Fireborn

was the screams.
But wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. That’s the end of the story. Let me start at the beginning.
That night started with a balance. A balance of cold night air and warm dragon skin, a balance of silent night and giant flapping wingbeats, a balance of death and life.
My name is Maenna, and I’m Fireborn. Fire is to me what water is to most; life, death and just about everything in between. Even as I sat on the back of Ator, I could feel the fiery potential roiling in his belly, a potential mirrored in my own. At the mere thought, the fire danced up the back of my hand, a twirling pattern of red and gold.
I shook it off, and turned my eyes instead forward toward the lights of the city before me. Aenvarris, the capital of the Myrrian Empire, the city that used to be my home. Before everything went awry, before it was exposed to everyone what I was, before my father shunned me publicly, and instructed everyone else to do the same, it was my home. It was the city of fountains and of lights, of dinner parties and grand balls, dark alleyways and rickety huts, lonely people and destitute children.
It would all be over tonight.
As the city grew larger in our sights, I lit my hand like a torch, stuck it up in the air, and let it drop like the flags at the jousting tournaments my father would hold with his lords. All six of us pushed our dragons into a dive, and we screamed like midnight arrows toward the unsuspecting city.
Minutes later it was chaos. We dove, again and again, setting everything on fire, our dragons vomiting great gouts of flame. People were running everywhere, and no one was getting anywhere. We pulled up, and waited at the King’s Balcony. We waited for him to come out, to meet us, to meet his burning capital.
He did. He looked into my eyes, and nodded. “This is it then, your revenge? Killing hundreds of innocent people?”
“They’re better dead than under your rule,” I snarled back at him. He simply stared at me, an eyebrow raised. Uncooperative, as expected.
I signaled to Thaeo behind me, and the King-Emperor of Myrria found himself pinned helplessly against the wall by an invisible force stronger than he could overcome. I stepped off Ator’s neck, and onto the balcony, weaving together a small coil of flame between my hands. Approaching the immobile man, I spoke.
“This is what got me exiled from all that I had known. This. Why?” He didn’t respond. I let the edge of the flame tickle the soft skin under his chin, burning it just slightly. When he still didn’t say anything, I came closer. Then he spoke.
“You were a danger to everyone around you. Look what you’ve done to this city.”
“What happened to this city is a retaliation of those who have been given gifts, and were cast out. These people behind me, they all came from this city. They were all exposed and exiled. Because of your law, that ‘all those born with unhuman abilities must be exiled.’ I always wondered why.” I moved the flame to touch the flap of the tunic that lay over his heart. It started eating at it, slowly but surely. “Anything you’d like to tell me?” He stayed silent. I burned the tunic until his chest lay bare in the moonlight. There, for everyone to see, lay a birthmark. A raindrop.
I hissed at him. “You’re one of them. How could you sentence them, me, to a slow, suffering death?” He avoided my gaze, but spoke softly. “I was afraid of them finding me. If I made all of ‘them’ as you call it, my personal scourge, no one would suspect me of being one.”
I seethed. How could he. I looked at him, and knew what I had to do. He was older, but unpracticed. I had been using my gift freely for the past three years, and no one could do it like I could. I shaped my coil into a smoking hot brand in the form of a tongue of fire.
“Let this serve as our reminder. We are stronger than you, and growing stronger still.” I pressed the brand into his chest, just beside his birthmark. I ignored the smell of burning flesh, and the strangled sounds coming from his mouth. I pulled back, turned around without another word, and mounted Ator once more. Thaeo gave the now nearly unconscious king one more squeeze, then let him drop.
We hung over the burning city for just a little longer. The only sound that was audible over the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the walls falling down was the screams. We turned around and headed for home, leaving behind a brighter city than before, and a rising column of smoke.