course."

This last statement was addressed to Keane himself, not Gayla. No one could make a child take the test. It was completely voluntary. Keane slowly turned to face Waya, slightly confused, as if he hadn't heard a word of the conversation. Who have you been listening to, little wizard? Waya thought almost affectionately. How many voices of the world are talking to you?

Then Waya looked into his grey eyes and froze. They were so powerful, so intense, so ancient. Years of wisdom were hidden behind those eyes, behind the innocence of a young child. She gasped as he studied her, overcome with ancient knowledge. It was all there inside him, inside such a young body. Such a powerful soul. She was almost begging him to take the test as her sea green eyes met his.

Keane didn't even consult his mother, who was watching him with fierce pride and hope. He simply looked at Waya and then nodded, consenting.

"Good," Waya said, but she was overcome with a sense of fear. It ran through her blood like fire, causing her to tremble. For a moment, one brief moment, she had felt the fate of this unhappy child, and it had horrified her. Then, without a trace of remembrance, it was gone, and Waya held the cards in her hands with pleasure.

*

"So her progress is good?" the Queen of the Firebrands asked coldly, flicking her flame red hair over her shoulder. The man who stood before her was nervous. She could sense it, and she hated that. She didn't want to sense his fear, she wanted to see it. They were all scared of her, all the Firebrands. That meant they would do as they were told. "Well?" she pressed.

"Oh yes, your highness," the balding physician answered quickly. Too quickly. He answered on impulse, giving the Queen the answer she wanted and not necessarily the right answer. Still, she was pleased. Her little 'investment' was profitable. Three years ago she had discovered that the powers of the young were becoming weaker and weaker. The souls being reborn were weak because the mighty power of the Firebrands hadn't touched them. Only a child of mixed blood, cursed with a soul along with the power of fire, would have power. This power could be used to destroy . . .

Slowly the Queen left the room, sighing gently. The physician watched nervously as she left, fear in his eyes, but she took little pleasure from that fact. She was deep in thought, remembering another time.

She had gone to the village of Hyrn. No one had suspected who she was. She had carefully hidden her mane of bright red hair, a trademark of the Firebrands, beneath a hat. Those Psychics, they were too trusting. How easily she had walked among them, spying on them. Pretending to be one of those pathetic Psychics was so easy . . .

She had met someone, a useless man. Gabriel, she thought his name was. She had put on an act, calling herself Reena, smiling at his jokes, holding his hand. She had married him, and according to the laws of the Psychics she probably was still married to that pathetic man. Still, he wasn't that useless. He had given her what she needed, a weapon. A child of mixed blood. A cursed one. She had the child that she needed, the freak of nature. The little half cast that the Queen had carried inside of her body would become a powerful weapon, when the time was right. She smirked slightly as she stood alone of the balcony of the stone castle. That little girl would destroy her own father and her own people.

*

She was confused. Sometimes that woman would come to her room and speak to her. Other times she wouldn't see the woman with the bright red hair and the amber eyes for days. She wasn't really sure who she was. Par was afraid of her. She knew that. Every time the strange woman entered the room, her loving Par would go all tense and kept bowing and stuttering. She wondered why that was.

Par was her only family. He was so caring and so kind to her. At least, that was what she thought. One day, however, when she had refused to meet with the scary woman, the redhead had grabbed her forcefully. She remembered screaming out to Par as the woman dragged her away, but Par did nothing. He was still too scared. Then the woman had laughed and slapped her rather sharply. "It's no use calling out to that useless physician," the woman had said. "Firebrands don't love. They're incapable of it. That emotion is so useless. You should learn that, my dear. Par doesn't love you, I don't love you. I couldn't even if I wanted to, which I don't. So get this silly notion of love out of your head this instance, Danna."

The woman had been rough and mean. Danna had no idea who she was, but she didn't want to know either. She wanted the woman to leave. Danna had wanted to escape, wanted desperately to leave the embrace of this woman. With all her might she had pushed, and everything happened rather quickly. One moment she had been in the arms of the woman, the next she was suspended several feet in the air and Par and the woman were screaming, either in shock or delight. The feeling of weightlessness had overcome Danna as she floated gently for what seemed like an eternity. With a small cry she had fallen heavily to the floor.

"Extraordinary," Par had muttered, making no move to help the young girl. "This confirms it, I believe. Danna contains a soul as well as the fire of our people. She really does have a soul."

"So she really is an outcast," the woman had murmured. "Then that means she must be powerful."

"Yes, your highness," Par murmured, all nervousness gone as he thought deeply about what had happened. "I believe that since she has a soul and a great fire that she will become one of the most powerful people in all of Hyrn."

"Excellent," the woman responded. "My plan is working. With a powerful creation like this on my side I will be able to conquer Hyrn and then all of Terra." There was a power-hungry tone to her voice that made Danna shiver. "But with the curse of a soul she also has the ability to love." Firebrand people couldn't love. They never could and they never would. Families respected each other, if they were lucky, but love was an enigma to them. "Perhaps this love can be used to my advantage?"

"Your highness," Par said, "if, perhaps, you could convince your daughter that you love her, her love for you would mean she would be completely under your control. Perhaps she would fight, do anything you say."

The Queen snarled and slapped the man hard across the cheek, causing Par to moan silently. "Never, ever, call that little freak my daughter!" the woman hissed. "She is my creation, my weapon. She was designed, planned. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Par said quickly.

That was the first time that a scared, three year old girl learned that a strange woman was actually her mother and the Queen of the Firebrands. It was also the first day that her love was used against her.

*

The test was simple really. It wasn't the complicity of it that made it hard to pass. The fact was that you needed power to be able to get any of the answers right. Slowly Waya picked up the small cards, letting the power of them radiate across her skin, as if they were hot. She began to shuffle the cards, her eyes closed, feeling them all and recognising some. Then she opened her eyes and saw Keane staring back at her. Keane, little Keane. He looked so small in the chair that sat opposite her. Never before had she tested a child so young.

"Don't worry, Keane," she murmured reassuringly, though deep down she knew that the five-year-old enigma was far from worried. "I'm holding fifty cards in my hands," she said, subconsciously tracing her fingers across the cards as she spoke. "They all have different pictures on them. I'm going to hold up each card one by one so that I can see the picture but you can't, all right? All you have to do is tell me what's on the card. Do you understand?"

Keane looked at her, completely unphased. He sat alone. His mother, Gayla Droga, wasn't allowed to be in the same room as her son as he took the test. Even as Waya began to lift the first card, she was overcome with Gayla's feelings. The young mother was standing outside the room. Waya could feel her fear, her nervousness and concern for her son. She could also feel her hope that Keane would do well. Shaking her head slightly, Waya fully raised the card so that Keane could see the plain red back. The Psychic woman drew her mind away from the outside and concentrated on the card instead. Keane couldn't see the picture, but it was simple. A circle. Most children could read this one after a few minutes.

"A circle," Keane murmured abruptly, interrupting her thoughts. Waya blinked in shock and confusion. She hadn't even asked him what the picture was yet. No one had ever read the card so quickly, not even her. Waya swallowed quickly, forcing herself to nod. Her heart was pounding now and she was fully concentrating on Keane as she raised the next card. They were random, and she frowned slightly as she drew the next card. It was one of the most difficult, a picture of a farmer in a field. He was using a plough. Usually the person being tested had to give specific details about this card in order to pass. Waya sighed. Only one person, a young girl from the village, had ever passed this card.

Keane was looking at her intently, almost blankly. Waya could feel his mind as it probed the card, and she knew what he was doing. In his mind Keane was holding the card and turning it around so that he could see the picture. After only a few seconds Keane began to murmur. "I can see a man," he said. "A farmer. He's on a farm. There are lots of fields around him. He's using something . . . a plough."

Waya lost her grip on the card. Her body was shaking and she gasped in air desperately. Her whole mind was in shock. She couldn't believe that this young boy had read the card so quickly. It had taken the young girl over ten minutes to finally describe the picture, but this boy . . . The card slowly floated to the ground. When Waya had managed to compose herself she lifted the next card, ignoring Keane's worried look. She held up the next card, unable to ask the question.

It was a castle, a picture of medium difficulty, but Keane named it quickly. Still shaking, not saying a word, Waya lifted card after card until the test was finished.

*

"What's wrong?" Gayla Droga asked with fear in her eyes. She had watched as Waya and Keane exited the test room, but the look in Waya's eyes . . . The Psychic looked tired, old. Her body was shaking visibly. Gayla swallowed and took a small step towards the Psychic. "What's wrong?" she repeated. "What happened?"

After a moment Waya seemed to come to her senses. Shaking her head the Psychic turned and saw Gayla as if for the first time. Blinking, she brought a hand to her head. "I'm sorry, Gayla Droga," she said. "The power that your son is emitting simply disorientates me. Do you want me to tell you Keane's test results?"

For a moment Gayla looked confused or shocked. She looked down at her small son and placed a hand on his shoulder, as if for comfort. Then she looked back at Waya and slowly nodded. "Yes," she murmured. "Tell me."

*

The lives of Gayla and Keane Droga changed dramatically after that day. What had started out as being Keane's soul test became the psychic test and it had revealed so much about the young boy's powers. How was it possible that a boy as young as this could contain such awesome powers within his body?

Keane held the soul of a powerful wizard within him. The wizard was famous throughout Terra, a man of great power and great wisdom. Now that same power and wisdom flowed through Keane's veins and influenced him. Waya had told Gayla the news, and it was obviously much more than she had expected. Gayla had almost collapsed as she learnt that Keane, her son, had passed the test with flying colours. Not only that, but he had described the pictures on all fifty cards. No one, no Psychic, had done that since the death of the last great wizard. What did it mean? That was what everyone wanted to know. This powerful child had been born into their village, so it must have been for a reason.

Keane became a celebrity in his village. Everyone knew that he had passed the test at an early age with an outstanding result. Everyone stopped to congratulate Gayla Droga, who beamed with pride. Whenever anyone bent down to congratulate Keane personally, the young boy would look at them with haunting grey eyes. Those grey eyes unnerved them all, who backed away quickly. The child may be powerful, but he was different.

Keane remained a quiet child. He often spent his time alone, a character trait encouraged by his soul. The sleeping soul within him had belonged to a wizard who spent his whole life isolated from those around him. Unfortunately, Keane also became withdrawn, but he was a peaceful and kind child. That was until he fell asleep . . .

*

It was a fiery place. All around him was light, the natural and yet haunting light of flickering flames. Golden and crimson flames licked around him, engulfing everything, hissing as they claimed their prey. The heat was almost unbearable. These flames surrounded him. Orange tongues licked his legs and he found himself screaming.

The flames were dancing around him, gracefully leaping, leaving trails of gold and red behind them. They moved quickly, almost as if the flames had a body. Squinting, Keane could see a figure in the flames. Gold and crimson twisted together to form a figure, the body of a girl. A body made from fire. As the figure danced, Keane could make out the features of this graceful fire girl. A mass of read hair tumbled down her back; crimson lips were curved in a smile. Amber eyes were locked on his.

The creature, the girl, was beautiful. Made almost entirely out of flames, she leapt before him, her eyes sad and her movements slow. Keane reached forward, trying to reach her, but his hand suddenly hurt. The flames burnt him and he screamed in pain. He screamed and screamed as the flames engulfed his body . . .

*

Keane woke up screaming in his mother's arms, silent tears running down his face. Gayla held onto him tightly, reassuring him gently that everything was all right. He didn't believe her, he couldn't. A strange fire girl was haunting him in his dreams. His mother clung onto him tightly as if he was precious.

Eventually Keane told his mother about the dream. She had laughed gently, telling him that it was just a silly nightmare. He knew, however, that the dream had meant something. Gayla Droga knew that it meant something too, but she couldn't understand what. She didn't tell anyone about the strange dream and it was never mentioned again.

*

"You're Keane, right?"

"You're the boy who scored really high on the test . . ."

"All the answers -"

"Really?"

Keane was bombarded with questions the first day that he started to go to school. Every child began their education when they were five, after they had undergone the soul test. Keane was the only one in the school that had completed the psychic test too, and that meant he was different. Suddenly surrounded by children, the shy Keane found himself feeling claustrophobic. Smiling as best he could, Keane snuck away from the crowd.

Some of the children were interested in his powers. Others of them were indifferent. Others, however, were wary of him. It was as if they were scared of his abilities, and that made Keane nervous. He took his seat as the teacher called them together. "Welcome, children," the teacher said with a smile on her face. "It's nice to meet you all. We'll be starting our lessons in a few moments."

As they turned away the teacher shot a quick, curious glance at Keane, causing him to grow even more nervous. He tried to smile back but it was difficult. All he wanted to do was leave. Suddenly his mind was humming and Keane looked up quickly. He could feel something. It was buzzing inside of his body, slowly becoming clearer and clearer.

The teacher stood up and began to teach the class, but Keane was unaware of anything that she said. All he could feel was this strange humming inside of his head. Then he heard the soft clunk of wood hitting stone and knew what was going to happen.

"Grab the pencil!" Keane suddenly cried, unaware that he was saying anything. The teacher, obviously being interrupted, blinked and turned to face Keane. His mind slowly cleared and he could hear her soft voice.

"Excuse me?" she asked brightly. Suddenly Keane heard the soft sound of wood hitting stone and turned. All the children turned then, murmuring gently to themselves and one another. They all saw the pencil rolling gently across the stone floor . . .

Then there was uproar.

"He said, 'Grab the pencil,' and then the pencil fell -"

"Did he know that it was going to fall?"

"Did he make it fall?"

The teacher tried to calm the students down but it was difficult when she was just as confused at them. Keane had known that the pencil was going to fall. She had been told of his great abilities, but such power . . . The children were scared. Many of them had no power whatsoever, let alone a degree of the power Keane possessed. They all looked at him warily.

That was just the tip of the iceberg. Keane was beginning to experience his powers and it confused him as much as it confused everyone else. During the day he caused his teacher to panic when her chalk broke away from her hand and began to levitate. Keane didn't even realise he was doing it until she screamed quietly. Then Keane was shocked back into reality and the chalk had fallen to the ground, snapping in half. The teacher had bent to pick up the chalk, shaking, watching Keane intently.

He was able to move things with his mind and sometimes read other people's thoughts. That scared the children more than anything else, when Keane would announce something that another student had been thinking. Eventually his classmates became increasingly scared of him.

Several months later Keane was sitting in class quietly. When the teacher looked up she realised in shock and horror that Keane was crying. Silent tears were running down his young cheeks. "What's wrong, Keane?" the teacher asked, causing the other students to turn around and watch the strange boy.

Keane's eyes were blank, as if he was watching something that no one else could see. He didn't seem aware of the fact that he was crying, or that people were watching him. Shaking slightly, Keane said, "I have a little sister."

Several of the young boys smirked, trying not to laugh at the strange outburst. The teacher, however, continued to be worried and the children listened in interest. "What do you mean, Keane?" she asked. "How do you know?"

Keane trembled slightly, still staring at nothingness. "Can't you hear the screaming?" he murmured. The teacher tensed. She knew of his abilities and somehow she knew that he was experiencing something that no other child in the class ever would.

"Keane, can you hear your sister crying? Is she crying after her birth?"

"I know that my sister has been born," Keane said slowly, "but the screaming I can hear is not because she's been born, but because she has died."

~TBC~