Liora stood in the middle of Cinderfall's harvest festival, feeling out of place. The village square was full of people laughing, dancing, and eating. Torches lit up the night, and kids ran around with sticky candy. Everyone was happy, but Liora's heart felt heavy. She was eighteen, with no family, and the village always seemed to whisper about her. Her messy black hair and green eyes didn't help her blend in.
She tugged at her old brown dress, trying to smile. Mira, her best friend, bounced over, holding two apples. "Liora, stop moping! Eat this. It's sweet!" Mira's grin was big, her blonde braid swinging. She was sixteen and always cheerful, like the sun.
"I'm fine," Liora said, taking the apple. She bit into it, but her mind wandered. She'd been feeling weird lately, like something hot was inside her chest. It wasn't sickness. It was… different.
"Come on, help me light the lanterns," Mira said, pulling Liora's arm. They walked to a table covered in paper lanterns. The village elder wanted them lit for the festival's big moment. Liora's job was to light the wicks with a torch.
She grabbed a torch from a nearby stand. The flame flickered, and that hot feeling in her chest grew stronger. She ignored it and lit the first lantern. It glowed softly. "See? Easy," Mira said, clapping.
Liora moved to the next lantern, but her hand shook. The torch felt too warm, like it was part of her. She touched the wick, and suddenly, a spark jumped from her fingers. Not from the torch her fingers. The lantern burst into flames, way too big.
"Whoa!" Mira yelled, stepping back. Liora dropped the torch, scared. The fire spread to the table, then to a pile of hay nearby. In seconds, the hay was blazing.
"Fire!" someone screamed. Villagers ran, grabbing buckets of water. Liora stood frozen, her heart pounding. The hot feeling in her chest was gone, but her hands tingled. Did I do that? she thought, terrified.
Mira pulled her away. "Liora, move! It's not safe!" They ran to the edge of the square, where people were throwing water on the flames. The barn next to the hay started to burn, and smoke filled the air.
Liora's eyes stung, but she saw a man in a white cloak watching from across the square. His hood hid his face, but he stood still, not helping. Something about him felt wrong. He held a small box that glowed faintly. Liora's stomach twisted. She'd heard stories about the Holy Order, people who hunted witches. Was he one of them?
"We need to go," Liora whispered to Mira. Her friend nodded, eyes wide. They slipped into the dark streets, away from the chaos. Liora's mind raced. The fire wasn't normal. She'd felt it come from her. But how? She wasn't a witch. She was just… Liora.
They hid behind a cart, catching their breath. Mira grabbed her hand. "What happened back there? That fire it was like magic."
"I don't know," Liora said, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean to. It just… happened."
Mira frowned but didn't let go. "We'll figure it out. You're not alone, okay?"
Liora nodded, but she didn't believe it. She felt alone, like always. The village would blame her for the fire. They'd call her cursed, like they did when her parents died.
A twig snapped nearby. Liora turned, her heart jumping. In the shadows, a tall man stood, watching her. He wore a dark cloak, and a sword hung at his side. The sword's handle glowed faintly, like embers. His eyes met hers, sharp and intense. He didn't move, but Liora felt like he knew her.
"Who's that?" Mira whispered, gripping Liora's arm.
"I don't know," Liora said. But deep down, she felt the hot thing in her chest stir again, like it recognized him.
The man stepped back into the darkness and was gone. Liora's hands shook. The fire, the cloaked man, the stranger with the glowing sword none of it made sense. But one thing was clear: her life was about to change.