14. Ignatius

14

IGNATIUS

Adelaide leaves the dining hall, her long black hair swinging behind her as she strides away. I smile as I savour the lingering heat of our encounter. She's certainly not what I expected - and that's saying something, given the rumours swirling around MistHallow about Randall Black's mysterious daughter.

As I make my way back to my table, I replay our conversation in my mind. Her quick wit, the sharp retorts, the way she didn't back down or simper at my flirtations like so many others do. It's refreshing. Intriguing.

I settle into my chair, absently conjuring a small flame in my palm. The fire dances between my fingers, a reflection of my restless thoughts. Adelaide Black. A force to be reckoned with in her own right, regardless of who her dad is.

The warmth of the flame is an extension of my skin, a comforting sensation that's been with me since I first discovered my abilities. I'm a fire elemental, but not just any run-of-the-mill pyrokinetic. No, I come from a long line of fire wielders, my bloodline tracing back to the ancient shamans who first learned to harness the raw power of the flame.

I close my fist, extinguishing the visible flame, but the heat remains, coursing through my veins like lava. It's always there, a constant presence that both comforts and drives me. Some days, it feels like my skin can barely contain the inferno in my soul. Those are my more… erratic days. Some might call them destructive.

But it's all down to nature versus nurture.

Growing up in a remote community hidden deep in the Australian Outback, our clan, the Emberkin, has lived there for generations, honing our abilities and keeping our existence secret from the outside world. I remember the first time I called fire to my hands. I was barely five years old and already showed more potential than many adults in our clan.

The elders were thrilled. They saw me as the fulfilment of an ancient prophecy, the one who would lead our people into a new age. But with that excitement came pressure and expectations that sometimes felt like they would crush me beneath their weight.

I flex my fingers, feeling the familiar tingle of heat just beneath the surface of my skin. Even now, thousands of miles away from the sun-baked earth of my homeland, I can still feel the connection to my roots, to the primal force of fire that has shaped my people for millennia.

Adelaide's parting shot - calling me ‘firestarter' - brings a wry smile to my face. If only she knew how apt that nickname really is. I'm not just someone who can create and control fire; I am fire incarnate. The flames respond to my will in ways that even other elementals find hard to comprehend.

I glance down at my arms, tracing the intricate patterns of my clan tattoos with my eyes. To the uninitiated, they look like simple tribal designs. But each swirl and line are a conduit for my power, enhancing my control and allowing me to push the boundaries of what should be possible with fire manipulation.

With a thought, I activate one of the tattoos on my forearm. The ink comes alive, glowing with an inner light as warmth spreads through my arm. Suddenly, the air around me shimmers with heat, and I know that if anyone were to touch me right now, they'd recoil from the scorching temperature of my skin.

This is just one of the many abilities I've honed over the years. I can raise my body temperature to near-impossible levels, create and shape fire at will, and even imbue objects with fiery energy. But perhaps most impressively, I can absorb and redirect heat and flame, making me immune to fire-based attacks.

Of course, these abilities come with their own set of challenges. Controlling such raw power requires constant focus and discipline. One slip, one moment of unchecked emotion, and I could easily set the whole campus ablaze. It's a responsibility that weighs heavily on me, a constant reminder of why I need to keep my true potential hidden, and why the clan elders sent me to MistHallow.

I lean back in my chair, letting my gaze wander around the dining hall. The other students, even the other fire users, have no idea of the inferno that rages within me. To them, I'm just Ignatius, the charming, flirtatious fire elemental with a knack for impressive but ultimately harmless flame tricks.

It's a role I play well, a carefully constructed mask that allows me to blend in while still standing out just enough to satisfy my ego. But encounters like the one with Adelaide have unearthed an emotion in me that I didn't think was possible: the need for someone who can see past the act and appreciate the true depth of who I am.

I close my eyes, focusing on my inner fire. With each breath, I can feel it pulsing, growing, spreading through my body until I'm filled with a comfortable, all-encompassing warmth. This is my centre, my true self. The fire that burns eternal, that defines who I am at my very core.

When I open my eyes again, the world seems sharper and more vivid. My enhanced senses, another gift of my elemental nature, kick into overdrive. I can feel the subtle variations in temperature throughout the room and see the faint heat signatures left behind by those who have passed through.

It's in these moments when I allow myself to fully embrace my nature that I feel most alive. The power thrumming through me, the heightened awareness of the world around me—it's intoxicating. But it's also isolating because how can I ever truly connect with others when I have to keep so much of myself hidden away?

With Adelaide's arrival, I can't shake the feeling that things are starting to fall into place. There's something about her, something beyond her quick wit and obvious beauty—a power, perhaps, or a destiny that's intertwined with my own in ways I can't wrap my head around.

But I know it.

I stand up, ready to head back to my room. As I walk, I let a bit of my power seep out, raising the temperature around me just enough to make the air shimmer. It's a small indulgence, a tiny release of the constant pressure of containing my true nature.

Back in my room, I shed my carefully maintained public persona. Here, in the privacy of my own space, I can truly be myself. The walls are lined with fire-resistant materials, a necessary precaution given my tendency to literally ignite when my emotions run high.

I move to the centre of the room and close my eyes, focusing on my breath. In and out, each exhale carrying a wisp of smoke. I feel the fire within me, always burning, always hungry. With a thought, I let it out.

Flames erupt from my skin, engulfing me in a cocoon of fire. But I feel no pain or fear. This is my element, my true form. The fire dances around me, responding to my will and shaping itself into intricate patterns and forms.

I open my eyes, watching the play of light and shadow on the walls. This is the part of myself I can never show to others, the raw, primal power that defines me. It's beautiful and terrifying, a constant reminder of my potential and the responsibility that comes with it.

As the flames recede, sinking back beneath my skin, I move to the window, looking out over the moonlit grounds of MistHallow. Somewhere out there, Adelaide is trying to find her place in this world of magick and mystery. Our paths are destined to cross again, for better or for worse.

I'll keep watching Adelaide and keep trying to unravel the mystery that surrounds her. Not just out of curiosity or attraction, but because I have a feeling that she's going to be key to whatever is coming.

And whatever that something is… it's big.