"It's so bright."
"Is that fire?"
"I'm feeling it, but my hand's not burning."
"It feels natural."
Suddenly, the fire vanished as Leon Edalious opened his eye.
"Ah, it's morning already," he muttered, half-awake, wondering why no one had woken him.
"Ahh! It's Wednesday morning. They must have gotten up early to eat my share."
Leon rushed out of his room and hurried downstairs. His room was right next to the staircase. He grew irritated when he saw that the other kids in the dining room had finished all the renbypie—a local snack made from renby fruit that grows in the backyard of the house.
The dining room was located on the right side of the first floor. Inside, a few boys were making a mess—fighting over the last piece of renbypie, which had left crumbs and smears across the table.
The dining room connected to the kitchen, situated directly behind it. Beside the kitchen was the bathroom, from which a teenage girl had just stepped out.
"Overslept again, Leon?" she teased.
"Shut up, Eva! It's because they didn't wake me up."
"You're late—you don't get to complain," said Eli, a slender older boy seated in the dining room.
"You guys didn't wake me up! That's not fair. I'm gonna tell Mother Caramel!"
Off he went to Mother Caramel's room, located on the upper floor.
Her room was on the second floor at the front right corner of the house. He opened the door, but Mother Caramel wasn't there.
The room was neat and tidy, almost bare. It held little more than her personal items—a few pieces of makeup and some medicine on the desk beside her bed, which was positioned beneath the front-facing window. Across from the bed stood a massive wardrobe rack with elegant Victorian-style clothing. Warm daylight poured in through the front and side windows, bathing the room in a soft, natural glow.
Leon wondered where she might be as he gently closed the door.
"Outside, maybe," he muttered.
He returned downstairs and was stopped by Harry, who was still lingering in the dining room.
"Hey, are you going to lie to Mother?"
"The pie was just a leftover—it wasn't made for us, so there wasn't any meant for you."
Leon scrunched up his face.
"You could've at least woken me up!" he shouted.
"We did wake you up, but you got mad and started talking about seeing fire—saying it was really close."
Leon's ears turned red as he looked away, embarrassed by his sleep-talking.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm going out."
He felt left out and couldn't bring himself to accept that it was his fault for oversleeping.
Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so mad... now I look like a fool, he thought.
Harry headed upstairs with a sigh while Leon continued walking toward the front door.
His hand touched the doorknob, but he paused when he heard a voice coming from the office next to the entryway.
"That sounds like that person..." he thought.
Leon tried to catch the conversation, but the voices were too quiet to understand.
He leaned his ear against the door—
—and just then, it swung open.
"Sneaky little dude, you are," said the speaker—a Possugurd, a race short in stature, about the same height as nine-year-old Leon, with a thick mustache.
"I wasn't listening," Leon said quickly, avoiding eye contact.
"Hahaha! You've grown a lot. Alright, I'm running late for work," said the Possugurd.
Leon looked confused by what he said.
"I'll visit again in the future," the man said to Mother Caramel.
"You should visit more often. We always welcome visitors," Mother Caramel replied warmly.
"I wish I could, but my work is heavy, and as a foreign worker, I can't come to the city very often. Alright, goodbye for now—see you again, Leon." And with that, the Possugurd left.
"Who was that?" asked Leon.
"His name is Warhug, a donor. He helps a lot to fund our orphanage," Mother Caramel explained.
"No wonder he knows me," Leon mumbled with a disappointed expression—he had thought it was something more exciting.
"Why are you in my office—do you have something to tell me?" asked Mother Caramel.
He panicked and blurted out, "Why do you make renbypie every Wednesday?"
"It's for our neighbor. He only comes home on Wednesday mornings to pick up his mail," she replied.
"He used to help around the house with repairs, but he had to move away for work," Mother Caramel continued, noticing Leon wasn't very interested in the story.
"Is there anything else you want to talk about?" she asked.
Leon scratched his head and told her he had been having dreams lately about fire. He said the fire felt familiar—warm, but not hot or burning.
Mother Caramel placed her finger on her chin as she recalled her earlier conversation with Warhug.
He had specifically asked about Leon—whether he had ever shown signs of having powers. There were a few kids in the orphanage with abilities, but she had never seen anything unusual in Leon. Curious, she had asked Warhug, "Do you perhaps know anything about him?"
"No, I just noticed he has a special aura. We Possugurd can see auras in others," Warhug replied, smiling awkwardly—knowing full well he was lying.
"Oh really? I didn't know that. What kind of aura do you see in him?" she asked.
"Flame. I felt a blazing heart in him. Maybe one day, he'll show signs of fire-based abilities," Warhug said with a serious expression.
"Wow, I never expected that. His hair is very black. Usually, fireborns have a bit of pale orange in their hair—but I've never seen that on him. Maybe I should look more closely," she had said.
"Mother, do you know anything about it?" Leon asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Ah! Right! Come closer to me," she said, pulling him gently forward.
"Oh, heavens above!" she gasped. "You've got a few strands of pale orange in your hair!"
"Leon, you're a Fireborn! How shocking!"
Leon's heart pounded. Fireborn?