SnowFall

Lightning

It was Spring, a dampness in the air that would be felt by all fire wielders. It was a sensitive season for these folks. One of these fire wielders was sliding down the bannister, rather slowly, his copper eyes drifting elsewhere like his thoughts.

He needed fire. A place for a firepit. And he didn't want to let anyone in the house smell the smoke. Both literally and figuratively.

The stove had no actual fire, just heat panels, and a candlelight was too small to produce anything.

Jason heaved a sigh. Normally there were big fire cauldrons located around Gataria during enrolment seasons but Jason wasn't even allowed to leave the house. Because his father knew, the moment he left the house, he would never return. But did Jason only have this choice? To tell his father that he was attending Kallos?

Satisfied? I'm still in Gataria, some place you had some control in.

Jason wandered aimlessly to the sitting room, with no particular purpose, only to find the glass doors open. The glass door faced the lawn but it was not a perfect lawn. Half of it was soft, perfect grass and the other were rough and dark; grass and weeds that would prick and cut. Jason heard Lawrence mumble about doing something about it but, not yet, Jason thought. His attention landed quickly on the other standing figure.

His father didn't look at him. He didn't need to. Jason already knew he sensed his presence and he couldn't retreat from having a conversation with him.

"Morning," he said, studying the chess game he was playing with himself. His father always liked things that required some sort of... precision. A chance to make decisions without dwelling too much.

Jason cleared his throat, "I thought you were at work."

His father paused, looked at him and smiled, though it was a tired one despite both just rising out of bed, "I have a late meeting. I'll be going soon."

"I-I see..." Jason, not knowing what to do, turned around to leave.

"A fire's what you're looking for, isn't it?"

Jason bit back a curse. Slowly, mustering his patience, he said, "Yes."

"Could've just said you were going to Kallos."

"How did you–"

"Come out to the lawn."

Jason sighed. Arguing with his dad had proven — on multiple occasions — pointless so might as well get it over and done with.

He followed his father out to the grass. His father always moved with a certain silent confidence; a fire in a fireplace, quietly burning, seemly gentle until you get too close. Jason always wore a layer of caution for that reason, for once or twice... or maybe a few times more, Jason's defiance got too close and he witnessed part of his dad's wrath. It was a type of wrath that accumulated to its strength over time. He often wondered if it had anything to do with his–

"Here."

"Uh, okay."

His father narrowed his eyes, inclined his head to look at the sky. "A rather gloomy day, isn't it?"

Jason stared, "Yes."

"Good."

His father inhaled a breath and raised his arm.

"Dad–"

The cloud closed in instantly and his father closed his index and middle finger together, pointing at the clouds. He wore a calm and an alarmingly relaxed expression— effort was a joke to a man like Alex Abbott.

"Close your eyes."

"What–"

His father gently cut the air by lowering his raised arm and a flash of light burst in front of Jason's eyes. He shuffled back two steps and slowly blinked his eyes open.

There was a fire.

And it was burning the grass.

"Dad! You set the–ugh!"

Jason raised his own hand, feeling the warmth trickling around his fingers but his dad held his wrist and simply said, "Go grab your stuff."

"What?"

"Lawrence was going to destroy this place anyway so might as well," Mr Abbott gave a nonchalant shrug. He nudged his chin at the fire. "Grab your stuff."

Jason's eyes rounded when he realised what his father meant. He moved to the fire quickly before it spread elsewhere. Jason held his palm over the tip of the flame and drew a circle. The fire contained itself under Jason's command. Slowly, Jason bent down. The flame changed colours and in quick motion, Jason reached in. He wasn't sure he felt anything, let alone grab anything, but when his arm came out of the flames, his scroll and ring were within his grip.

"I could've just grabbed it at–" when Jason pushed down the flame, extinguishing it to ashes, and turned around, his father was gone.

Jason sighed.

I'm used to this...

I should be used to this.

A/N

I think I found a very fitting song for Mr Alex Abbott 😂 (My Name Is... by Once Monsters)

;) 

L