From Beyond the Flames

I wake up with a sword and a necklace laying on my chest, all my other belongings whisked away. I open my eyes to find my body burned yet alive. My chest rising and falling, my ears ringing, my mouth dry, and my fingertips cold.

Burned, yet alive.

So why am I crying?

Why are my tears made of ash?

I unsheathe my blade and stare at the thin swath of reflection in the pristine metal. My starved face warbles through my tears as my skin becomes stained with ash and coal.

A once beautiful being, reduced to nothing with a single spark.

My skin crackles as I move to put the sword beside me in the seared grass. I wince at the unfamiliar pain before holding my necklace up.

The silver chain is barely in view as the metal digs into my neck, but the silver and gold heart-shaped locket hangs from the chain easily. I hold it in my hand, the metal still cool against my skin and the solid container impressing into my mind. Beautiful.

I raise my body slowly out of the grass and sit up, my breath rushing through my body. Despite my blackened fingers I am able to feel the way energy flows into my muscles. I wrap my arms around myself, leaving the necklace against my chest.

What happened to me?

Silence envelops the forest, releasing no answer.

I wipe tears off of my face and risk standing up. My feet wobble with the weight and my knees bend without prompting which sends me back into the grass. I almost curse until I see my sword again. I almost forgot it.

My only defense, a formidable offense. I grab the sword and take to my feet, my hand wrapping around the nylon handle.

There’s so many trees. So many bushes. I thought it was fall? The last memory I have is painful, sharp, but innocuous. A tree in the middle of a bustling town, the leaves floating to the ground all around me.

As I blink, the tree becomes barren and lonely as well as the town that slowly… no…

Immediately, it dies.

Gone.

I sniffle through more tears and step into the forest. I push through bushes and ignore the grasping branches that scratch at my darkened skin.

Moments pass as I grab and take, passing through more of the living soul called a forest. As I reach forward, the ash on my fingers remind me that I am burned, yet alive. And the forest is and should be alive. There is nothing holding it back.

More tears.

As I step forward once more, my leg hits against stone. I look down to find a short, crumbled brick wall that reaches my knees. I tilt my head and easily step over it, my sword scraping against it. The metal leaves a small mark on the light coloured stone as I continue on my way.

It is the first sign of humanity, but not the last. The next, a chopped down tree.

I stop at the stump and poke at the axe marks with my sword. Slivers of wood were left behind from when it had been chopped down and I move them easily off the circles with my sword.

I glance at the lines, finding a blackened line that stretched all the way around, covered by only a few other healthy planes of tree.

Fire.

I stare at my reflection again, finding my tears on my face that leave lines in the ashes on my face.

I close my eyes for a moment before standing and leaving the stump alone. I continue into the forest, waiting for the sunlight to populate the ground and rescue me from shadow.

My saviour takes its time, the leaves dappled with sunlight only barely coming into view. Still, I am unable to see any respite in the barrier of bushes and trees.

Then, I am freed.

I step into a clear field, the overlapping branches stopping dead at the edge. As I step out into the grass, my bare foot falls against a sharp branch and the crack makes me shiver. I wiggle my toes into the short grass and smile at the cool blades against my skin.

When I raise my head, the field becomes more than just calming grass. I grip my sword tighter and blink at my new surroundings.

Stone buildings rise up from the grass and cast shadows that reach towards me. I walk into their embrace and stare at the stones in front of me. With houses twice my height taking up my entire vision I carefully place my free hand onto the wall. The rough stone scratches my skin yet the sunless surface heals the pain.

I close my eyes before I can see more marks on my skin. The burns, the ash, the way my skin has started to crack under the pressure of living.

“Ma’am?”

A tug on my thin shirt, a poke at my sword and I open my eyes to find a young boy staring back at me. He has the kind of brown hair and pudgy face that begs to be poked and ruffled and smiled at.

“Hello,” I respond with the calmest smile I know.

“Why are you here?”

I grimace suddenly at his clouded eyes and worried crease of his brows as I match his timid voice. “I don’t know.” I crouch down and move my sword out of his reach.

He pulls back his arms and holds them stiff against his sides. “I wish you did know.”

I take a deep breath and stand up again. “Did something happen here?”

“The Fire. Ma’am,” he waits for me to look back at him. “Do you not remember?”

Fear. This boy, so young yet so scared. Fear of what?

“I saw you, ma’am. I saw you run.” His clouded eyes shake as his hands tense. “Run away.”

I swallow and hold tight onto my sword, my necklace now a distant care. “Should I have stayed?”

“The Fire calls to you.” His light voice shivers and a darkened burn travels down his exposed skin and towards his face. He turns his face away from it. “It eventually calls to us all.”

I step away as welts begin to form and the once still air wavers around me. “Why?”

The boy’s legs begin to shake and he falls forward. His gaze catches me as he falls. “I wish you knew.”

The clouded eyes of the burning being follows me as I run. My feet slap against the ground as the grass changes to stone and then to cracked cement. I wince at the shocks of pain but I keep going. The buildings change and I am led into a city by my fear. By the sizzle of hurt that hovers over my back.

The worn paint that once separated the road safely becomes a trail for me to follow as I flee. By the time the rushing wind in my ears stops I am only able to see civilization around me. Tall skyscraper buildings covered in rusted metal and dusty glass raise up around me and the doors at my height are tarnished and broken.

The stale air rushes with the sense of green and life but it quickly replaced with the smell of smoke as I find the first victim.

The first…

She sits against a window, a blanket across her lap and a pile of ashes beside her. Her eyes are open and clouded with white, just like the boy’s. I step away from the sight of her own scars, red swathes of skin that mar her face.

She takes a breath.

Another coughs from the other side of the road, an old man whose scars I close my eyes against. I hold my hands over my ears against his rattling breath.

More.

More.

More.

Another body.

Another soul.

Burned, yet alive. All of us.