Book 1: Arya - Chapter 1: Birthday Fire (Patreon)

12 huge dragons circled a huge castle, the castle felt and looked ancient. Heat from the raging fire washed over her skin, and as the dragons roared as one, she woke with a gasp. Arya jolted awake breathing hard, she looked around her room it was its usual grey self, she jumps when she hears a sharp tapping sound on her door

“Arya, get up girl,” barked Geraldine

Arya groaned, a lay back on her thin bed, she’d been dreaming about dragons again, it was the same dream she’d had every night since she could remember,

Geraldine rapped on her door again, “Get up,” she shrieked

“Yes Geraldine,” said Arya

Arya rolled out of bed, shivering as her bare feet touched the cold floor and the 7 year old girl padded to her bathroom and looked in the mirror, once again her appearance remained as unusual as she was, fair skin, snow-white hair with golden streaks and eyes as purple as a summer storm. Her gaze was drawn to the reflection of the Jewel she wore around her neck, a brilliant, perfect seven-sided diamond, it was the only thing connecting her to her mysterious past, although a part of Arya was surprised the Grumpachs had allowed her to keep it. She ran her fingers over it, as always it felt cool and hard, briefly the image of a white-haired woman flashed before her eyes, but the memory left so quickly Arya wondered if she had just imagined it.

“ARYA,” bellowed Geraldine, causing Arya to jump

“Coming,” said Arya quickly throwing on her grey school uniform and shoes, she’d grabbed her school bag and went downstairs.

Entering the dining room she noticed that Dennis, along with several other orphans were already sat around the table.

“Happy birthday Dennis,” intoned Arya reluctantly

“Thanks freak-girl,” said the 10-year-old snidely

Arya sat down at the end of the table and took a piece of toast, she grimaced as Geraldine dumped a pan of freshly cooked bacon on the table. Arya had never been able to explain why but the smell of meat or fish seemed to make her stomach roil and rebel, it was yet another thing that made her different.

“No juicy bacon today, hey freak,” said Dennis sneering

Arya sighed, “No thanks,” she muttered

“Probably for the best, freaks like you don’t deserve proper food,” snickered Tom, one of the other orphans and Dennis’s friend,

“Morning birthday boy,” said Walter Grumpach jovially greeting his son

“Thanks Dad,” grinned Dennis

Walter eyes Arya, “Do try to stay out of trouble today,” he growls

“Yes Mr Grumpach,” said Arya tonelessly

Arya’s gaze was drawn to the small TV which was displaying a BBC news feed, it was showing the latest immortal rebellions. It had been 15 years since immortals had been freed from slavery by mortals but many immortals still seemed to hold resentment over the 150 years of thraldom they had suffered. The news feed showed a female newscaster reading a story about an attack on a military base in Germany.

Walter noticed the news feed and snorted “Bloody freaks should be grateful,”

Geraldine looks up and nods in agreement “Should have kept them in the cages”

Arya couldn’t explain it but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of solidarity with the immortals, the screen showed a grainy image of CCTV footage showing red-haired woman set fire to a building with a single blast of fire from her hands.

Geraldine's voice snapped Arya out of her reverie. "Get those daydreams out of your head, girl, and MOVE!" The woman thrust a worn lunch bag at Arya, the smell of stale cheese making her stomach churn slightly. Arya bit back a retort, grabbing her own bag and swinging it over her shoulder. She felt the jewel subtly press against her chest, a small warmth momentarily comforting against the chill of the room.

The walk to school was a gauntlet. Dennis and his crew marched ahead, Eleanor and Lily's giggles carrying back on the breeze. Fragments of whispers reached Arya: "...freak...", "...weird eyes...", the same taunts, a familiar ache. They reached the school gates, Mrs. Browne's scowl a mirror of Geraldine's.

"Late again, Arya," she barked, lips pursed in disapproval.

Arya lowered her gaze, the jewel feeling oddly heavy against her chest. To argue was useless, Geraldine’s whispers in Mrs Browne's ear always louder than her own.

As Arya slipped into the classroom, a familiar wave of unease settled upon her. Every desk, every whispering group, seemed to whisper of her oddness. Joanna and Annie, their shared smirk as sharp as any weapon, slid into the seats behind her.

"Nice hair, freak," Annie hissed, her fingers brushing Arya's snowy braid. Arya held her breath, nails digging into her palms. Retorting was pointless - a lesson hammered into her by too many scoldings. Yet, under the insult, something in her thrummed with a strange, unfamiliar heat.

A sharp clatter broke her focus. Joanna, her grin wide, had swept Arya's pencil case to the floor. "Whoops," she feigned innocence, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

Mrs. Browne's glare pierced the air. "Arya, always causing trouble. Tidy that mess immediately."

The familiar sting of injustice mixed with something else - a flicker of defiance Arya couldn't quite name. Joanna and Annie snickered as Arya knelt, the worn linoleum cold beneath her knees. But her pencil case wasn't there.

A frown creased Arya's brow. She scanned the floor, a rising tide of confusion washing over her. Had it rolled further? Then, a glint caught her eye. The pencil case rested squarely on her desk, as if it had always been there.

Her hand hovered above it, skin prickling with an odd sensation. Could Joanna have put it back as a prank? But she'd been watching Arya with smug delight when...

"Well? Don't dawdle, girl!" Mrs. Browne's voice snapped her back to reality. Arya swiped the pencil case, the faintest whisper of warmth lingering on the worn plastic.

The morning passed agonisingly slowly for Arya, she barely listened as Mrs Browne droned on about multiplication tables.

“Ow,” muttered Arya as something hit the side of her head, she turned to see Joanna smirking, reaching up to the side a face Arya pulls off a spit wad, scowling Arya felt a deep feeling of annoyance towards Joanna,

The school canteen was a battlefield of noise and jostling bodies. Taking her usual seat at an empty table, Arya unpacked her lunch. The familiar, oppressive scent of the corn beef sandwich hung heavy in the air. Her stomach twisted, a wave of nausea threatening the meagre breakfast she'd managed. She nudged the sandwich aside, focusing on the apple and crisps.

Even the crisp's cheerful crunch couldn't drown out the whispers. "Freak-girl, eating alone again..." Laughter echoed as she peeled her apple, the red skin mirroring the unfamiliar warmth that still prickled beneath her own. Why did meat trigger this? It was one more thing that set her apart, one more secret to hide within this life that felt so wrong.

A shadow fell across the table. Dennis smirked, tilting her juice carton with a deliberate air. "Can't even stomach real food, can you?" A flick of his wrist, and the orange liquid splattered her sleeve.

"What're you gonna do, cry on me, freak show?" Dennis sneered, his finger a relentless prod against her skin. The words felt like acid, burning away her last shred of restraint. The familiar heat swelled in her chest, but this time it thrummed, a relentless drumbeat urging her to fight back.

"Leave me alone!" The words tore from her own throat, the force of them surprising both Dennis and herself. He merely blinked, that smug grin shifting into an ugly scowl.

"And who's gonna make me?" His attention zeroed in on Arya, who stood frozen. The heat clawed its way up her arms, and a strange, unbearable pressure built behind her eyes. It screamed for release, fueled by every sneer, every taunt, every desperate desire to make this feeling stop.

‘I wish he’d leave me alone’ thought Arya,

Suddenly, the fountain beside their table erupted. Water slammed into Dennis with enough force to knock him off his feet. His cronies scattered, eyes wide, as another fountain exploded, then another. Screams filled the air. Trays skidded, teachers shouted unheard orders. Water coated everything, erasing Dennis's smugness with a look of shocked fury.

And through it all, Arya felt a surge of something…else. The heat was a wildfire within her, singing in her veins. It wasn't rage anymore, but an almost intoxicating sense of power.

Before anyone could react, she bolted, leaving the pandemonium behind. Her feet carried her on instinct toward the library, its quiet stacks a promise of shelter from the storm within and without. And somewhere beneath the fear, a flicker of impossible hope ignited. It was frail, easily extinguished, but it was there.

The library's hushed silence was a balm against the chaos of the canteen. Arya sank into a worn armchair, the familiar scent of old paper and dust a strange comfort. Her fingers traced the embossed title on the book she'd snatched on instinct: Alice in Wonderland.

Alice, lost in a strange world...it was a fitting metaphor for her own life, especially today. Images flashed through her mind: Dennis's face contorted in shock, fountains defying gravity, her own heart pounding like a war drum. What had happened? One moment she'd been the usual target, the next…

She closed her eyes, searching for that fiery surge that had filled her. But it was gone, replaced by a dull ache behind her temples, a hollow echo where that wild energy had roared. Fear mingled with confusion. Was it a fluke? A momentary madness brought on by too many taunts?

Arya was suddenly pulled out of her internal musings by Dennis marching into the library, covered in water and food, Mrs Webster the librarian almost fainted at the sight of him throwing water on her precious books,

“What was all that about freak,” demanded Dennis

“I don’t know what your talking about,” said Arya stiffly

“That stunt with the fountains,” said Dennis fuming

“How am I supposed to know,” demanded Arya, “I had nothing to do with it,”

“Yeah right,” snapped Dennis, “Do you think I’m stupid or something,”

“Uh yeah,” retorted Arya, “Everyone thinks your stupid mate,”

“Shut up,” snapped Dennis, “I’m telling Mum and Dad about this,”

“Knock yourself out,” Arya snapped back

At that moment both children looked up as Mrs Browne entered the library

“What is all this racket about,” she barked, “This a quiet study place,”

Dennis quickly seized the moment, “Arya called me stupid,”

“Well did you Arya,” demanded Mrs Browne,

“Yes but only because he…” began Arya furiously

“Enough, I don’t want to hear excuses,” said Mrs Browne angrily

However Mrs Browne’s lecture became drowned out in Arya’s ears, replaced by a roar and a heat which started in her chest and began to grow and grow, she saw a flame dance before her eyes, and then a scream. Arya jolts out of her thoughts and looks around to see the library on fire, the fire alarm was screeching above her head, she turned and she could see Mrs Browne and Dennis looking at her in horror, the flames danced orange, red and white and when they came close to they washed over her skin like warm water not burning but invigorating.

However Arya knew instinctively that she couldn’t stay, without thinking to hard about the consequences, Arya picked up her school bag and bolted for the emergency doors.