"Ignis"

"C'mon, Keith, let's move!" Liam yelled.
Keith stood, unmoving, wearing an eerily gleeful smile as he watched the British army tank go up in flames. He'd always reveled in the beauty and primal power of fire.
Shannon and Liam exchanged panicked looks and began screaming for him in Gaelic.
"Come on, Keith, run!"
The sound of the language of the kings seemed to pull Keith out of his daze and he turned, dodging frantic people clogging the streets as he dashed for the barricades. He vaulted over the wooden barrier and landed safely in Catholic territory, glancing over his shoulder one more time at the blaze.
"You're crazy," Shannon whispered before he scampered across the street to his house.
Keith flashed his dazzling, manic grin. He headed for his own house, moving against the stream of people flocking towards the barricades to see what pandemonium was going down on the Protestant side.
"What's the fuss about?" Jack O'Connor asked when Keith slipped through the front door.
"Some lads took it on the Brits. They sent in troops." Keith shrugged off his uniform navy blue blazer, hanging it on one of the pegs beside the door. "I take my algebra O-level tomorrow. I'm gonna go study."
Jack nodded, not looking up from the potato he was peeling. "You do that, boy."
Keith headed to his tiny bedroom, what had once been the pantry for the house. He sprawled out across his bed, wincing slightly when his head connected with the far wall.
He shut his eyes, remembering how he'd tossed the glass bottle, a Molotov cocktail that had widely missed its mark, hitting one of them bobby cars. It didn't matter. Liam and Shannon saw what they wanted. It was always an incredible rush when he loosed his mind, set himself free.
He'd been dazed in those few moments as the bottle spun through the air, watching the green glass wink in the sunlight. There'd been that tightening in his chest, stifling him so he couldn't breathe. His lungs were burning, burning...
Whoomph!!
The power had exploded out of his body, and the tank halted in the middle of the road, suddenly consumed by a ball of flame. Keith's body was humming with energy, his mind singing as the flames reached higher and higher...
"Well, lad, how did it go?"
His eyes flew open. Keith sat up when he saw Ste, Duffy and Ronan crowding his doorway.
Ste was grinning like a madman, that insane glint in his green eyes.
"Still the top marksman, eh?" he asked, bouncing on his toes eagerly.
Duffy shot him a significant look, and the boy fell silent, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.
Ronan leaned forwards, speaking in a low voice, in Gaelic.
"We have a job tonight - the Prod church on the corner. Eleven thirty, yeah?"
Keith nodded. "Of course."
Duffy shoved a bag at him, filled with the familiar soft weight of C4.
"Be there," he ordered, and then the three of them vanished from his room, door clicking shut behind them softly.

Keith knelt before the pulpit, setting down the block of C4 gently. Holly, Liam, Shannon and some of the elder lads were waiting across the street, just over the barricades. He straightened up and strode out of the chapel, emerging in the cool night. Upon reaching the other, he fisted a hand in Holly's curls and pulled her down for a kiss, the church going up in flames with a simple flick of his mind. A soft chorus of cheers rose up in Gaelic.
"You're a nutter, Keith, that you are," Holly murmured in his ear, dropping a soft kiss on his cheek.
He smiled tenderly at her, gazing into her hypnotic golden eyes. "Aye, and a dodgy one at that."
He leaned down to kiss her again, feeling the heat of the fire on his back. His life was bliss - he had his life his fire, and his love.
Holly murmured, "Look at it burn."