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Strange things always seemed to happen to me. The time I melted all the frozen meat in the orphanage freezer, the time I had accidentally set a tree on fire in the yard. Whenever I didn't want to attend school, I could always gain an atrocious fever, and yet feel no symptoms at all. Children avoided me. They were scared of me.
The "last straw" for Ms. Milgrim was probably the time I had accidentally set a boy's clothing on fire. Of course, Conner said he didn't feel anything, but the sight of a child submerged in flames surely spooked the caretaker. She had grabbed my arm, frantically called the fire department, and shoved me onto the back doorstep, all the while Conner yelling that he didn't feel anything. I had no idea when I was to come back inside, and I didn't dare to go in and ask.
The sun began to set, and I could see a small pinprick of light dancing in front of my eyes. Was I hallucinating? The small light grew into an orb, and then the light spread out. A small, silver owl stuck his head out, and then said, “Are you Emma?”
I gasped and jumped back, trying to get back into the orphanage door, but it had been locked. Fire danced before my eyes. Stunned, I turned back toward the owl, suspended in midair, and said, “Y-yes. I’m Emma.”
“Emma Icetalon?”
“I don’t know my last name,” I said quietly, looking at my chafed palms.
“Come with me,” the owl said simply. “You will find happiness where we are going.”
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“No,” said the owl, chuckling quietly. “You are not dead. You are a Wizard.” Before I could take it in, he continued, “You have a great destiny in Wizard City. But before you can fulfill that destiny, you must come with me to Ravenwood School of Magical Arts.”
I turned toward the orphanage door. Conner had stopped yelling now. Trying to suppress a smile, I took hold of the owl’s outstretched wing. All of a sudden, we were inside the light, and what looked like a tornado raged around us. Soon the storm stopped, and I was inside a dimly lit office.
“Hello, dear Emma,” said a weathered voice. I turned and saw an old man, holding a book in his hands. He simply handed the book to me. I looked.
What type of Wizard shall you be? Answer the questions, and you will see…
“Consult the Book of Secrets,” said the man. I turned. I answered the questions in my mind, and a small flame danced across the page. “FIRE” it said simply.
The man clapped his hands. “You are a pyromancer,” he said. “They are one of the main powers. I was not a pyromancer, but used it as my secondary school. It was very powerful, and is lived on in the spirits of Wizards. Like you.”
“There are more?” I asked.
“Yes,” said the man. “Go and find Ravenwood. They are just beyond this office.” He gestured toward the door. “Enroll in every class you can find. First, go and find Professor Falmea. She is your primary school teacher.”
“Thank you…” I didn’t know his name.
“Professor Ambrose. Headmaster.”
I turned, and left my life of the orphanage behind. I received a wand from Professor Falmea, a wooden braided one with a small bead of fire at the end. I waved it, and sparks flew out.
I was a Wizard. | | | | |
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