A Collection of Fantasy and Science Fiction Short Stories - Special ...

cold months. Not only that, but I have to heat bathwater as well, and I do most of the
woodcutting myself. At least this time he called before the room could get too cold.
I sit and watch as the logs slowly begin to catch fire, the orange light flickering
and growing brighter as it climbs up the edges of the wood.
“Oh, Saran, you’re still in here? Shouldn’t you be done already?” Aken asks.
I can feel him behind me hovering like a ghost. His voice makes me want to
cringe. “I’ll be done in just a moment, sir.” I had wanted to make the fire like a normal
non-magic human, but of course Aken wouldn’t want me sitting around here while I
could have it done in the blink of an eye. So, despite my wants, I stand up and brush off
the front of my dress and apron even though they aren’t very dirty at all. Stretching my
palm out towards the wood, I take a deep breath and release it slowly. I can feel the
energy in my arm, warm and tingling as it moves out to my hand, getting hotter and
hotter as it travels. A jet of red hot flames streams from my outstretched palm and crash
into the wood. I keep the fire stream going for three heartbeats until I feel that they have
grasped the wood and begun to burn on their own.
There is light applause behind me and I turn to regard my young master and his
guests. Aken is clapping the loudest so they must only be copying their host in an effort
to appear polite. They are dressed in fine clothing, so I don’t see why they would find my
firemagic remarkable. Each of them probably has a firemaker in their servant staff or pay
for a temporary one during the winter. I glance at Aken who’s smile is too wide as he
walks toward me. Was I their entertainment? Was he expecting me to bow?
“What a wonderful gift you firemakers have! Thank you Saran.” Aken tries to put
his arm around me but I step away at the last moment and head towards the door.
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