It’s the second week of my little Meet&Greets already! This week you’re meeting my main character’s ‘sidekick’, for lack of a better word, Cephy. Cephy is twelve years old when the book starts but in this little short she’s two years younger. Enjoy! 🙂
Keeping one eye on the door and one eye on her hands, Cephy called a small but comforting flame into being. From downstairs her mother’s screams carried up to her, accompanied only by her father’s shouting and the thud as his hand connected with her mother’s exposed skin. She desperately wanted to help her mother, but there was nothing she could do. If he found her with fire in her palms he’d flay them both alive, and then what good would that do anyone?
Trying not to cry, she swallowed back the hot tears forming in her eyes and the heavy, accusing lump in her throat. If only she was stronger – like a knight, maybe! Then she’d make sure he’d never hurt her or her mother again!
But people like her could never become a knight. She was cursed, just like her mother. Her father only kept her alive because her mother had begged him, had sworn to the Gods that Cephy would keep her curse hidden. Instead, when her father was out blind from drinking too much, she taught Cephy what little she knew.
Her father wanted her to believe it was a curse, given to her by the devil himself. Her mother said it was a gift, something she should be proud of rather than ashamed. It was easy to believe her father when she saw his reaction to the tiniest contained spark, but her mother loved her. He never had. She chose to believe her mother.
Careful not to let any sparks go astray she focused on the comforting flame in her open palms. She could make it grow, if she wanted to, and even set fire to snow if she wished it. Her mother had shown her how, last winter. She still had bruises on her back from when her father had found out, and her mother still carried a terrible scar on her right cheek.
Focusing on the fire, she moved her hands apart from each other, and made the flames dance from one palm to another. A small smile found its way onto her lips – ashamed of herself she made the flames and her smile disappear and got up, dusting herself off as she walked back to the door. Downstairs her father was beating her mother, while she sat up here and hid like her mother had begged her to do. There was nothing she could do, but she wished things were different. She wanted to help her mother more than anything, stand between them and protect her, but he was much stronger than she was. He would only hurt her worse than ever, and her mother would feel worse knowing that they had both gotten injured.
Not that it mattered. He always got around to beating her sooner or later. For now, hiding was all she could do.
Watch this space for more character insights! Next week you will meet the devoted leader of the revolution, Cale.
For all other Excerpts from my book or other related information, take a look here.
All content belongs to the author, Sarina Langer.