Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Soul ❯ Cursed ( Chapter 3 )

Fire Soul

Chapter Three

The teacher looked at Keane inquisitively, curiously. This young boy . . . the powers he had startled her. "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."

She gasped, heard herself gasp. The children around her were fidgeting uncomfortably at Keane's words, wondering what he meant. For a moment the teacher stood perfectly still, trying to take in everything that Keane had said. The young boy looked at her with grey eyes, so blank and sad, tears still running down his cheeks. She began to shake, her body trembling. Such a power, such a sad curse . . .

Quickly, without thinking, she leapt forward. Securing her hand around Keane's wrist, the teacher gently led Keane out of the classroom, leaving the children to talk nervously among themselves about what had happened. Her grip on Keane was loose and as soon as the heavy oak door closed behind them, she let him go. Slowly, hesitantly, the teacher dropped into a crouching position so that she was facing the young boy.

"Keane," she said gently, "tell me what happened. Tell me what you saw."

Keane's grey eyes were blank, distant. He wasn't there with her, he was somewhere else, watching something else. It was unnerving. Slowly the light returned to Keane's eyes and he blinked, confused. Then, noticing the teacher kneeling before him, the boy began to furious wipe away the tears that ran down his cheeks.

"Keane?" she murmured, holding his small hand reassuringly. "Please tell me what you saw." Keane looked at her slowly, such a sad look in his eyes. After a long moment of silence the teacher realised that the boy was going to say nothing. He was so secretive; it was hard to get him to open up. Was he scared? Was he confused? What was wrong?

The teacher knew that Keane's mother, Gayla Droga, was with child. Now, after Keane's claims that his sister was dead, the teacher feared the worst. Perhaps there had been complications with the birth . . . Maybe the child was stillborn . . . Her heart began to pound and once again she gently took Keane's hand, more to comfort herself than to comfort him. Nothing like this had ever happened before in one of her classes and she was worried. She had to find out about Gayla Droga immediately, but she couldn't let Keane go back into the classroom alone, not yet. The children were too scared; they might do something to him.

"Come with me, Keane," she murmured to the boy. He said nothing, nodded and followed her.

*

She couldn't understand it, she really couldn't. Keane was such a young boy and he had such great powers. No five year old she had ever taught before had ever passed the psychic test. Usually a child was eight or nine years old when they could take the card test, but here was a young boy who had not only passed the test at five years old, but he had actually named every single card, something that only the greatest wizards had managed to do. So, how could such a powerful boy . . . be so wrong?

The teacher opened the heavy door and walked out of the head teacher's quarters, letting the door swing back into place behind her. Keane had worried her so much with the talk of his sister's death. It was true that his mother had given birth, and that amazed her, but the little baby girl was in perfect health. Mother and daughter were doing fine and nothing was wrong with either of them. Why, then, had Keane claimed to have heard the screams of a dying child?

She shivered as she saw Keane's small body huddled in a large terk hide chair. The boy looked so small, so vulnerable. It was difficult to imagine that this boy had such a strong power inside of him. She herself had little power, only the ability to sense people around her, and there was no way that she could ever possible understand exactly what Keane was feeling. The boy was trembling, shaking, and there was something wrong with him. Perhaps he believed his vision; that his little sister really was dead. If that was the case then the teacher was glad to tell Keane that he was wrong.

"Keane, don't worry," she said, bending down and gathering his small body into her arms. "I know what you saw and heard must have been very scary for you, but don't worry. Honestly, your little sister is fine. There's nothing wrong with her. If you want, I'll take you to the physician after school so that you can see your mother and your little sister. Would you like that?"

She held Keane as if he was a broken doll, gently running her hands through his dark hair, but Keane said nothing. He was still trembling, and his eyes . . . That stormy grey was back again, his eyes were blank. He wasn't with her; he was somewhere else, his own world. A world of magic that had long been lost to the people of Hyrn as the powers seeped back into the earth. He could hear other voices, and they were telling him otherwise.

"Keane!" the teacher said sharply, desperate to bring him around. Slowly Keane blinked, brining the warmth back to his eyes, and he turned to look at her. Then he realised what she had said to him, that his sister was fine, and he began to cry gently. The teacher found herself crying too, still holding his body. Keane was fine, his sister was fine . . . or so she thought. Keane would never forget the terrible vision he had received, but it would be his eternal secret. The weight of the world weight down on the shoulders of a cursed five year old boy.

*

Two years past by quickly. Five-year-old Danna had long been dragged away from her beloved Par, the physician, and lived with her mother in what could be considered luxury. Danna's mother was the Queen of the Firebrands, a cruel and ruthless woman whom everyone feared. Technically Danna was a princess, the princess of the Fire people, but no one knew about her. To the Firebrands, Danna was a weapon, a creation. She was their hope in defeating the Psychics. No one questioned her mother. They were all too scared.

The only person who wasn't scared of the Queen of the Firebrands was Danna herself. She was too young to remember the events that had occurred between her and her mother two years ago, when her mother had warned her that the Firebrands couldn't love. Danna was a half cast. The blood of both the Firebrands and Psychics ran through her veins. She had the ability to love, and she did love. She dearly loved the woman she called mother, the woman whom she thought that raised her lovingly since her birth. How could she know that the curse of love was being used against her by an indifferent mother? Surely is Danna truly loved her mother, and thought that she was loved in return, she would do everything that the Queen said.

Sometimes the Queen was unable to keep up the charade of loving her daughter. The Firebrands couldn't love, they were incapable of it. Respect was the closest thing they knew to love, but with respect came rules. Danna remembered a day when she had hugged her mother and had received a sharp slap across her pretty face for it. No one was allowed to touch another person without permission, but Danna couldn't understand that, not when she loved her mother so much. The Queen found pretending so tiring, but hoped that one day her charade would pay off. Danna would become a very obedient weapon.

*

Gabriel sighed gently as he sat alone at the large oak table. He had been alone for over five years, ever since the disappearance of Reena, his new wife, the day after his wedding. He had always hoped that she would return, knowing that something important had driven her away. He knew that one day Reena would return, claiming her life, telling him why she had left and he would believe her because he loved her. Now over five years had passed and Gabriel slowly came to believe that Reena was gone for good.

At first the disappearance of his wife had evoked everyone's sympathy. Maybe she had been taken . . . maybe the Firebrands were kidnapping people. That had sent the village into uproar, the fact that the enemy may have started to kidnap the people of Hyrn. Then, however, it soon became apparent that Reena was the only person missing and eventually the others realised that Reena had left Gabriel. That was when he became pitied by some and laughed at by others. It was unheard of for two soul mates to be separated for so long.

He sighed again, wondering why she had left. It was something that he often thought about, and he never really thought of a good answer. Closing his eyes, the events of the day caught up with him. He was so tired, so fatigued. The festival had worn him out. He could feel his hand slipping out from beneath his chin and his head falling towards the hard table surface as his body fell into unconsciousness.

Then something had hit him. It was like a wave of realisation, a mental cry for help. He could hear it calling to him, an unfamiliar voice that seemed to strike his mind. Gentle fingers probed his mind, recognising him. His whole body began to tremble and he was overcome with a sense of recognition himself. His mind was fuzzy and numb, but he could hear a faint voice calling for him. He could hear the voice and he could understand suddenly whom it belonged to. One moment he had been completely alone, the next . . .

He had a daughter. The thought struck him so suddenly that he had no time to react. The voice calling to him, it was her soul. His daughter had turned five years old, and now her soul had awakened. Her soul was calling to him, and he could feel it so strongly. His daughter, wherever she was, needed him. She had awakened.

Quickly his eyes shot opened and he gasped. Gabriel had some psychic power, perhaps not an impressive amount, but he had bonded with his daughter. Their souls had called out to one another, and he knew that he had to help her. All thoughts of Reena disappeared from his mind. He had to have his daughter, he had to see her. He had to rescue her.

Closing his eyes, Gabriel concentrated. He reached out with his mind, sensing everything around him. He could sense the village, Hyrn, he could sense the great stone desert. He reached out further with his mind. It felt as if his powers were flowing across Hyrn like water, a flood, seeking out only one person from hundreds. It was seeking one girl, his five-year-old daughter, a person he only learned existed moments ago. He gritted his teeth. He could see the purple mountains in his mind and the cry was getting louder. He approached the mountains, the home of the Firebrands, and he shivered at the thought. Could it be . . .? The cry was becoming louder and clearer. He could feel his young daughter. Her features were becoming clearer and clearer. Before him was a large castle made up of large black and purple stone bricks and he knew this castle was the home of the Queen of the Firebrands. How could his daughter be here? What had happened to Reena all those years ago?

Suddenly his mind had poured itself into the castle, twisting down narrow stone corridors. He could hear the cry loudly now, desperate. The soul was crying out to him. Gasping in oxygen he realised that he had stopped breathing, was in a state of unconsciousness. Everything inside his mind was crystal clear, but he couldn't comprehend anything around his physical body. His mind turned through the castle, seeking her out. A beacon in the darkness. He was like a moth to the flame.

Then suddenly he was outside a door, a heavy oak door, and he knew that was behind it was the most precious thing in his life. He probed the door with his mind, feeling its warmth. Then he had passed through the door and was inside a room. It was luxurious, but it belonged to the Firebrands. He reached into the darkness with his mind and cried out when he felt it. A soul crying for him. It was so loud, so clear, it felt like his own soul. Then he saw her. A young girl lying asleep in a large bed, looking so small and vulnerable. He could barely make out her features, but he recognised her soul. She was asleep, whimpering. In her sleep she was calling out to a father she had never met.

He probed her with his mind, running invisible hands across her five-year-old body. Then he concentrated all his power, wrapping himself around her. He imagined carrying her, holding her small body in his arms. Then, suddenly, he could feel her weight, and he was retreating. Like a breaking wave his mind moved back through the corridors, away from the purple mountains, back across the desert of stone. He was moving backwards through the village of Hyrn as if he was rewinding. Then he was standing in front of his house, a heavy weight in his arms, no longer alone. Then he was sitting at his oak table . . .

Gabriel gasped in air as his eyes shot open. He doubled over, his lungs burning, desperately trying to breathe. Sweat coated his body, stung his eyes as it ran down his face. His whole body was shaking as he was pulled sharply back into reality.

When he could breathe again, Gabriel slowly sat up and gasped. Everything around him was the same, this was his home. The only thing that was different was a figure. Lying on his oak table was the small figure of a sleeping girl.

~TBC~