Keziah felt heat surge through her body as she completely lost control. 

Her eyes had gone white and were flickering rapidly as her body bobbed up and down in the air, the cyclone of heat and objects from her bedroom swirling faster than ever.

Her grandmother finally fought her way into the middle of the cyclone and tugged on Keziah’s dress. But when she did, Keziah’s body started to glow and her eyes flickered faster, brighter. When the old woman’s hand made contact with Keziah’s garment, the skin on her wrinkled arm started to peel away – the heat was reaping its destruction.

Her grandmother screamed, but it was no use. She let go of the girl’s dress, examined her blistering hand, and looked up at the girl who had become the eye of her own type of storm.

“My baby.” She looked up at the small girl’s hair, tossing back and forth in the wind. “My poor baby.”

Keziah could no longer fight the force within her body; the process was excelling too quickly. She could faintly hear the man in the bayou screaming, telling her that she needed to control it before it was too late. Keziah blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, they looked as if someone had replaced them with pools of ink.

She released a surge of heat into her room. As it rippled over everything around her, a wave of warm humidity slowly began to suck all of the water out of everything around her. The cyclone began to spin faster. Sweat poured down her grandmother’s face as she looked up at her grandchild; she was so consumed by the unbearable heat that she could think of neither anything to do nor to say. She lay on the ground, pounding on the wooden floors, screaming.

Then as she pounded on the ground one last time, she hit something strange, familiar – a boot she remembered from long ago. She grabbed onto the shoe and let her eyes trail upward, over long, thin legs and onto a face she had not seen in what seemed like a lifetime.

It had been 23 years, and she could still remember the boy as he once was. A thin, dark boy she had run into one evening as she was sitting by the lake. From the first time she met him, she could feel the power within him – the very presence of heat within his bones. She knew that he was a much more powerful being than she. She could recall her own grandmother revealing a prophecy to her about a young boy that would soon surpass her own power. He would have the ability to harness the heat from one thousand suns, and she would be the only one on this earth who would be able to help him harness his powers.

Keziah’s grandmother watched this boy grow up as she trained him, as she helped him harness his powers every step of the way. She could remember the very day when she trained him in the lake and he told her that her very own life would be ended with the discovery of her granddaughter’s powers. That was the very day she banished the boy, only to trigger a heat wave that wiped out the entire bayou – almost like the one Keziah made herself.

Keziah’s grandmother vowed to keep magic out of her family. She did everything she could to make sure Keziah never knew about her abilities. Keziah’s grandmother still watched the boy from afar as he grew up, and her body had gone completely weak at the sight of him.

He stood over her, trying to help her up. However, it was too late. Keziah began to rise higher and higher above the two of them.

As the man tried to help the grandmother up once more, he knew it was too late. His only hope was to stop Keziah from releasing a heat wave much like the one he released at her age. He tugged on her, trying to pull her down, but her body kept releasing more and more heat as he did so. The waves began to slowly ripple, sucking the life from everything around her.

“Keziah! You have to control it!” he screamed, but his voice just echoed in the vortex of heat that began to swirl faster with each second. He knelt down next to the grandmother, his former mentor. He held her close to him, picked her up in his arms and tried to figure out a way to pull her out of the vortex. The paint on Keziah’s walls started to peel – the floorboards began to buckle. The man turned his back to one side of the vortex, attempting to back out of the swirling heat. The back of his vest started to peel and wither away, and the thread unraveled as it was also scorched by the cyclone. He knew it wouldn’t work; his attempt to save Keziah’s grandmother wouldn’t work.

He laid her down as he started to conjure up a spell, the same spell he used to transport himself from place to place. He looked up at Keziah. Her black liquid eyes began to flow from the sockets and into the cyclone, dying the heat wave black as it pulled in the house she once called home. A small swirl of wind funneled from the ground and into the young man’s hand. He tried to pull her grandmother into the funnel, but there wasn’t enough magic between the two of them to combat Keziah’s power. As her eye sockets were completely emptied with black liquid, he prepared a funnel just big enough to jump into before it was too late.

The wave was similar to a big city black out. First, one building lost power. Then everything from that point on fell like dominos. One last gush of heat left Keziah’s body as her grandmother’s house caved in. A surge of heat swam over the entire bayou, pulling the water out of everything around her for miles. Her grandmother was able to outstretch her hand for one more moment before the wave tugged out her very last breath. Keziah slowly descended, landing on a pile of debris as the black liquid that once filled her eyes trailed back into her sockets.

She awoke with a gasp of air, her body drenched in sweat. She laid in plain view of the sun, surrounded by a desert she once called home. She opened her eyes slowly, surrounded by the detritus that had been her room.

As she regained her consciousness, she saw a funnel of leaves swirling in the distance.

She saw a tall, handsome man with a top hat and bright green eyes.

began to swirl faster with each second. He knelt down next to the grandmother, his former mentor. He held her close to him, picked her up in his arms and tried to figure out a way to pull her out of the vortex. The paint on Keziah’s walls started to peel – the floorboards began to buckle. The man turned his back to one side of the vortex, attempting to back out of the swirling heat. The back of his vest started to peel and wither away, and the thread unraveled as it was also scorched by the cyclone. He knew it wouldn’t work; his attempt to save Keziah’s grandmother wouldn’t work.

He laid her down as he started to conjure up a spell, the same spell he used to transport himself from place to place. He looked up at Keziah. Her black liquid eyes began to flow from the sockets and into the cyclone, dying the heat wave black as it pulled in the house she once called home. A small swirl of wind funneled from the ground and into the young man’s hand. He tried to pull her grandmother into the funnel, but there wasn’t enough magic between the two of them to combat Keziah’s power. As her eye sockets were completely emptied with black liquid, he prepared a funnel just big enough to jump into before it was too late.

The wave was
similar to a big city black out. First, one building lost power. Then everything from that point on fell like dominos. One last gush of heat left Keziah’s body as her grandmother’s house caved in. A surge of heat swam over the entire bayou, pulling the water out of everything around her for miles. Her grandmother was able to outstretch her hand for one more moment before the wave tugged out her very last breath. Keziah slowly descended, landing on a pile of debris as the black liquid that once filled her eyes trailed back into her sockets.

She awoke with a gasp of air, her body drenched in sweat. She laid in plain view of the sun, surrounded by a desert she once called home. She opened her eyes slowly, surrounded by the detritus that had been her room.

As she regained her consciousness, she saw a funnel of leaves swirling in the distance.

She saw a tall, handsome man with a top hat and bright green eyes.