Frost Arch (2 page)

So I barely left the house. My stupid “talent” would put others in danger if I got too close to someone who wasn’t immune to the heat like my family. Well … most of my family.

So now I’m eighteen, and my “growth spurt” has finally decided to come to a quivering halt. My Powers have reached their limit, and are still as dangerous as they were when I was a child. I have gained minimal control over them during the past few years, yet there is always a slip up every now and then. My parents have mastered their fire skills, so they aren’t a threat to poor little Helena anymore.

My Helena. Ten years old and not even the slightest hint that she possesses any Power what so ever. This was terrifying for my family, not only because it was dangerous for her to be living in a house where fires often occurred, but another reason entirely.

Those who are void of Power are called Humans. Pre-apocalyptic beings that have been dying out for the past 1000 years, and are only used for one purpose. Slavery. Humans are seen as scum.

It’s easy to understand now why we couldn’t let anyone know that Helena was not showing any signs of being a Mage at all. We were positive she would be taken away from us if anyone ever found out. She would probably be forced into slavery.

No one had ever heard of someone with a Mage bloodline being totally void of Power.

We spread rumour that Helena had become fragile and sickly, so that no one would wonder why she never left our home. We told people that she was too delicate to be around anyone, and in the end no one asked questions about the matter. Helena was able to stay at home away from prying, accusing eyes. In order to protect her, my family and I had to keep her secret.

Everything seemed to be going fine for the first few months of Helena’s confinement. She didn’t mind too much, so long as she had things to keep her mind occupied. Yet my mind was far from at ease. I was getting nightmares more and more frequently now that I had to worry about Helena being discovered by the townspeople. In a small minded community like Mortlock, word spread fast and it would only be a matter of time before the Realm of Mages found out that there was a human living amongst us as an equal. Humans are probably seen as the most revolting thing to walk the earth. Insects, plague, a disease that threatens our way of life.

The Realm of Mages, also known as the Concord Keepers, maintain balance and harmony across the land. They ensure that no harm befalls a Mage, and that no Human is a threat to our way of life. It’s a widely known fact that the Realm does not tolerate kindness or acceptance of Humans. Many Mages admire the Realm, while others fear it and believe that the system is now corrupt. What used to be a community based on the well-being of others now appeared to be a group of Power hungry zombies.

This is what started the nightmares. No one ever really knows what the Realm is doing at any one time, and no one has the power to stand up to them either. If you defy the Realm then you’ll no doubt be slaughtered. My entire family, including myself faced this fate just by keeping Helena a secret.

The dreams would get worse every night. I would wake up thrashing around in my bed, the blankets alight, smoke filling the room and billowing under the crack of the door. After a few seconds I would realise what I had done, leap from my room and awaken a startled Helena, dragging her out into the cool night air before harm would befall her.

My worst dream happened when I was fifteen. The memory still haunts me. It was horrible, and the thought of what could have happened brings tears to my eyes. I woke from my nightmare and I couldn’t see anything in my bedroom. A roaring fire surrounded me, and smoke filled the room. I jumped up, screaming for my parents. Of course I wasn’t hurt. I ran to my parent’s bedroom and woke them. They were the only ones who could put the fire out with their own abilities. I ran to Helena’s room, skidded to a halt beside her bed. She was fast asleep – sweating, but still fine. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her awake. Her shrill scream pierced my ears, and I withdrew my hands quickly. When I looked down I saw that my hands had burned through her night gown, and left two red raw and bloody brands on her skin. Three years on she now has two horrible hand-shaped scars upon her shoulders. I feel terrible every time I see them. We couldn’t take her into town to be healed either – for everyone assumed she too was a Fire Mage, and of course; fireproof.

I find it hard to live with myself knowing that I had harmed my only sibling. The thought sickens me.

I could tell that my parents were worried too. I hated that I was doing this to my family. There was already enough stress for everyone, and my out-of-control Power was making things so much worse. Despair gripped me, but I had already decided what needed to be done, and there would be no talking me out of it.

It was a particularly grey afternoon when I decided to break the news to my family.

I slouched into the dining room, my hands buried deep in the pockets of my brown travelling cloak. I had left my rucksack in the hallway. I didn’t want them seeing it right away and beating me to the punch. No one looked up as I entered the room. Our cottage wasn’t large, but there was enough room for the four of us. The kitchen was small, and only featured a long counter opposite a fireplace where a pot hovered and the smell of potato soup emanated into the air. A tiny cupboard held jars of food, and stored some more pots and pans used for cooking. At the opposite end of the room was a small dining table with four wobbly chairs. The front door, barely hanging on by its hinges was close to the dining room. I had just come from the hallway, which led off to the three bedrooms belonging to my parents, my sister and myself. It was small, sometimes a little cramped, and most of the wooden furniture in the house held some kind of scorch marks upon it, courtesy of me, Avalon Redding.

I cleared my throat in the doorway, and only my mother, Anya, looked up from the pot of soup which she was tending to.

“Good morning.” She said eyeing me up and down, obviously wondering why I was dressed for travel.

My father Kenneth grunted his greeting at me without taking his eyes from a piece of parchment in his hand. He was reading something by the look of it, and was completely immersed in whatever it had to say. It looked a bit like a letter. Helena sat at the table with a lump of charcoal, her hands were black and she was drawing figures that somewhat represented people being crushed to death by an avalanche. My mother clucked her tongue impatiently, ignored the sadistic little drawing and put down a steaming bowl of soup in front of Helena and my father. She placed a bowl on the table for herself, and as usual put a fourth bowl on the table in front of my seat. My mother waved her hand in the direction of the fire, and the flames died instantly. I sighed, and this time everyone looked up at me with curious eyes.

My father now noticed what I was wearing; a brown travelling cloak and thick boots along with my usual attire.

“What’s all this?” He gruffed as he waved his hand in my general direction, clearly talking about my clothes.

My mother’s face was calm, it seemed she knew what I was going to say, yet words failed her as she opened her mouth to speak.

“It’s not cold outside today.” Helena observed, discarding the charcoal. Not that cool weather ever affected me; my body temperature was always alarmingly high. Looking at Helena I now saw that her face was covered with thick charcoal lines.

I smiled sadly and nodded, “I know.” My voice was surprisingly steady.

“Are you going somewhere?” My Father inquired, his brow furrowed as he placed the parchment he was holding onto the table top.

I took a deep breath, “I’m leaving.” I told them.

The seconds that followed were far too quiet, and it was several moments before anyone spoke. It appeared to have taken a few seconds to sink in.

My dad chuckled and dropped his gaze, “Of course you are.”

He didn’t believe me. Great, I thought, this isn’t the time for jokes.

“Where are you going?” Helena asked confused.

I opened my mouth to speak, yet my mother interrupted, “She’s wants to go the city.” She said hesitantly, “Don’t you?”

I cleared my throat weakly and discovered that words had failed me, so I simply nodded.

Helena looked simply outraged, “The city?!” She fumed, “That’s a four day walk away!”

“What do you want to go the city for?” My father asked. His tone was even though I could tell he was just as confused as my sister.

I heaved a sigh, “I need to leave Mortlock.” I started to explain, “I can’t stay here … it’s not safe. I decided a few weeks ago that it was time for me to leave before something terrible happened. I’d never be able to forgive myself if …” My voice broke off and I looked away, blinking angrily.

“How long are you planning on going for?” Helena demanded.

This was the question I had feared. How could I tell my family – my family that I loved more than anything in the world, that it was unlikely that I would be coming home any time soon?

My father must have guessed this fact. He stood abruptly and glared me down, “You’ll be doing no such thing, young lady.” He growled in an undertone.

“I’m sorry, but I have no choice. I can’t stay here and put Helena in danger again and again.” I turned to my mother, hoping that she would understand my position. “I don’t want you to have to worry about one more thing; we’ve got enough on our plate as it is.”

“Avalon, we’ve managed to keep Helena safe for the past ten years, so why would you decide to leave now?” My mother said calmly.

“Mother,” I began, my voice pleading with her, “You have to understand … I don’t want to leave, but I have to. I can’t control my Power like you and father. It’s reckless of me to stay under this roof with Helena, one tiny slip up-” I fell silent.

Helena was glaring at me and repeated her question, “How long will you be gone for?” She said impatiently.

A lump formed in my throat and I looked at the floor, scuffing my boot against the grain of the wood.

“Ava!” Helena said angrily.

“I’m not coming back!” I snapped abruptly, fire spurting suddenly from my hands. I could smell burning hair but Helena had already swatted away the flames. This was exactly why I had to leave.

She looked affronted at the very idea of me never coming back. Her mouth opened and closed bewilderedly as she stared at me.

It broke my heart to see the poor little thing getting upset. She was truly my one weakness. After all, wasn’t I leaving everything behind to start a new life, just to keep her safe from me? She might think that I was being selfish, but when it came down to the facts, it was for her own good.

“You can’t.” Helena’s voice brought me back into reality.

“Helena, I-” Words eluded me as I looked at my father. He was gripping the piece of parchment tightly in his fist, and smoke billowed from his palms centre. The parchment was on fire within a second. I bit my lip worried.

“I won’t let you do this.” My father breathed heavily. He was trying his hardest to control his mood, though I could tell the topic of my leaving was severely upsetting him.

“I’ll leave anyway.” I whispered, my eyes determined.

He fell silent and unclenched his fist, a pool of ashes falling onto the tabletop.

“I’ll stop you.” He threatened.

“I’m of age!” I protested.

“That doesn’t make a ruddy difference.”

“And what about if the Realm finds out that we’re keeping aa-” I flailed a hand in Helena’s direction and she flinched just in case more fire came her way, “They’ll find out we’re hiding one!”

My father banged his fist on the table “The Realm of Mages will not find out anything!” He was furious now. It seemed I was just making him angrier, “Don’t talk about your sister like – like she’s a-”

“Human?” I offered.

“Human’s are filth!” He scowled at me.

“And how do we prove that she is of a Mage bloodline?” I pressed on, “What if they come here to take her away? What do you think they will do to me, to you and Mother?”

“They will not discover her!”

I glared at him furiously, my whole body was on the brink of combustion, “Fine.” I snapped. My abrupt change of mind seemed to shock him for he stared at me momentarily before mumbling something about teenagers.

It was silent for a long while. I stood there in the doorway watching my family. Helena was blinking furiously, obviously trying to fight back tears. My mother’s face was serene, and my father’s face was pink. I couldn’t tell whether it was because he was angry, or if he was shocked that I wanted to leave.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of awkward silences, my mother cleared her throat and looked at me, “Sit down and eat. You’re not going anywhere.”

My bottom lip quivered, and I nodded quickly averting my eyes from her face.

“Preposterous.” My father grunted sitting back in his chair and beginning to eat his soup.

Helena turned away from me. It seemed she was too angry to even look at me. My mother was still watching me, her face perfectly peaceful.

“You know I’m right.” I began again.

I was sure that they agreed deep down that this was the safest choice for me to make, but of course no parent likes sending a child away for the safety of another.