He saw me immediately, the boy did. His eyes, flecked with orange and yellow, seemed to ignite when he stood up, fire encircling his wrists, ready to be thrown at me.
I moved slowly, my hands raised to show I was unarmed - which, really, was more a gesture than anything. He had no idea who I was. Had no idea that I was capable of potentially capturing him. He could have, at any point, killed me. But for some reason - maybe it was my age and unthreatening appearance, or perhaps his own curiosity - he didn’t.
Instead, when I had gotten close enough to him to hear, he spoke.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, his voice harder than I would have expected from someone his age.
I stopped where I was - nearly thirty feet... Please subscribe to keep reading.
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