Marked By Flame

TheAwakening

I opened my eyes to flames.

They curled along the floor like ribbons of living light, orange and red and

flickering like they had minds of their own. My breath caught. I didn't feel

heat, no smoke choked my lungs, but it was real. I could see it-fire licking

up the bedpost, dancing in slow circles around me. It should've burned. It

didn't.

I wasn't screaming. That's what scared me the most. I just sat there, heart

pounding, frozen in my thrifted sheets with my fists clenched like maybe

that could stop whatever this was.

And then I heard it.

A voice-not loud, but low. Ancient. It sounded like wind cracking through

stone.

"Awaken, flame-bearer."

I jolted, every hair on my arms rising. I spun around, expecting someone-

anyone-behind me. But there was no one in the room. Just the soft hum of

the radiator and the kind of silence that presses in on your chest. I glanced

down at my collarbone. That's when I saw it.

The mark.