Despite his German mother’s origin, Jaime had never believed in Hitler’s War; none of his family had. So now that the war was over, they tried to do what they could for the few remaining Jewish families in the Netherlands in 1945. But remaining rogue Nazi supporters kept a close watch and tight hold on larger cities. They knew where Jewish families lived, and they knew who helped them.
When Hitler’s remaining supporters found their way to Jaime’s house, they held nothing back. They barricaded the doors with the family inside and set the home ablaze with torches. Jaime huddled with his family as smoke quickly filled the small house and the flames bled from wall to ceiling. He heard his mother coughing and his father yelling. Sweat dripped from his brow, making his eyes sting. He shut his eyes tightly against the waves of smoke that billowed into the room and waited for the end.
Suddenly, a cold rush of air filled his lungs, jolting him back to awareness and refreshing him. His eyes shot open. Snow and water had somehow filled the air around him and an unknown man pulled him from the fire.
Jaime was filled with fire before his life was ended with fire. It was ironically just that his talent would be the ability to summon a blaze of destructive flames at will. Hatred. Anger. Resistance. His blood ran so hot with emotion, it was a wonder he couldn’t summon fire in his mortal life, before his home and family were consumed by it. Now, he was the youngest of a new family – a brotherhood – but the fire set ablaze in his heart on that fateful day was never to be extinguished.