Family History, Family Mystery

"But won't it hurt?" She asked her dad tentatively, hovering her hand over the hot coals. "Only for a minute," he winked. "Once you're on the other side you'll be glad you did it. It's a rite of passage in the Scrampus family."

Eliza was proud to belong to the Scrampus clan. Ever since she was a little girl she'd dreamt of the sacred ritual before her. In a surge of courage she thrust her hand into the fire pit. Before she could feel pain a mysterious symbol materialized on the back of her hand.

Dark lines snaked across her hand, morphing and twisting. She clenched her fist and held her hand in the fire pit for a bit longer. The symbol was still taking shape. She counted slowly to four and as she realized what the symbol was, her heart dropped.

She'd spent most of her adult life running from the world the symbol represented. From the day she'd overheard the conversation in her parents small kitchen all she'd done was run. Yet now watching it take shape in the flames she realized this fate was always hers.

The heat from the flames kissed her face. She stepped away. She threw on her poncho, the one with the embroidered leopard-since she had always believed in the power of spirit animals. She ran away, to once and for all, confront the man that turned her life upside down.

When she reached the outskirts of the city, a fruit monger yelled something in an ancient language and collapsed. It wasn't until she was deep in the bazaar that she turned to see the leopard following closely behind, seemingly guarding her. The crowd began to part before her.