From the journal of Madeline Le Torneau: “The entrance ritual humbled me.”

  The three women waved their scepters in unison and a wall of flame the size of Madeline appeared in between the casters and the initiate.

  The wall grew and grew until Madeline recoiled, holding her hands in front of her face.

  The masked women spoke as one. “Trust your Warrior brothers and sisters. Step into the fire and cleanse yourself knowing that we are protecting you.”

  Again, Madeline found herself asking…they wanted her to…what?

  The flame wall radiated heat, even from five paces away and naked, Madeline felt sweat dripping as the flames licked her skin. She wiped her brow. The fire positively raged. Tall, wide, angry.

  She knew her carefully applied makeup smeared down her cheeks due to the heat. She knew this because the black paint she’d used for the upside-down triangles under her eyes dripped onto her chest. She ignored it.

  Her heart raced but she edged forward toward the wall. The heat increased with every small step becoming more and more unbearable. She looked down at her naked body, certain there would be bubbling or blistering marring her once unblemished skin. She saw neither.

  Despite this, the heat made it harder and harder to breathe. Madeline willed her feet forward. She stepped into the flame.

  And was transported.

  She became a child again on the playground of her elementary school. Even as a child, her blonde hair stood out amongst the other children. The boy in the class that she liked, a short boy named Nelson, came up behind her and yanked on her honey blonde curls. She screamed in pain and held back ugly tears.

  Nelson stuck his tongue out at her, but his eyes betrayed his concern for her well-being. He felt bad. The world around her dissolved, becoming a blur of smoke and clouds then the scene changed again. Madeline found herself sitting on the steps of the elementary school as she waited for her mother or her father to walk her home. One of the best parts of her days took the form of guessing which parent would come to retrieve her. Her parents constantly reminded her that the village was simply too large for her to walk alone. Too large and too easy to get lost.

  Nelson approached her while she waited. “Your dress looks stupid,” he said to her. Madeline fought back tears again. She only had two dresses, and she liked this white one best with its pretty yellow flowers. That, and her mom did a good job sewing the seams and it barely showed any signs of its age.

  “Why are you being mean to me?” Madeline squeaked out. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  Immediately, Nelson’s expression changed. He seemed to look through her, no, past her for a fraction of a second then his eyes met hers again. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I, uh, you don’t smell bad.”

  His youthful face screwed into a grimace and he stepped closer to her with his hands wide in a gesture of submission. Did he want a hug? God, boys could be so darn confusing.

  Truth was, she could use a hug. It had been a tough day and now she was self-conscious about her favourite dress. Madeline opened her arms to hug Nelson, blinked and found herself sprawled on her back in the dirt instead of receiving a calming squeeze.

  Madeline shook the cobwebs from her brain and locked in on the sound of laughter. Nelson’s laughter. His best friend Oswell’s laughter. They high-fived each other while she tried her best to hold back tears that were surely on their way. Oswell had knelt behind Madeline on all fours and instead of a hug, Nelson pushed her over.

  Dirt stained her dress and to her great dismay the fall tore a rip in the fabric on her butt. It was a bad rip. Even if her mother could mend it, it would never be the same. She watched Nelson and Oswell laugh and walk away, leaving her alone to surrender to her crying.

  The world blurred and smoked and in an instant she returned to her body, to the Academy, bathing in flames. She fell to her knees, surrounded by several feet of raging inferno on every side and above her.

  The heat overwhelmed the rest of her senses until the only thing she could see was the white hot fire surrounding her. Panicked thoughts dashed through her mind, uncontrollable thoughts of suffocating or burning to death inside this raging flame, sweaty, naked and alone. So very alone.

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  Again, the women chanted in unison, cutting through everything else. Their voices boomed in her head, completely cutting out the sounds of the inferno ruining her eardrums. “Kneel amongst the fire and pledge yourself to the Energy Warriors! Disavow the human you were before the cleansing of the flames!”

  The world changed around her once more and she was transported back to her village.

  The leaves on the ground indicated the changing of the season, child Madeline spent the interceding time avoiding both Nelson and Oswell and learning basic self defense from her father. Just in case. After being embarrassed by the boys, she’d vowed to not be so naive ever again. Her mother mended the dress to the best of her ability but the sewing line pulled the fabric too tight on the one end. She refused to wear it.

  Child Madeline sat outside the school again, far away from the gruesome twosome, waiting for one of her parents to pick her up. They came to get her later and later these days - her father rarely came to get her anymore thanks to working long hours - so she hoped she’d see him on the horizon. Her dad would pick her up and put her on his shoulders. He grunted now when he heaved her onto his shoulders, but she liked the view of the world from way up there. How safe it felt.

  One by one the students left, Oswell before Nelson. When Nelson tried to come near her to speak with her, she moved to the other side of the pickup area. He got the hint.

  Nelson’s mother picked him up shortly thereafter and soon the rest of the children met their parents and went home, too. The weather bit cold against her blue dress but she fought it off. Yet, if her mom or dad didn’t show up soon she’d get cold and she hated walking in the cold. Her nose always ran in the cold and she didn’t think to bring tissues or kerchiefs.

  “Are your parents coming, little one?” her arithmetic teacher Mrs. Abernathy said, peering over a set of spectacles that didn’t fit her quite right.

  “Yes, Mrs. Abernathy.”

  “Would you like me to stay with you a while?”

  Madeline looked at the sun, setting on a steady downward trajectory.

  “They told me that I should meet them on the walk home but thank you, Mrs. Abernathy,” Madeline lied. Her parents had told her no such thing, of course, but walking home alone for the first time could be fun. Maybe she’d stop at Mr. Paluto’s bakery and smell the fresh dinner rolls. She had no money, but smelling cost nothing and maybe she’d catch Mr. Paluto in a good mood. She liked the bombastic Mr. Paluto. He’d given her a fresh roll once or twice and besides her mothers spicy chicken soup, the fresh roll from Mr. Paluto’s was one of the foods she enjoyed the most. He always asked her if she had a boyfriend yet and she always stuck her tongue out at him in response.

  Madeline began walking.

  The world dissolved, blurred and changed again and child Madeline opened her eyes. This time to the front steps of her childhood home. Their home was located on a hill, the grass beside the front walkway overgrown. Her father hadn’t the time to tend it due to his work, her mother said. She saw the wooden front door opened a crack, but Madeline thought nothing of it.

  “Mom? Dad? I’m home, I stopped at Mr. Paluto’s and he gave me three dinner rolls, he told me to take them home and say hello.”

  No answer met her greeting. In fact, she couldn’t hear or smell anything, not her father working on some home project she didn’t understand, not her mother cooking, cleaning or sewing, and nothing baking in the oven.

  Madeline sat down in the family kitchen, confused but not scared. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, so she ate the roll intended for her. The smell of the bread could not be denied. Her family had no cheese, for they couldn’t afford it except on special occasions, but the roll on its own tasted both light and fluffy. Another thirty minutes passed and Madeline’s stomach still rumbled so she ate the second roll. By the time she bit into the third roll, she no longer enjoyed the taste.

  Her parents had never left her alone like this. Never. Not when her father injured his ankle and her mother had to haul him to the healer. Not when it stormed outside, not when her mother’s school friends visited, never. Madeline couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in her gut.

  She’d been told never to go into her parents bedroom, not even in an emergency. That room belonged to them and adult things happened in that bedroom, they explained. Madeline almost always listened to her parents. Not this time. After unsuccessfully searching the rest of the house, the entirety of the yard and her fathers work shed, she didn’t know what else to do. Panic roiled her every nerve, fear invaded every step.

  She placed a small hand against the side of the bedroom door, breathing deeply then knocking softly. When she heard no answer, Madeline had no choice but to open the door.

  The bedroom looked lived in. A dresser leaned against the wall nearest to the open window with a turned over furry carpet in between the door and the dresser. Clothes were strewn about, as though her mother had a tough time picking an outfit that morning. Or many mornings. The cool night air lowered the temperature of the room past a comfortable degree.

  There!

  Madeline sighed a deep sigh of relief when she saw her parents resting on the bed. They were obviously sleeping, her fathers hand interlocked with her mothers. Must have been a long day for them to sleep so late.

  Fearing a tongue lashing but fearing her parents sleeping the rest of the night away more, Madeline approached the bed. She gently rocked her mothers shoulder. And screamed.

  Blood. So much blood.

  The front of her shirt, once a lovely dark blue, now incomprehensibly stained red. Thin holes in her chest - she later found out they were stab wounds - were the source of the blood. With a violently shaking hand, Madeline pushed over her fathers body, revealing matching wounds. She had no screams left. Only shock.

  Their dead eyes haunted Madeline from then on.

  She was transported back.