There was only one thing worse than being a fire starter. Being Nequam. Worthless. That's how I've always felt anyway. I may be a fire starter, but I might as well be nequam. I won't survive, not if the capitol takes me to military. My family hopes I'll be military cargo. To serve the royal family. More like to get rid of me. I hope the General won't come. But Ignitum gets raided every month. Countless fire starters stolen from there families. Orul thinks they need fire starters for dirty work, I think they need bait. Bait serves as death, the only cause, being a trap. For the capitol to get what they want. Ishka Baba told me there looking for something more. "There looking for power." She said, her voice old like her age, cracking and creaking."Of course." I laughed. "They always are." 

Ishka Baba shook her head violently. "Not that kind of power." I never knew what she meant. When the general arrive, frost crawled through the cracks of the stone walls and threatened to invade. We'd muddied our faces and put clothes over the windows, hoping, praying the general wouldn't come. My mother protested. She wanted me to be cargo. She wanted me to be a servant to the royal the family. And I hated her for it. How could she want me gone? It used to sting, but now the sorrow hides in the holes carved from my heart. She tied my hair in a cauda with a black ribbon, the colors of mourning, she whispered in my ear. She said she'd miss me. I wasn't going anywhere. A loud knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Orul clamped his sweaty palm over my mouth. I swatted him away, I know when to stay quiet, I know when to be silent. A bullet shot through the door, nailing my sleeve against the cold stone walls. The door burst open, splintering the wood against the ground. Three burly men in dark grey iaccam's stormed inside. Capital men. "Which of you are fire starters." The middle man asked in a low gruff voice. I ripped my sleeve from the table, tearing the cotton white fabric with a shearing noise. "Take the lot." A man with a heavy Cæli accent told him. "They'll come in handy eventually, if not, they can rot in carcerem." 

I could feel Orul shudder next to me. My mother coughed gently. The Cæli man looked at her with disgust. "M-my D-d-daughter." She said, pointing to me. "She's a f-f-fire s-starter." The man turned his attention to me, noticing the torn sleeve and bitter stare. He flicked his arm commanding me to rise. Orul stood up with me. "Get down! I hissed. Orul didn't answer, his posture rigid. "Show me." He said slowly, spit flinging from his mouth. A small flame shot from my hand, lighting the soldiers iaccam on fire. One of the other soldiers stepped next to him and doused the flames with a sprout of clear water. An Aquarainian, I thought with disdain. Aquarainian's were snobs. Living in high class, they had the most in's with the royal family. A sharp gunshot rang and the Cæli man fell to the floor, blood oozing from his chest. 

The aquarainian grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. "Get them to ad nave!" He yelled, More uniformed men clustered inside, grabbing our arms and yanking us out of the hut. More bullets flew through the air, nailing the Aquarainian in the leg. He cried out in pain, loosening his grip on my arm. I jerked free, dashing towards the soldier holding Orul. A flame burst from my finger, barely setting the man's iaccam ablaze. He recoiled in shock, he didn't expect it, neither did I. "Run!" I screamed, as the soldiers closended. Panic glinted in Orul's eyes as he ran from his captor. I punched at the advancing soldier but the ground rised upwards, binding my arms to the rocks. My head collided with his iaccam and the sharp gold buttons grazed my face, cutting the bridge of my nose. A hand clamped around my throat, pinching slightly at the base of my neck. A woozy sensation closed up on me. The world didn't spin, I didn't feel any pain. Just the dark, closing in on me.