"No, no son," Lucas pointed out, "you have to let it flow through you." He gave a sigh. "Here, watch closely." With a flick of a wrist, a warm, orange globe of flame appeared above his palm, filling the small work shop with a soft radiance.

12 year old Alex's brown eyes followed his father's every move in awe. Each pass of the luminous orb grew more and more intricate, until Lucas elongated the sphere using both hands into a long, winding serpent. Alex laughed in delight as his father took the snake and wound it into intricate knots and shapes. With another flick of the wrist, the snake vanished in a shimmer of sparks. Eager to imitate his father's feat, Alex outstretched his hand and faced his palm upward, as he had seen his father do.

Focusing intensely on the space above his hand, Alex concentrated on what he wanted to occur. With a brief shimmer of heat and a minor distortion, a small flame flickered to life. With a cry of delight, Alex quickly turned to show his dad, only to be disappointed that his lack of focus had extinguished the tiny fire he had created.

Lucas shook his head, with a small smile on its face. "Well, it was a good job for today. Come on; let's go get a bite to eat." He clasped his hand on his son's shoulder as the two headed out of the shop. Lucas gazed up into the sky as the sun slowly sank over the distant horizon.

* * * * * *

11 year old Emily finished up the sketch she had been working on. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear as she stared at the brown eyed, spiky haired boy in the scene upon her lap. While he wasn't exactly a large boy, he had a sort of a build to him that wasn't lanky, but not overweight.

"Emily, where have you been?" Emily's mother, Samantha, walked out onto the back porch where Emily sat. "You know very well we were about to eat." She perched on the side of the little pond off the back steps.

Emily moved from her spot towards her mother. "I'm sorry, mom," she apologized, "but I just had to draw this picture and get it out of my head." She handed her mother the sketchpad she had been filling with drawings of all manners. "I keep having this same dream, and every time he comes in at the very end." Her brown eyes were full of a concern. "He is always running from the bigger kids," she pointed to the drawing. "They are throwing these rocks at him, and then...ugh…" she couldn't recall the next part.

Samantha, seeing how shaken her daughter was, embraced Emily as warmly as possible. "There, now. It's okay. It was only a dream." She ran her hand through Emily's silky hair. "Now run along. Help your sisters finish the chores before we eat." She let go of her daughter and looked down at the creation of her offspring. She gazed into the deep eyes of the artwork for a long time.

A cry from her infant son broke Samantha's focus on the picture. Knowing it was time to attend to her family, she set the sketchpad in the chair Emily loved so much. As she was leaving, she turned to look back at the picture one last time: the picture of the boy with a handful of fire.

* * * * * *

Seth shook his snow white hair out as he climbed out of his makeshift alley shelter. His small frame and odd features separated him from the crowd of people that bustled in front of him, on their ways to work in the capital city of Alburodas. After being abandoned as a baby, he had grown up on the streets for the past 13 years, so he had long since shrugged off the fact he was different. Being alone for long stretches of time left him to explore and learn to survive. It had also caused him to uncover what it really was that separated him from the others.

With a small smile to himself, he pulled his bandana over his head. Producing a pair of sunglasses from a pocket, he hid his pale gray eyes behind the dark, cool lenses. He started his way out of the backwoods alley, turning towards the city limits. His clenched fists slowly opened as he continued walking, laughing at the fact that his presence would not be missed. With a last glance towards the streets, he turned and walked out of the town. The wind kicked up dust all about him, though never blowing any directly at the small traveler. And with that, Seth disappeared behind a wall of swirling sand and dust.

* * * Four Years Later * * *

Alex walked alone down the crowded noon streets of his small town, on his way back towards home. He shielded his eyes from the brilliant sun, and began to take a look around the bustling flow of people. About the same time, a group of boys roughly the same age as Alex started towards him. Seeing that the group was not exactly a welcoming committee, Alex turned quickly and started off down a narrow side street. Mimicking his actions, the group followed down the alleyway, largest of the foes towards the front.

"Hey, runt!" the oafish brute called out. "Where you in such a rush to get to, huh?" he chuckled as he picked up a stone off the ground. With a little effort, he chucked the tiny projectile, bouncing it off Alex's shoulder. "Aw, what's the matter? Did that hurt?" the mocking tone of the jerk rang off the walls. "Hey guys, lets teach this little twerp the real meaning of pain!" Soon the entire mob was grabbing stones and throwing them at Alex's retreating figure.

With a dead sprint, Alex tore out of the alley at a breakneck pace into the main square of the town. The small mob followed, chucking ever larger stones as the laughed. More and more of the projectiles found their mark, and Alex winced at each glancing impact, slowing him to a stumbling stagger. One of the large rocks found its spot square in the middle of Alex's back. Crying out in pain, Alex fell to his knees as his pursuers closed to 10 foot distance from their victim.

Shakily getting to his feet, Alex turned to face the assailants that had so tenaciously pursued him. By the size of the stones that had been cast against him, Alex judged the situation to be getting dangerous. "If just one hits me in the head, it's all over" he thought to himself. "Please guys," he pleaded, "I don't want any trouble." But his plea was to go unanswered. The goliath of a leader had picked up a brick roughly the size of Alex's head and was pushing all his weight behind it. Alex inhaled sharply as the crippling blow was sent flying true towards its target. His instincts raised his arm to block his face in a futile attempt to deflect the coming death.

But the blow that would have ended him never came. Alex lowered his arm to look upon his now cowering attackers. The gathered crowd was in awe at the events that Alex had no knowledge of. As he stepped forward, his foot ran through a pile of ash.

His eyes moved instantly towards his right hand, now clenched in a fist. Lifting it out before him, he opened his palm and focused intently on the space above his hand. With little more than a shimmer of heat, a globe crimson flames leaped into being. Although it audibly seared and hissed for all to hear, it neither burned nor scorched Alex. Instead, it seemed to radiate warmth for him and him alone to behold.

Having recovered from the failure of his attack, the gargantuan charged forward at a distracted Alex. Arms outstretched to tackle his mark, the bully was stunned to find himself stopped short of his target by some distance. His chest felt tight, so the oaf instinctively looked down. Holding him to his spot was a snow white haired boy, staring with a bloodlust into the giants eyes.