The Gemini Age: Book One

[2-1] Where the Heart Is - Part One

    The apartment had barely changed since Jade had last seen it several years ago. Tucked away in the capillaries between the vital organs of Holyrood and the Old Town, the same flawless slate walls led her from the front door to the kitchen, over the same blinding dandelion-yellow rug her uncle rescued from his previous residence. Though the fabric had begun to thin at the rug's edges, it still shone with cheer.

    An island styled in white marble stood in the centre of the open-plan kitchen to divide the workspace from the lounge. Beneath comfortable sofas lay a plush charcoal floor, the follicles of which all fell in one direction despite obvious regular vacuuming. The scent of lavender reached her nose as soon as she stepped onto the carpet.

    Jade wanted to fall straight into the soft seats, but as she moved to do so her legs froze in place. "I don't believe it, Uncle," she said as Wilfred followed her into the living area. "You've gotten rid of the rotbox!"

    Looming over the seats, a polished flat-screen OLED television reflected her stunned face back at her. Wilfred pulled off his long wool coat to reveal a waistcoat of the same neutral grey shade, as bemused as his expression. "There was nothing wrong with your father's old set," he snipped. "That is, not until I tried to fix its picture quality issues with a little magical inspiration. How was I to know it couldn't handle a little lightning?"

    Jade's neck tingled. "Lightning?"

    Her uncle's snort filled the room, his hand alight with a ball of fire beneath a jug of water. "Not for a long time, little bird. I don't care how much your mother praises your control of your Cold powers, Hot elements are a completely different art. They're spontaneous, they're unstable, unrestrained, and unforgiving."

    His flame licked the bottom of the jug, yet the water refused to boil. With a smirk, Jade narrowed her eyes at the jug and split the liquid down its centre with her finger, pulling the upper half out of the container and into Wilfred's face. The flame went out, though the jug remained in her uncle's hands. "I can be spontaneous too, Uncle," she said with her eyebrow raised. "And you should really only boil as much water as you need."

    Wilfred tutted as he wiped his eyes. "Yes, I'm well aware of both those things," he said as he relit his flame and watched his water begin to twitch in the jug. "But that doesn't make you ready for lightning, or any other dangerous art for that matter. Can you even sustain a flame yet?"

    Strolling to the kitchen island, Jade smiled wickedly. "You bet I can! Look here!" she smiled as she held out her open palm. In the centre of her hand above the material of her sleeve, a candlelight flickered into life, and her eyes flitted between its dance and Wilfred's stony face with delight. "Come on, Uncle, I figured this out on my own! Doesn't that prove I'm a fast learner?"

    The water in the jug reached its boiling point, yet Wilfred set it on the counter with a firm hand. "That's not a flame, Jade," he said, placing his hand near her palm. In a heartbeat, the spark in Jade's hand roared into a fire that stretched the full length of her hand, stinging her fingertips and wrist at once. Jade yelped and flicked the flame away. Catching and snuffing out the wisps of heat, Wilfred rounded the island and placed a hand on her shaking shoulder. "That is the flame of a Hot soul."

    Jade sucked air through her teeth and stared at her hand, her skin alive with a burning pain yet untouched on both its surface and her shirt sleeve over it. "That was just mean, that's what that was!" She waved her hand around, but the warm air of the kitchen fanned the pain along her arm. Her eyes found the spilled water on the floor between them, the shimmering reflection of the polished kitchen fittings at last soothing the sting of the foreign heat.