The First Spark
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The young child was enjoying the solace of his company, unaware of the fact that soon the moment would arrive that he had waited for so long. The young Parselmouth, already considered a weird child, sat alone playing with his wooden blocks. The whole family was gathered at the ancestral house of the Varen family in Rouen, Paris. All of his distant family members were there to celebrate his grandfather's 80th birthday. Arin hated family gatherings. The boy is anti-social, but he wasn't like that since birth; just like every other kid, he craved attention, he craved love, he craved connection. But the ability of serpent-tongued ruined everything the day he was found talking to those "crawling things." But that was not just his father's reaction; it made everyone in his family talk in hushed voices around him. The incident made him a lot more quieter than before. The worst of these family gatherings were his cousins, not all, but most of them. "Alors, on fait quoi, le taré ?" "What the weirdo is doing, huh?" the mocking voice of Marcel, his older cousin, rang in his ears. He hated him; the boy had made fun of everything Arin did. "Le Phénomène," "Mauviette," and his personal favourite "Langue de Vipère." "Freak," "Weakling," "Viper tongue" Marcel was an older boy, attending Beauxbatons. He was a Quidditch Player as well. Half the reason why Arin hated Quidditch that he would never admit was that, during his childhood years, Marcel used to let Bludgers run free behind him. The older boy never missed any chance to insult, humiliate, or bully the parselmouth, taking it as a sense of pride. The elders in the family never believed Arin, because Marcel was the golden boy, being the perfect child with perfect grades and a star Quidditch player. " Qui serait assez fou pour croire le mal incarné au lieu de moi, le fils idéal ? " "Why would anyone believe the evil over me, the perfect child?" When Marcel saw that Arin was there, alone playing with his blocks, the older boy couldn't resist tormenting the parselmouth. The heavy thump of his walk grabbed Arin's attention. The younger boy tensed up, knowing something bad was coming his way. The boy was making a model area of what he wished his house looked like, too fascinated by the structure. But the joy wasn't going to last long. A large leg came right in front of him, kicking the structure he spent all day making. " Oups ! Je ne t’avais pas vu, là. " The older boy said, faking the shock and pity. "Oops! I didn't see you there." The little boy watched the towers of blocks fly across, some to the ground, a few hitting him in the chaos. He wanted to scream, to cry, to complain, but he couldn't even move from his place. Eyes were wide, watching his hard work crumble into pieces. The boy didn't even realise that the sudden shock had brought such powers to life. Every block in the room shop upward, whirling into the air like a mini storm. The books and parchments in the room snapped open and got scattered around on their own. By the time Arin came to his senses, everything was a mess, and the boy stood in the middle of it, trembling. The moment lasted only seconds before everything crashed back to the floor. The commotion got the attention of other family members and his parents. They were too shocked to see what had happened. And only his mum came forward, " Arin ! Ça va ? Tu n'as rien ? " "Arin! My dear, are you okay? You aren't hurt?" His mother rushed to check on him while his father gave him an approving nod from the doorway. The realisation of his first spark suddenly hitting him, and the gloom of his precious wooden city being destroyed was gone. |
Encyclopedia
stamina ◦ 5 | evasion ◦ 8 | strength ◦ 0 | wisdom ◦ 5 | arcane power ◦ 2 | accuracy ◦ 10
stamina ◦ 5 | evasion ◦ 8 | strength ◦ 0 | wisdom ◦ 5 | arcane power ◦ 2 | accuracy ◦ 10