CINDER FALL
Cinder Fall stared absentmindedly into the open fire in front of her. Her thoughts ran wild, like the tendrils of flame that danced around the roof of the oven, hypnotizing her like a mouse caught in the eyes of a serpent.
She was seven the first time it happened, a mere a child who knew little about the unforgiving world that she had been lucklessly born into. She knew naught about the true treachery of mankind, nor of man's countless exploits against the less fortunate to further his own selfish desires. Such dark matters had been concepts beyond of her youthful understandings.
No, back then was a time when Cinder Fall still loved to laugh. Her laughter could often be heard resonating throughout the morning air as she gleefully ran around various parts of the village, playing her made up games with the other kids her age. Back then, as a young girl, she loved fantasizing about going on wild adventures. Ones involving magic, and heroes, and saving the world from the evil forces that sought to conquer it. Back then, she had no problem dreaming of returning from those adventures, being praised as a hero to the village. Cinder was a lot of things 'back then'. How she now longed for the days of back then.
Cinder had been sulking in the meadow near her house the first time she discovered her power. It had been purely accidental, and she remembered the incident clear as day. Earlier that morning, she had gotten in trouble for picking a fight with Russel Thrush. It had started out simply enough, with the boy making rude remarks about her second-rate clothes. Normally, Cinder was a very tolerant young girl when it came to this sort of thing. She already knew that she and her mother didn't have as much money as other families did, and she had been taught well to ignore anything that people might say about it.
"Those kids just don't understand sweetie," her mother would tell her, hugging her tightly whenever Cinder would come home crying. "If they take it upon themselves to poke fun at something that they can't understand, then they're not worth your time or tears."
However, when Russel's insults about her clothes shifted to vulgar comments about her mother being too lazy to care, Cinder had finally snapped and pounced, bringing him to the floor in a flurry of fists and nails. It had taken two grown adults to drag the small, flailing girl off of the whimpering boy, but not soon enough to prevent the two black eyes and long scratch that ran from his eye to his chin. After that, Cinder had taken off running with no particular destination in mind. She somehow had ended up in the meadow, where she sat down on a tree stump and buried her face into her arms.
It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she didn't have a dad to make money for her like the other families did. It wasn't fair that she was made fun of for not having the privileges that other kids did. Nothing was ever fair.
As the first of her tears began to run freshly down her face, the first flash of fire ignited on upper side of her right forearm. It was small a small flame, but still enough to catch Cinder off guard. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the fire had flickered out, leaving a faint scent of smoke lingering in the air.
Cinder had first believed the fire to be a product of her own wild imagination, but the bright red mark on the spot where the flame had appeared as well as her singed forearm airs told her otherwise. Not knowing what to do, Cinder had run fearfully to her mother, who immediately embraced the panicked young girl when she saw the tears in her eyes. However, Cinder noticed the strange expression that her mother held. She looked down sadly at Cinder, and said in a soft tone, "Something strange happened to you… didn't it?", as if she had already known exactly what had happened.
At the time, Cinder was too young to understand why her mother had forbidden her from ever sharing to anybody what had happened.
She was too young to understand why her mother had told her that if anything similar had ever happened again, that she must hide it immediately and tell nobody.
She was too young to understand that she lived in an unforgiving world; one that seeked to hunt down any abominations that might exist in it. However, she knew that her mother loved her very much and dutifully followed her orders as she always did.
Over time, Cinder had come to discover that the fire would only appear whenever she had any strong outbursts of emotion. As a result, she began to grow more reclusive to the world, talking less and preferring more to spend her time alone. No longer was she the mischievous little ball of energy that ran around with the other kids, stirring up trouble wherever she went. No longer was she curious young girl that couldn't seem to get enough of the world around her. And as time went by, the morning airs of the village of Mistral gradually became more and more silent as it slowly lost the joyful laughter of Cinder Fall.
"Cinder, have you finished sifting the flour yet?" Cinder's mother called out from the front of the bakery. "You've been back there for nearly five minutes!" Cinder shook her head and shut her eyes, the afterimage of the oven's fire still flickering freshly on the back of her eyelids. She dusted her floury hands off on her apron and picked up the pan of flour that her mother had requested. As she began to walk out of the room, she once again thought back to that first fire that had ignited. That was the day when everything changed.
A/N: Hey guys! DataGrowth here. Leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter! I heavily base the outcomes of my writing on what my audience says about it