Being three kind of sucked, though Emilie had nothing to compare it to. Every day was the same. Wake up, have mother or father bring you downstairs to eat your mush. Then sit in the corner watching mom and dad prep the store front for business.

Around the shop where lots of little things and some big things. Some were fun to play with, like the leather straps her father made, or the large swatches of cloth that made great tents. Even the jars could be fun to stack or hide things in. Her parents didn’t like it when she played with the items in the store, but what else was there to do?

The people who came in were fun to watch too. Very rarely, they’d bring children with them, and they would sometimes play together for a few minutes, before the adults left and took them away. Those people would often smile at her and sometimes even say things like “Such a cutie.”, “You’ll be running the shop one day.” And other things that didn’t really matter. Usually after all that they would leave with something her parents gave them and the people would give her parents those shiny thin stones, called coins in return. It seemed like a strange dance, and there wasn’t much for her to do but watch.

Recently, her mother had taken to pulling back and braiding her long dark purple hair. It wasn’t fun to stay seated in one place for so long, but it was nice to be close to her mother and would break up some of the boring monotony of the day. Plus, it was fun to swing back and forth, like having a tail on your head.

She had her father’s hair, that same color and hue, some said it was iridescent. A large and complex word she didn’t really understand. It didn’t really matter though, because Emilie had never seen anyone with the same color as her, so as far as she knew the two of them were unique, the only ones in her world with color. It made her feel special, and she liked that. Some people would say she had her mother’s hazel colored eyes, but that was a common thing to have, so it wasn’t as important to her.

Occasionally her father or mother would leave a book out, and she would flip the pages and stare at the shapes inside. Some were very pretty and large, some were not, she didn’t know most of them. Her father and mother would always read to her, when they had time. She had already come to recognize many of the symbols and the words they made. Like the ones that grouped together in a line were called words, and usually described something on the page. Such as this word in particular, which meant magic, and this other one that meant spell! Together, these words meant that this would be an interesting book, with lots of pretty symbols and drawings.

Some of the drawings in the books had names too. Like this one shaped like squares, meant “Metal”, another one here with the three triangles meant “Fire”, that one  with all the bubbles meant “Water”, she didn’t know what the other one on the page meant. But they were often arranged in a strange patterns that always seemed very pretty. Emilie also didn’t understand why, but some of these pictures made her feel something. Something inside, and something in her hands.

Sometimes they would make her feel warm, other times cold. One symbol made her hands wet, like she was sweating a lot. It was like magic! It’s why these were her favorite books. They were just far more interesting than the other ones filled with just words and letters she couldn’t always read.

No one would listen to her when she told them. They would shake their heads, tell she was silly that “It’s impossible.” or “You’re not old enough to cast spells.” or “You need to read the words to do that.” But she didn’t, it just happened. It didn’t matter, adults never believe children, she would just have to wait till she was grown up to prove it.

Again, most days were the same. Sitting here, looking at a book or the wall. But, occasionally something would be different. Like today!

Emilie didn’t know why there was a small pig in the kitchen covered in vegetables, or why it wasn’t moving. But it was something different, and that was interesting! Her mother said something about a party, or harvest, maybe it was a harvest party? It wasn’t like she knew the difference anyway, and a party was a party, full of food and sometimes guests.

Outside her house she could see a field of tall grass, the grownups called it wheat. It was important to the grownups it’s why they were collecting it. Except for the one large patch behind her house, which wasn’t removed like the rest. “Barren” and “left to fallow”, they said. Stanger words, even more mysterious then the symbols in her book, but less interesting.

“Emilie.” Her mother called to her the smile in voice matching her face, it was like she wanted something from her. Her mother wanted the magic book in front of Emile back. Well that was only fair since it was her parents in the first place. Shutting the book, Emilie did her best to lift it up, it was quite large and heavy, and after all she was small and light.

“Thank you. You want to come outside and watch mommy do some magic?”

It was always fun to watch her mother do magic, and she was really good at something called healing spells. But what Emilie really liked, where the fire spells her mother could cast. They were beautiful full of oranges, reds and golds, and they could get quite large.

Following her mother’s steps, they went out to the back of the house where the wheat field was. The fields had been pushed back from the house, and there was now a large space of empty dirt and a pile of logs and sticks. It was like a small badly built fort that she kind of wanted to play on. Mother didn’t like it when she made and played in forts, so Emilie would refrain from doing so today. Besides, it looked like she was going to burn it, and playing in fire was not fun.

Her mother kept a close eye on Emilie while she began to read from the book. Studying the drawing on the page, and tracing over it as the mana swelled up inside her.

“Warmth caressing though my body. Flowing through me, engulfing me. Flame and fire, burn what’s in front of me. Come forth, through my body through my hands. Strike now! Fire Bolt!” A small flick of fire shot from her mother’s hand and impacted the wood pile, igniting a burst of yellow and red color.

‘Magic!’ Emilie thought to herself as the fire twinkle in her eyes. She only got a glimpse of the picture before her mother took the book from her, but she could still remember its shapes and patterns. It was one of the simple but really pretty ones.

Even as she just thought about that large group of symbols and lines her body grew warm. She wanted to cast that spell, to do what her mother just did. Remembering the picture, that glyph in her mind, Emilie began to say the words. Maybe she wasn’t exact, but it was certainly close enough. At the tip of her small, outstretched hand, heat spread. It was hot, far hotter than she expected. A fireball, nearly double the size of her body appeared in front of her.

Seeing the glow from her child, Emilie’s mother turned screamed her name, “EMEILIE!” as if begging to stop.

It was too late though; the spell was cast. The utterly massive fire ball shot forward faster than she had ever seen, across the field of dried wheat, lighting a path of fire and flame.

It was beautiful, and utterly terrifying. Emile watched the red light and glowing embers turn into curtains of fire, right before she felt her mother pick her up and run inside.

Did she actually do that? It felt amazing, and at first awaited praise from her mother and father. She had done what they did. Any other time she had successfully mimicked the adults they would praise her, the greater the attempt, the more praise. However, as time went on, it became clear that would not be happening this time.

For the next few hours bells would ring and people would run around outside fighting to put out the fire she started. No one would talk to her, and it felt like she had done something very wrong but she couldn’t understand what.

She had copied the adults, like they always wanted. Why was that wrong this time? As she thought about the answer it came to her. It was wrong because of the fire, the fire she started. She didn’t fully understand, but that fire was a bad fire. It wasn’t like her mothers. Maybe it was bad because she was the one that did it?

Finally, her father came back and stood beside her almost refusing to look at her. Was he afraid to look at her, of her even? She wasn’t sure. “Daddy. Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know honey…” Of course, he struggled, no father wants to admit their child did anything wrong, and in truth she didn’t. It was clearly an accident. “No. You didn’t mean to do this.” Even she could see his forced smile wasn’t real as he rubbed her head.

Many hectic hours later and after the fire was put out, a tall and scary man with a scary beard called Fortus came and talked to her parents. He was angry, and terrifying. Even if he didn’t yell, his voice carried far and made her shake. Eventually he turned his sights towards her, freezing her blood like he cast a spell with just his gaze. Her body grew colder as he neared her. Even when he ducked and knelt to Emilie’s height, he still felt imposing and towering.

“Emilie, do you know what you did?” That commanding voice, that could yell without yelling shook her insides.

“No.” A bit of lie, she knew it was about the fire, but what was wrong with it?

“You started a fire. Do you know how you did that?”

The fire, the spell, of course how could a 3 year old like her not know what she did? She did something wrong, now they were all mad at her. Lying wouldn’t help her here.

“I said the words mommy spoke, and fire came out of my hand.”

Fortus could hear the sorrow in her voice. The child didn’t seem like a bad kid, just too powerful and smart for her own good.

“Emilie, can I trust you not to do that again.”

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Emilie, nodded but in truth she did want to cast that spell again, and again. But she would make sure she never lit another field on fire.

Her fear of the Fortus would only grow as her parents warned her of being thrown in the dungeon if she disobeyed him.

After that, people stopped coming into the shop for a while. It felt like forever, but after a season, they started coming back, just in smaller number. None of them smiled at her any more, none of them talked to her anymore. Her parents stopped giving her magic books for a while too. It was lonely, and it was boring.

Rarely other children would come in with their parents, but of course they weren’t allowed to play with her either. All she had, where the long and empty books full of words she didn’t know and no pictures, no magic.

A long, lonely, and boring year would pass, and Emilie would have a little brother! He was tiny, smaller than she was at his age. Her parents were protective of him, not meaning to push her away, but accidents could happen. It hurt, but she understood, they couldn’t trust her yet and she knew that.

Another day, another page in the book. After a year they had finally let her read magic books again, and she could read almost all of the words now. The incantations and spells, she knew what a few of them said, but dared to never read them aloud. At least, not intentionally.

“Babbal?” She spoke allowed trying to understand the word she was reading. “Oh, bubble.”

One word was fine, nothing would happen from one word. “Bubble bubble up…” Her hand grabbed her mouth, she had to stop herself from reading the rest of. Even though she badly desired it. Pulling her hand away, her mouth felt very wet. A few drops of sweet? No, that was certainly water, dripped to the floor.

It wasn’t a lot, but she hadn’t cast the spell so there shouldn’t be any water? Yet there was. It didn’t make sense, her mother and father said nothing would happen if she didn’t speak the words. Emilie had no way of knowing just how large and complex her own mana gate was. Neither were her parents any wiser.

In her mind, she read the spell in full speaking no words aloud, just trying to understand. Each time her hand got dripping wet, as the water drops from her fingers turned to tiny streams. So long as she didn’t say the spell it seemed manageable. It was amazing, and she wanted so desperately to show someone, but that would have been bad. She wanted to try another spell like this, to see if there was another she could do without saying anything.

Flipping the pages, she came across a really pretty, but very complicated picture. There were several water symbols, tied together in three spirals. Her mind traced the lines forming a map in her head, feeling the curves of the ink in her thoughts as the image burned into her memory. The spell had the name “Torrent”. She didn’t know what it meant, but it sounded neat. She read the spell in her mind; each word grew the water on both her hands. It grew and grew, and just for fun she said the last word that ended and named the spell, what harm could one-word cause?

“Torrent.”

It was just one word, but the water wouldn’t stop, and it grew very quickly. This wasn’t a ball. It was flood, as a torrent water began to fill the house. More and more, she couldn’t stop it. She tried to think of anything else but the water just keep pouring from that one spot, faster and faster. She moved away from it but it still bubbled up.

Her mind blanked as she panicked, how was this possible, It was just one word!

The water grew and flooded into her brother’s room and threatened to steal his crib as it floated through the room into the hallways bouncing off the walls. The water kept coming and spilling from that terrible spot where she spoke that one cursed word. Until, it just stopped.

The crib settled back down landing just outside the baby’s room. Thankfully, it had only moved it a few feet. But the house would never quite be the same as the water flowed out the front door and down into the basement and crawl space.

Again, she didn’t mean for that to happen, but it didn’t matter because it happened anyway. All from that one word. It was all her fault, she shouldn’t have done that.

The sound of panicked footsteps and a door that was slammed open without regard to its own integrity. Her parents stood in the mess and could only stare at her before screaming one word of their own.

“EMILIE!”

Another year would pass, and again life would return to normal, mostly. Her parents now pushed her outside every day. Gave her all the books she could want. There was fear in their eyes, they wouldn’t say it, they’d never say that. She knew they wanted her to be happy, so she didn’t do something wrong again.

And so, here it was that she sat. Even more alone than before outside a school she would likely not go to when summer was over.

Foosh!

A fire ball flew far into the sky and exploded into nothing. It was pretty, and the heat complemented the warm early summer’s day. A voice in the back of her mind told her she shouldn’t keep casting spells, particularly this one. But it was so easy, and something else inside her called to her. She didn’t really understand magic yet. It was all still just, well, magic.

Foosh!

There were Rumors of a dragon flying around. Would that dragon see her spells, maybe take her away from this place and fly somewhere else? It was absurd, she knew it would more than likely just eat her. Still, it was a nice dream and caused her to smile a now rare smile.

Foosh!

Another one. Someone would be by soon to tell her to stop, but she wasn’t hurting anyone. These fire balls were just going into the air, they weren’t lighting fields on fire. They weren’t flooding her house or almost drowning her brother. Just pretty busts in the air.

To be fair though, she kind of wanted someone to come by and tell her to stop. At least then they’d talk to her.

“Hi!”

Here it was. The person had finally come by to hit her head and tell her to stop. But the hit never came. Turning her head up she saw a young boy with hazel eyes and dark brown hair, about her age. It seemed so strange, how he was just smiling at her, like he wasn’t mad. What did he want?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Reese.” With his words, he extended his hand out to her like a man reaching for a drowning child.

She looked between the outstretched hand and then the small boy it was attached to her a few times. Unsure what to make of it all. Eventually, her own arm extended out in uncertainty, not knowing if she wanted to be saved or not. It shook slightly as she met his. “I’m Emilie.”

This whole conversation was so new to her. What did he want? He didn’t ask her to stop yet, was it possible he just wanted to talk to her? It seemed unlikely. Heading off her own uncertainties she asked the obvious question “Are you here to ask me to stop?”

Clearly, she was expecting him to say yes and ask her to leave, so when he said something else. She had no idea what to do.

“No! I saw your casts. They’re amazing! I’ve never seen anyone cast spells that big. I’ve been trying to learn, but, well I have some issues.” His words went fast, the excitement overflowing like a damn about to fail releasing an even larger flood.

“Oh.” Her mind was locked in uncertainty, and she still hadn’t finished processing what he said. She sat there, eyes and mind both glazed over as she considered the past minute in her head.

“Ummm. So, how do you do that?” His words, snapping her out of her trance.

“Hmm, you mean the fire bolt?”

The question was not what she was expecting. No one ever talked to her about magic or asked about it. They only wanted her to stop. It took her a minute to think about it, and how to explain it. Of course, she didn’t know about her gate yet or how it was oversized or very well ordered. All she knew was that, “I just, do.”  With a shrug she lowered he head, this wasn’t the answer the boy wanted. Yet, instead of yelling or berating her he dug through a rather crude looking book, full of lose paper.

It was mesmerizing, watching him turn page after page of strange symbols and marks, unlike any she’d seen before. Eventually, he turned to a single page.

“Do you see something like this in your head when you cast?” He handed the roughly made bindings of paper and thread, and Emilie had to carefully cradled it all, afraid it would fall apart with even a sneeze. It was nothing like the well put together books her mother and father had.

“Umm, I think so.” She studied the image, it looked like the one in her mother’s book. In fact, it was almost identical. “Yeah. This is the same drawing that was in my Mom’s book. I saw it when I was younger. Any time I thought about it, my hands would get warm.”

It was hard on her to remember the specifics. The damage she caused, the ostracization that happened because of it were still very painful. But at the same time, a part of her did want to tell her story, so she did. If he hated her after, then it would be the same as everyone else and wouldn’t matter.

“I remember later my mother was in our back field with it and said some words from the book and he started a fire. When I tried to copy them, I ended up lighting the whole field on fire. It was bad.” Her eyes started to water, it still hurt.

“I'm sorry Emile. I didn't mean to make you cry, I just…” Reese paused, the only big fire he could remember was over three years ago. His father got the whole guard unit on a water brigade.  if she was about the same age then her first spell cast would have been around age 3? “How old are you Emile?”

“I was six last fall.”

For a moment there was silence, she wasn’t expecting him to shout. “That's amazing!”

Again, excitement. She just couldn’t understand it, “Eh?”

“You know most spell casters don't cast their first spell till they’re 10 years old or later? Even the most successful magicians don't cast until they're like 7. There’s only one story I know if that's earlier than that and that guy was like 5. You’re absolutely amazing! You have to teach me.” He spoke quite rapidly, it was almost hard to follow what he was saying. But, he seemed happy?

She couldn’t help but smile back at this strange boy who just came into her young life, and seemed to accept her. For what may have been hours, felt like minutes she answered his questions and cast her spell. All the while she watched him write in his handmade notebook in that strange set of symbols that were mixed with human.

Each question seemed far deep then she ever thought about it, not that she ever really thought about it in the first place. Magic was just something she did. It was like he knew more about what she was doing then she did. Which made it all the more confusing that he couldn’t cast spells.

“You said your hands got hot when you think about this glyph?” again, he came back to that fire spell that was so similar to the one she used years ago.

“Mhm. Not hot, but yeah warm. Once…” She paused, still unsure if she should continue. “Once, I made a fire without saying any words. It just came out.”

“Were you able to do that with any other spells”

“Well, the water spells I know leave my hands wet when I think about them. Also, once I cast something really big with just one word.”

Holding her hand out, she tried casting a water bolt without words, but it just wouldn’t come out without the words, it just sprinkled down her palms. Why could she sometimes do it but not other times? She had wondered that before too, but Reese’s questions really made her ask, why? The question almost seemed to tease her as she cast another spell, and another smile crossed her lips.

“So, how does it feel when you say the words. Does the spell just come out?”

“No. When I cast the spell, I can feel something running up my body and into my arm, I think it’s what the books call mana. Each word feels stronger, until I reach the end.”

“What happens if you stop halfway.”

“Nothing, usually. Sometimes my hand gets wet and water splashes out a bit if I’d doing a water bolt, but it’s not a real water bolt.”

“And when you say it different, it’s just less strong, most times?”

She nodded. “Sometimes it doesn’t work.”

Emilie watched him write even more notes, more fantastically then before. It was fun somehow, though she wished he’d explain a bit more what he was writing.

The 6PM bell rang in distance, signaling the end of the day or at least when most of the markets closed.

“Emilie, time for dinner.” Off in that same distance, a woman called to her. Reese would vaguely recognized them as one of the shopkeepers from the marketplace when his mother took him.

“I have to go.” She paused before walking away. “I’m usually out here casting spells by myself. If you want to come by again?”

“Yeah!”

On her walk home, her feet felt light and her hands felt powerful. Someone had finally taken an interest in her and her skills. Someone who would talk to her, who wasn’t afraid of her. It was the opposite in fact, he was impressed by her. Reese was gateless, at least that what he said about himself. It didn’t make sense to her, that somebody just couldn’t cast spells. But it did explain why he was so interested in her.

She dare not say it for fear of jinxing it, but she finally felt like she had a friend. True to that thought, the two would become quick friends. Emilie finally found someone to help remove the loneliness. Maybe there would be more friends in her future? She could hope.