Smoke billowed from the windows. Cat cowered. The flames jumped up out of nowhere. They stood in a circle, like fiery soldiers protecting her. The room was completely bright orange, her eyes burned from the heat and smoke. She screamed. She tried to fight her way out. No one was home and she didn’t know what to do. She saw the window to her left and dove right through it.

She landed on the porch. The wood was hard but she didn’t care. She could finally breathe.

Just as she stumbled onto the ground in their front yard her father came rushing over. He lifted her up and placed her further away in the grass, then ran into the house.

Her father, Thomas, was a big man, mostly aged muscle. His chest was the largest part of him. He was solid yet very fast. While she had her back turned to the house there was a huge gust of wind that came out of the window, like an explosion that caused all of the dust and straw to fly in all directions. She hunched over and covered her head with her arms.

When she thought it was safe to move, she turned around and looked at the house. The fire was gone.

She didn't want to get up, but she eventually placed her hands on the grass to push herself into a kneeling position. The metal coin that she was holding in her palm released itself from her grip. Her father came over to make sure she was ok and then noticed the metal on the ground. He picked it up. "Where did you find this?" He asked. She didn't want to answer. "No, no, it's ok you aren't in trouble I just want to know where it came from." "It's not yours," she said. Her parents had several similar-looking metal objects, they were like coins but three times the size. "Phineas was playing with it, he brought it over. He forgot to take it home when he left. I didn’t notice it until after I ate lunch and I picked it up to move it so I wouldn't forget to give it back to him and then the flames just appeared.”

Phineas was the man Cat was seeing romantically. He was tall and had soft brown hair. She had been seeing him for a few months, and every weekend they would meet to walk to the city together.

“Let's go inside.” Her father said. She walked into the house, she was very embarrassed. “I feel so awful, I can't believe…” “Don’t worry about it.” He said. “There isn't much damage, accidents happen.” She looked up at him and he could tell she felt horribly. He knelt down and hugged her. “Seriously, it’s fine.” He said. She started to feel better after that, but then she realized she had many questions.

He stood back up and checked the other rooms. "Doesn't look like anything damaged in here. You just took out the kitchen." She nodded. She was really surprised that the damage was so minimal since when she was surrounded by the fire it looked like it was everywhere.

She had just finished lunch before the incident, she could see the remnants of everything on the table still, burnt crusts. She was glad that they did not store their food in the kitchen or it all would’ve been ruined. She began to clean up the ash but he stopped her and asked her to pick some items up from town.

The town was just a mile away and over the hill from her house. She lived in a pretty rural area where large open fields sat unhindered beneath the sky. There were dozens of houses scattered about, just like hers and no real land definition between them. The grass was hinting towards its brown future as the seasons started to change. It was the end of summer and the cold air was inching its way in more and more each day. It wasn’t a very drastic change since she lived in the south where it was decently warm all year round, to a visitor it was warm weather all year round but to those who lived there, they could tell the distinct difference between the few degrees that marked separate seasons.

She usually loved walking to the city, it was relaxing and she loved wandering in the fields, but that day the fire kept creeping into her thoughts.

The town was busy like it usually was at that time of day. It was just after lunch and there were many people looking to buy food for dinner. Cat's family caught most of their food but there were some supplies that they didn’t produce themselves like bread and oranges. She waved politely as she passed someone she knew. She would’ve normally stopped but she wasn’t in the mood to talk frivolously.

She made her way to the vendor she frequented. That day, like most, they had a canopy up in front with their best-selling items on display. She ordered two loaves of bread and one bag of oranges. While she waited for the man to get the items she watched everyone walk through the streets. One man was buying a wooden statue and another was buying a scarf.

It wasn’t very hot there compared to other places in the south. It was somewhat temperate. They didn’t have full winters, and there wasn’t ever snow, but it wasn’t a desert either. The average temperature was around seventy degrees. She liked the consistency but often wondered what living in a colder climate was like. She knew about snow but she had never seen it. She imagined it as a beautiful tragic hero of the sky, that tried to soothe the hot land but rather destroyed it with its fridges breath. She liked to write poetic musings about mundane things. It was a skill test. She believed that it was easy to write beautiful words about beautiful things, the real challenge was taking regular things and making them sound spectacular. It wasn’t always about the object of focus, but the words themselves. Most art was created to describe or recreate something of beauty but she liked creating beautiful art from simplicity.

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She began her journey home after she placed all of the food in her pack. She was careful to place the oranges on the bottom so they wouldn’t squish the bread, a mistake she had to correct so many times that she learned.

She left an orange out and ate it on her way back. She loved to dig her nails into it like an animal. She let the juices drip down her fingers.

She finished the orange by the time she returned home. She put the food in the kitchen. Her father said the damage was superficial, but it looked horrible. All of the flat surfaces were a shade of black. She smacked her palm down on the table to test its strength. She felt no real difference from before.

The wind blew gently through the trees as she sat on her desk that looked out her back window. She remained in her room when her mother returned because she didn’t want to explain what happened earlier. She knew her dad would gladly do that.

That night she could hear her parents whispering to each other in the hallway. She could only hear that they were taking, but not what they were saying. She tried to stay still hoping she could catch a bit any information. She was convinced that they were talking about her.

That morning her father disappeared and after she and her mother ate lunch she found out that her hunch was right. Her mother sat down with her and explained what happened the day before. She explained that the metal disc she held was what technically caused the fire to appear. "These are called a Numisma, They are for testing who has the ability to conjure our or summon energy.”

She looked at her with a confused expression on her face. "What?" she asked. "This attached itself to your power and let you release it." "wait, I started the fire with that?” She asked. "That makes sense, the coin bit, that's why Phineas had it, he's been trying to see if he had any elemental energy to help him get into school sooner.” “The only way to summon the power if you are untrained is through one of these. That’s why when you picked it up you reacted so strongly." She looked at her hands. So i have elemental energy?" She asked "Yes." Her mother answered.

Elemental energy was the rarest purest form of energy expression, followed by several others she didn't know much about. She suspected her parents had similar abilities, there were things she witnessed that were odd. Her parents tried to keep their abilities a secret within the house but in the span of sixteen years, it was impossible to be diligent all the time.

The palms of her hands were singed and ashy. "Can you do what I did? She asked. Her mother answered. "Sort of. My skills are generated the same way but are a bit different. That’s why your father left, he’s bringing back the headmaster from the academy to test you.” What?” She said completely shocked.

She had been studying to attend the Academy of Vasti. The academy was the most elite school in the kingdom. There were three ways that a student could get in, Through Knowledge, Power, or Strength.

Knowledge gave an in, to anyone with exceptional learning ability and retention for information or had the desire to learn. Power was of course for anyone who had abilities that were fueled by energy and could reach beyond the scope of the average person. The last branch was strength. Strength was for anyone that had advanced abilities regarding war tactics or sword fighting.

Cat heard about the school from her grandfather, he went there and so did both of her parents. She didn’t know she had any abilities that would be applied under the power category, so she spent her time studying for knowledge and training in sword fighting so she could get in when she turned 16. Her boyfriend, Phineas, was training to go also. They didn’t train together but they did talk about if they both were accepted and that they would travel to the school together. He put all of his faith in his sword-fighting abilities. He considered himself a master swordsman. She always wanted to go against him to practice but he never agreed to it.

Two days later her father returned with the Academy of Vasti's headmaster, Menthom. As soon as they rode into town the word spread quickly and young people began to prepare themselves, in case they had the chance to be tested.

Methom had been the head of the academy there for many years. He was a tall dignified looking man, he had dark skin, brown eyes and wore a vest and blue cloak. They amassed a crowd in their neighborhood because he was there. A group gathered right on the road outside their house.

They entered the house and he apologized for the attention. “I’m sorry, this happens sometimes. I try to keep a low profile these days but sometimes it's unavoidable.” Her dad laughed. “We know, it’s no problem.” Catherine stood in front of him, they shook hands. Catherine had just finished eating lunch and was holding a cup of tea. She offered him some and he declined.

The four of them went for a walk to an open abandoned field behind her house. The grass was brittle and tan, long ago dead. The crowd, of course, decided to follow, the younger members were not yet bold enough to ask for time with the headmaster, but they hoped to work up the courage. Most children dreamed of being accepted into the school and they were excited to see a live admittance test.

Catherine and Menthom stood facing each other. He pulled out a metal disc and held it in his hand with his palm to the sky. Put out your hand he said. She obeyed. They watched her, but nothing notable happened. She began struggling and it looked like she was trying to get angry. Her father interjected, "it’s ok if you can’t conjure anything, no need to force it." "Run," she said quietly with a very strained voice. That’s when they realized she wasn’t trying to summon something, she was trying to hold back the hurricane that was about to appear.

Menthom grabbed her parents' hands and teleported them to the hill where the crowd was.

Catherine released the energy, and it was breathtaking. Flames danced up violently surrounding her completely. An explosion, that fanned outward in all directions.

The flames continued to climb. They could see her silhouette amongst the flames. She fell to the ground. Menthom waved his hands and the fire disappeared.

She lay on the ground for a moment. Her parents ran to her.

Cat are you alright? Her mother yelled. Catherine sat up quickly. The crowd was visibly shocked.