I've always had a thing for water. I would spend hours in the tub just letting the water run through my fingers. While the other children cowered in fear of thunderstorms, I watched in rapture. The feel of rain was soothing, and I could always smell when a storm was coming.
I've also always had a thing for fire. The colour of a flame was a thing of beauty. The way it moved and danced captured me, and I could get lost in the flickers.
Unbeknownst to me, my mother was a Water Warden, and my father a Fire Warden. They were tickled pink when they saw my affinity to their elements, and waited on anxious feet until I reached the age my powers should've activated at. My love of water and fire should've been significant when I hit puberty, but it wasn't.
I had no powers.
My parents were devastated, and I didn't understand what I'd done wrong. Years passed and in my mid-twenties, my parents were struck by lightning in my driveway. My mother was killed instantly, but my father managed to slip me a small glass bottle before he too slipped away.
He said, "Guard it with your life. He will come when you call. Repeat yourself by three."
Needless to say, I thought my dad was just raving in his final moments, but everyone feels the need to respect a final wish, even if it sounds psycho. I had no idea what it really contained, and frankly, I can tell why my dad didn't mention the contents to me.
I would've never opened it.