Salah woke up with fire in her hands. Deep despair shot through her. She blew it out and lay perfectly still, hoping no one had seen it. She breathed in deeply, trying to still her breath. Two days before her twelfth birthday, the day she would walk free again. Maybe she could hide it.
“You have magic.”
She wanted to scream. Ralin. Why the hell did the gods wake up Ralin the Horribly in time to see the awakening?
“You were dreaming. Go to sleep.”
“You have magic, I will tell on you and get rewarded. I might even earn my freedom.”
The door slammed open and a gnarly figure appeared. “There better be a good reason for this!”
“Salah has magic!!!”
Rapid footsteps approached. “Is it true?”
Salah wanted to deny, but the fear brought the fire back. It soared so high above her hands that it touched the ceiling.
“Good girl, we have wanted to have a fire demon for so long.”
Gnarly, rough hands peeled her from the bed and carried her out of the room. Salah shrieked. A gnarly hand covered her mouth. He put her in a room. “This room can withstand any flame. By the time you are done with the temper tantrum, we will start training you. The world will finally burn.”