So. School's been literal hell, stress, constant work, tears, all that lovely stuff and even as I upload this right now, I have a bio lab report and a rough draft for a 4,000-word essay about dystopian literature that I need to finish before returning from the break so that's fun. I've been writing in between the chaos and have tons of stuff that needs to be edited and will then go up so that might make up for my radio silence? Kinda? But, regardless of it all, it's a new year, a new fresh start and my overall wisdom is: 1) don't procrastinate kiddos, you'll literally hate yourself as I do, and 2) never, ever join IB. If you don't know what it is, bless you, you pure, lucky bastard, and if you do, seriously buddy unless you're willing to deal with all that shit that comes, don't. Take it from moi.C'est une décision terrible que je regrette (but I'm really good at French now cause it so, I suppose there is some reward reaped from my suffering)
This is a Secret Santa gift I made for a lovely individual on Supernatural Amino, Devil, and is inspired by the novel Children of Blood and Bone (which is one of my favourite books). Enjoy my hella descriptive, comma ridden masterpiece.
Gabriel found comfort in fire. The warmth of the flames, licking his skin, curling around his fingers, dancing across his palm. It would flicker when his fingers curled inwards to crush it into his palm, whimpering and shrinking like a wounded animal in fear of being smothered. But he never did that. Instead, he just plays with the flames, watching it slink away and then spring forwards, no longer a wounded piece of prey but a vicious tiger having spotted its prey with dark hungry eyes. Gabriel would let the orange flames move up his arms, slowly, slowly, it's tongues faintly tickling his skin as it moved from his palm to forearm, stopping just above his elbow. It threatened to go higher, climb further and further, to engulf, swallow, destroy. But he never let it. Just like he never would extinguish it.
It meant no harm, had no power to turn forests to ash, bodies to a pale white bone, regardless of what others said.
He was the one with the power to make that happen, to blacken the earth under their feet, burn down entire civilizations with so much as a spark. He had the power, the ability to do so if he truly pleased. But he wouldn't.
Gabriel's amber eyes watch as the flames crawl back down his arm, having grown tired of trying to lick at the fabric of his shirt, to eat away at the material. Instead, it curled up like a cat ready for a nap on a sunny patch in his palm. Crackling softly, letting out quiet murmurs, he watches it with genuine fascination. Gabriel never quite understood the flames he could produce on his hand, how from nothing, it could be willed into something. And, with a second thought, turned to nothing again. He was far from unfamiliar with this so-called power, as it had manifested itself when he was very young, but, even now, it felt as much of stranger to it as he did when they first revealed themselves.
The only thing that had changed since then was how Gabriel viewed the ability.
As a child, he and his older brothers grew up listening to their small village lore. Elders told stories of people born with the ability to harness the elements around them, some who could command how the winds blew, other when it would rain. These people had been blessed, by the gods above them for reasons nobody - not even the Elders - knew. They carried no unique, discernible physical characteristics, nor was it impossible that a mother has all her children possess the same ability as her, or even none possess the same ability. It was not genetic, not passed on from the mother, or father, it was just luck.
"Chance," the Elders had explained to the young children. "That is how they bless you."
"What if you asked them? Like prayed to them every night for it?" Gabriel's older brother, Raphael had asked, six at the time.
Gabriel, a year younger then, had watched the Elders scoff, scolding his brother for such foolish notions. "It is by chance and nothing else. No prayers, no begging, no wishing, no magic herbs. Only chance."
"When would you know?" Michael, the eldest at eight, had asked, with his twin, Lucifer nodding in agreement.
"When you turn nine is when most people show it, although that is not to say it could manifest sooner or later in life. The gods decide when you are ready for it."
And the Elders had been right, for the most part as Lucifer, upon turning nine, had his manifestation. It had happened when Gabriel was sitting on the rug in his and Raphael's room, listening as his older brother told him a story about what he and Michael had seen in the woods yesterday. The twins had been old enough to go in the woods that surrounded their village with their father to collect more lumber while Gabriel and Raphael, still deemed too young, had to stay home. It had bothered Gabriel, so the moment he had a bit of free time with his older brother, he had basically begged him to talk of the forest. And, that was how it had started before Lucifer, halfway through his story, went silent. Then he had dropped, onto the bed like a heavy stone in the river, and Gabriel, terrified, shouted for their father while rushing to their brother's side.
The rest, truthfully, had been a blur, flashes that his mind had only partially grasped as long-term memory, the rest forgotten by time. All that is truly clear to Gabriel is that while Lucifer was unconscious for roughly ten minutes - although, at the time, six-year-old Gabriel had found it to be more like ten hours - his chest and palms had begun to glow, lit up like tiny suns were trapped beneath his skin. Then, his eyes had opened, and that same bright light escaped, filling the room to the point Gabriel had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly, and even then, he still couldn't escape the light.
But, after those ten antagonizing minutes, the trapped suns inside Lucifer had died out, his eyes falling shut, and the room was suddenly too dark.
Their father had come home at that point, to Lucifer sitting up in Gabriel's bed with wide eyes, staring at his palms, Gabriel crying on the rug.
Gabriel remembered how the Elders, after hearing everything, explained that Lucifer could control light; how Lucifer then looked at his palms in awe, pleased with himself. (The ability to control light was not very common, especially not in their village or the ones nearby. In other words, his brother was special, and Michael… Poor Michael never had a manifestation, no matter how hard he tried. Most twins would either share or complement each other's abilities. But Michael had none.)
Gabriel himself had had his at almost thirteen, far too old for most kids with manifestations. His hadn't been like Lucifer's. There was no dropping to the ground, no bright light, no nothing. Gabriel's had initially manifested as a fever, burning hot underneath his skin, flames filling his bloodstream. He had laid in bed for days, fighting off a fever that would never break, only rising, higher and higher, ready to melt the pale, sweat-slick skin off of his bones. It was only after eight days of feverish hell did it break, Gabriel passed out in bed, his eldest brothers tending over him while their father and Raphael had gone to the next village over to get a healer.
It had been Lucifer, who wiped away the sweat from Gabriel's brow, only to notice how his baby brother's fingertips were black as soot as if he had been playing with coal. Then, without a word, orange flames had sprung from his fingertips, surging across his pale skin, leaping onto his bed sheets.
Gabriel himself had had no recollection of it all, still trapped in a feverish haze, only to eventually wake from it completely to find himself drenched in ice cold water, Michael standing over him with a pale. His wide amber eyes had looked at his eldest brothers, full of fear. Soot smeared his skin and the air smelled of burnt wood.
Neither brother spoke, each speechless.
"What is the rarest ability?" Five-year-old Gabriel asked the Elders, golden eyes wide and curious.
"Many say the ability to control light, but there are others, ones who have the ability to level villages, leave trails of ash in their wake," one Elder explained, leaning in close. "Every few years, there is a child whose ability manifests so that they are able to control fire."
"Fire?" Gabriel had gasped.
"Yes. The most dangerous of manifestations, impossible to control, destroying our forests without any hesitation. Their powers were impossible to notice, going unnoticeable for so long, growing too strong until they could not contain it, lashing outwards. They destroyed many of our homes, killed the forests that protected us and gave us life… And they enjoyed it. Those in our village and those nearby agreed, they were not blessed by the gods. They were cursed, by the wicked god Melzeli.
"We call them Burners."
He had been terrified, at first, learning of his powers after hearing those stories. But over time, the fear had morphed into something else as he learned to control them, and now, almost five years later, Gabriel had learned to love his ability, to work together with it rather than try and control it. His ability was like a restless tiger, caged and beaten. You couldn't just open the cage door and approach it without expecting it to maul you. You treated it with care, with respect, and it wouldn't eat you alive. And Gabriel did. And that was why he was still here, alive.
Leaves crunch, crushed under careful feet and Gabriel's head snaps up, fist closing shut on the flames. It sputters, letting a faint hiss before being smothered and with careful eyes, he scans the forest he's in. Someone else is in it, with him. He's certain of that because he's been coming to this forest often enough to know the sounds of the deer and rabbits in the forest, how the leaves rustle when the mice run over them or whispers of birds in the trees. The only crunching of leaves comes from heavy foot beings - - humans.
He wipes his hands quickly on his pants, removing any hint of ash or dust that might reveal his ability. Then, quietly, he rises from the tree stump he had taken as his chair, waiting for the person to either reveal themselves or leave.
The crunching pauses, and perhaps, Gabriel thinks, they're deciding to leave. Then it continues, moving towards him, coming from behind. Turning around, Gabriel catches a bright light before Lucifer steps into the small clearing, a ball of light hovering over his palm.
"Gabriel. We were looking for you," Lucifer says, moving towards his brother and Gabriel lets out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, tension leaving his body.
"Luce."
Lucifer pauses. "You've been practicing again, haven't you?" He asks, catching the faint smell in the air. "And in a forest nonetheless. Gabriel, are you insane?"
Gabriel steps back, catching his brother's anger. "I was careful. I went deep enough into the forest so no one would stumble upon me. Lucifer, I'm not a child," he scoffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "I know to be careful with my abilities."
"Do you? Gabriel, just because you're the oldest Burner we know of doesn't mean you're necessarily careful about it all. As well, just because Michael, Raph and I are the only ones who know doesn't mean you're secret is safe! Even the most careful can get sloppy! You don't want to end up like that Winchester boy, do you?"
Sam had been only three when his abilities manifested, too young to even be able to fully control them.
The reason Burners were so dangerous was because it was unpredictable. The abilities didn't manifest like the other ones, it could come at any age, in any form - - like Gabriel's fever. Or Sam's horrific nightmare that caused the toddler to cry out, afraid someone was in his room and when mom came to check on her terrified child… only young Sam, his older brother Dean, and their father had survived. Mary Winchester and their house didn't.
The boys had then fled the village with their father to escape the death sentence hanging over Sam's head. One he could never escape because everyone was terrified of Burners' abilities. So they'd kill them, the moment their ability manifested, regardless of the child's age. Sam still had his, two years after the whole thing happened and if they found out about Gabriel…
"I won't. I'm smart Luce," he snapped back, eyes narrowing.
Lucifer gave him a look, skeptical. "What if someone else found you? Gabriel, this isn't some game! I don't want to come home one day and find my baby brother was killed!" The light hovering above his palm flickered as he struggled to keep his temper down.
Gabriel saw this and sighed, realizing his brother had a point. It was risky, playing with his powers even this deep in the woods.
"And if it went out of control?" Lucifer continued. "This whole forest would be set ablaze. And while your flames may not hurt you, that's not the same for everyone else in our village and those nearby," he pointed out and Gabriel uncrossed his arms, looking down at his hand.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I… I hate hiding it. I can control it, you've seen, but-"
"I know. Just, in the future, tell one of us. Mike and I would feel a little better if you were out here alone. You know we don't care for that dumb crap the Elders say."
Gabriel nods, lifting his gaze. "Okay."
Lucifer smiled. "Now let's head back. We got things to do before pops gets home."
He began to walk back the way he came, light hovering above his palm illuminating the way as Gabriel followed right beside him.
He'd prove to them one day, all of his townsfolk his powers were dangerous, that they could be controlled. Gabriel would prove them all wrong.
Let me know if I should continue with this AU cause I quite like it? As well, thank you to all of you that literally have been fav'ing and following my stories? Like I finally checked my mail and y'all are incredible.
-Twist