The warmth grows up my arms. I focus my body's energy on the flames in my hands. A gentle, crackling fireball, suspended between my open palms. The feeling's soft and mild. My concentrate of energy feeds it enough power to keep it twirling, softly extending its arms around. Head Pyra can't believe what she's seeing, as she tells me.

"You're not giving it enough oomph. Send it more energy. Even a noob could do that."

Great.

Candice, however, is staring so avidly that I think her eyes are actually going to fall out. "I could never have done that as a starter."

Now I'm confused. Does Head Pyra have higher expectations of me or something?

Jinx agrees with Candice. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know," I mutter. The fire flickers like a light bulb and extinguishes.

Candice slides over to Head Pyra. "You think she's the sign?"

Head Pyra seems to consider me. "Maybe. It's possible."

I gulp, nervousness washing over me. Candice had told me that they're waiting for the 'sign', whatever it is. I don't want to be their sign. I don't want to lead people into a fight.

Jinx appears to be extremely amused at this. "Aw, come on, how can she be the sign? We've waiting years and years and years but the sign's never shown up."

"Still," says Head Pyra, "she's got pink hair. How many people you know have pink hair?"

"One, and she's standing right here."

Head Pyra gives a snort like a bull. "See?" She turns to me. "Oh, I'm sorry dear, of course you don't know what the sign is."

"Actually, I—"

"Never mind. We can make an exception. The sign was created fifteen years ago, when Alium was first founded. Agone, the founder, wanted a 'sign' as a mark of when we should break out. So it was created as a person and sent into Ether, where it would stay until it came to Alium. That's when we would go back to Ether and fight for our place. Oh, and he said that the sign would have a distinguishing feature. So far, we haven't met anyone like that."

Fifteen years ago. I'm fifteen years old. My bubblegum-pink hair. My lack of magic. My talent for pyronetics. It's fitting together, and I don't like where it's leading.

"He also said that the sign would have no photographic memory, unlike other lost causes. And that they don't like to shout." Head Pyra squints at me. "Are you like that?"

I'm afraid, so terribly afraid to answer, but I do.

"Yes."