2.
Jump back to the beginning. The beginning of the new world. The death of the old. Jump to the first leader rising from the ashes. The start of his new journey. Of a new life for all of them. The steps to get here had taken much longer than anyone would have assumed. They had fought for what seemed like days.
Some of them had sustained injuries, mostly minor, but a few decent as well. The leader had received a wound in his shoulder, which was the most serious one, The others just had sordid cuts, scrapes, and bruises, most of which had been their own doing. Clumsiness did not count as a battle scar.
It took them a few days to gather supplies, and a small task force had been sent to find the materials to make a flag. They were going to mark this ground, this world, this victory, for future generations to see. It made them feel better about what they had actually done to get here. This way they had something to show for it. Even if all that was only a flag flying in the middle of nowhere.
The scenery had changed from a few days prior. Where buildings used to stand, there were now just small mountains of debris. The streets looked like hardened lava flows. There was no vegetation or other signs of life to speak of. They were at the center of a self created wasteland. This had been the goal all along, but some where really wondering if they had chosen the right path.
Jump forward a few days. Jump to the group deciding that it was time to leave and live the lives that they expected. Marching to the south. Marching until food started to run low. Marching until they found the stream that would become their highway for years to come. The fertile land to start their new life.
Jump to a young boy almost destroying the camp with his new ability. To the leader scolding his sun and trying to teach restraint. Jump to the boy leading his tribe to the flag pole to bury his own father. Jump to a young boy asking why the sky is blue and the grass is green. Lacking a good answer, she said that it is because somebody made it that way. Jump to that boy growing up with the vision of a higher being controlling everything. Jump even further to an established, yet wildly different form of Christianity. Jump to the bronze age. The iron age. The industrial revolution. Jump to everything they had tried to prevent coming full circle.
Societies had formed once again. Nomadic tribes had settled down and learned how to build structures out of stone, wood, metal, and even glass. The crystal skies which had taken generations to clear where starting to fill with soot. Not everywhere, but around factories it was very prevalent.
Jump to the creation of the internal combustion engine. While slightly different in look, identical in function. Jump to war. Jump to famine. Watch as they would begin to tear themselves apart from the inside. Watch as the flag of the
The king would rape and pillage the few remaining tribes that he could find. He would claim all that he could see for himself. He would kill any who opposed. He would managed to create a successful society, built on the rage and brutality that had afforded him his power. Watch as the king would fight, vicariously, through his soldiers and their tales.
Watch as the last of the torches band together, but with the main goal of claiming power for themselves. The fact that they would have to kill the king was just a side effect. They would storm the civilizations with brutal force. Killing everyone in sight and destroying everything that had been built. They would rip the ground apart. They would command powerful rains of fire which could lay waste to entire cities. The bloodshed would go on for years. They mounted a world tour, not that it took long to deal with any one area, but without using the new technology, travel was by foot.
Watch as they rip the world apart. Watch as years later the last Torch dies. Cold, alone, and powerless. The last Torch, lacking any kin, was also the last surviving person of his, or any other, order. Watch as the events that had been sent in motion, the ancient history of the new world, had finally come to fulfillment. No more death. No more hate. No more fighting. No more people. Nothing, but harmony.
Nature would be just fine with this. She always recovered. She was never worried about being killed, but wondered how long she would have to live in a half suffocated state. She now knew that the answer was, never again. Never again would she be witness to the hateful crimes against her self and others that had plagued her lands for as long as she could remember. He trees would regrow. The endangered species, which, until recently, had begun to flourish once again. She would remake the world in her image. In all of it’s splendor and beauty. The way it had been intended originally. The way no living soul could have ever pictured it. She was happy for the first time in too many years to count.
As a whole, the plant and animal life had gone mostly unaffected. There were a few rare birds and beasts that had been halted in the rebuilding of their large families, but they knew it would resume soon enough. No plant species were extinguished, but some were found to be lacking in certain areas. Entire mountains had been stripped of their greenery. Nature’s cloak and veil would have to be rebuilt, but 1000 years really didn’t seem so long away in retrospect.
She knew that she might have a painful decision to make in the years to come. She hopped that it would never become an issue, but knew that it might. Others had interfered before, and it was not beyond them to do it again. She had to come to a decision on how she would deal with another infestation if one arose. She knew that her brother was still alive, even if she hadn’t seen him for a very long time. He had always liked to play, for lack of a better word, God. He was actually the root cause to everything that had befallen his sisters planet.
His own experimentation with the creatures on his planets had led him to want bigger and better things. He had convinced his sister to let him place a few in her world. Just a couple. Just for a few years. Just to see if it works. At least that’s what he had said, but it is obvious how that had turned out. She was pretty impressed that they had lasted as long as they did, even if they did destroy as much as they could. She still wasn’t sure if those fiery ones had been an accidental mutation, or if he had snuck some in when she wasn’t looking. At first she thought they would be great, if not a little scary, but it turned out that instead of being exterminators, they had sort of reset the cycle just so it could all happen again. She was glad it was finally over. She never wanted to deal with it again, especially not twice. Once was entirely too much.
She had seen everything happen both times. She was too concerned with what she had created to be able to ignore it. Her brother had no issues with killing off entire species in his own projects. She just couldn’t do it. They all head their own personalities. She was just too attached to them all. It felt like she had just lost a very good friend, that she ha known for years. It also felt a little like being cured of cancer. Mixed feelings, for sure, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
Life by Fire
1.
People were dying in vain. No reporters to capture their story. No photographers to archive their valiant stand. Nobody, except the small army, would remember them. They would be remembered in the stories that would be passed down, but not in a good light. Most understood though that they would either die here, today, or somewhere else in the not too distant future. The worst part was that they had been spared for this long. It was maddening. It did nothing to strengthen their moral. In fact, they were all dead the moment Pyro shot his first flames in the street a few days prior.
Some of them still tried to fight, well as well as they could fight seemingly random bolts, and fountains, of fire darting from the sky and ground. Some just couldn’t sit down and let it all happen. It would happen either way and it made some of them feel better if they fought it versus giving in.
Pyro was starting to waver again. His resolve was strong, but he had expended far too much energy so far, and there was still much to do. The flames dwindled for a second and then went out. Mary’s were still running strong.
Suddenly a report rang out. By the time Pyro realized what had happened, he was on his back. Fragments of bone were scattered behind him. His entire body was in pain. He tried to move. He screamed. Mary looked at him and screamed. Her flames vanished in a split second. Another report. Another injury. A finger was lying a few feet back from Mary’s already disfigured hand. Blood sprayed from the bloody stump and she dropped to the ground. It hurt, but mostly it was the surprise.
Pyro drug himself up with one arm. His left shoulder blade had sprouted a very painful hole and felt completely dead. He noticed that the people were starting to advance over the expanse of crisp bodies that he had laid to waste. Nothing would keep them alive if Mary, or himself, was not able to get defenses in order. He tried to raise the wall again. It failed. Not even a flicker. Not a lick of flame.
He yelled at Mary, who either ignored him, or just couldn’t hear over her own sobbing. The people were approaching at a much swifter pace. Pyro and Mary were both very luck in the fact that they fell behind rubble that block the snipers view of any vital organs. Of anything at all. He didn’t know it yet, but he would be thankful that his injury went clean through and had only nicked a bone. Most of the damage was muscle tissue. Either way, it still hurt. He tried to light again. And a third time. And a fourth. And so far, nothing.
He crawled over toward Mary. He hoped that he could calm her down and get her to concentrate. He grabbed her arm and shook her violently. She tried to light him on fire, and if he hadn’t been who he was, would’ve been roasted almost instantly. The advantage here was that her outburst had cauterized his seeping wound. She had just managed to save his life for the time being, but if nothing new happened it wouldn’t matter.
There was only one reason that both of them were still alive. The heat that radiated form their fire, and from the molten street made the air shimmer and distort. The sniper, for some reason or another, did not take this into account. So what should have been a direct shot to the head, turned out to be radically off course. He would never make that mistake again. He would never have the chance.
He slapped her a little harder than he meant to. She looked up at him with teary eyes. Eyes which said she couldn’t do it. Eyes that cried not only for her missing finger, but for her pride. She had failed and didn’t think she could regain that. Pyro nodded. He understood without her saying a word. He helped her up quickly and started to retreat slightly. He needed to regain his hold on the situation and wanted all the time he could muster. The people were approaching, but the piles of bodies did tend to be a little unstable and arguably slippery. A number of people died just trying to cross the expanse. All it took was for one to slip on a skull, or a hand, etc., and puncture their lung on any number of protruding bits of calcium. One sap even managed to puncture his left eye, but did not die from it. Surely he would have liked that much better than the oozing mess that was dripping from the empty socket on his face.
He tried again. And again. And again. This was very bad. They were approaching, and he really couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t want to go too far back and put his troops in even more danger. He had failed, but he hoped to regain the advantage if he could figure out how. He dropped his hand and waved for his troops to retreat back to the buildings. He did not want any of their deaths on his head. They paused, and considered the command. After a momentary lapse of reason, they retreated.
The people were almost upon him, and Mary wouldn’t last much longer. An unarmed combatant lunged for Pyro, and missed by a very narrow margin. This had forced Pyro to move sideways into another’s arms. This was no friendly parent or friend, but instead someone that was going to see this finished, and finished right then.
Mary tried to engulf the area in flames as she ran forward to help him, but could not muster the strength, or courage, or determination. She was scared. She made it to Pyro right before he was to be tossed into the crowd and handled. She grasped at his ankle. She could reach nothing else. This would be her last chance. Either it worked, or it was over. No other options. Not other alternatives. It was now. It had to be.
She gritted her teeth and looked Pyro right in the eyes. He had confidence. He could see it in her eyes. It started slowly. A small, almost unnoticeable coal, burning in her eyes. The blackness turned to hints of red and orange. Glowing brighter than he had ever seen anything glow. Growing brighter still, he just stared. He would be ok. He just knew it.
They were dragging Pyro towards the General and Joe. The man carrying him was actually protecting him from the angry mob. Mary hung on to his ankle and was hardly noticed. With out even realizing, she lit a few of the people that tried to snatch her away. She was back, but it would take a while for her to realize it. Pyro was still useless as a flamethrower. He tried to kick and struggle, but it made no difference.
The trek to the General’s station was a very long one. Once he saw the child captured he made sure it was known that he wanted him alive. Wanted to be able to talk to him for a while before he was executed. Wanted to see if he could learn this little trick that had killed so many of his men. Torture wouldn’t be out of the question, but only as a last resort.
The other children watched from the shadows of the building. They feared the worst. They figured that soon enough they would all be dead. Executed for betraying the country. For being terrorists. Terrorist was still a huge buzz word. No one seemed to pay any attention to them. Everyone was focused on the little leader. The little leader who was now reduced to nothing.
Nobody had anyway of knowing if he would suddenly ignite himself, or anything else, but they just trusted that the General had a clue. He didn’t, but he was not one to be cautious. His bold composure drew in others as well. While they probably should have been standing back, as far away as they could possibly be, they just couldn’t. There was a draw to this boy.
Mary squeezed his ankle. He made the slightest nod. He knew what she was thinking. He just hoped that it would work. Mary squeezed one more time. He nodded again. It was time.
The children were blinded by the sudden rage of light and force. The shaft of, what looked like pure energy, shot straight up from center stage. It burnt the looming flagpole and ate the fluttering piece of fabric. It was powerful enough to uproot the concrete located around it’s base. The shock wave deafened everyone within 500 feet and killed those within 50. Those no more arms reach, or so, away disappeared. Even the bones were incinerated with exacting force.
Joe and the General were killed instantly. Joe was actually tired of waiting. The General knew in his heart that there was never really any other end that fit. All of the other people started to run. Mary was spent. She had used everything she could to save her friend, and now it was his turn to take care of her.
Pyro’s shoulder still hurt, but he figured that he could manage. He lit a finger, to test if all systems were go. They were. He directed a serpent to surround all of the retreating combatants. He completed the enclosure just before any were able to escape. He slowly started to restrict the diameter. The casual observer probably wouldn’t have noticed that it was shrinking at all for at least a couple of minutes, but those inside of it knew almost as soon as it started. Not only was it shrinking, but the interior was getting consistently warmer. The only way to imagine it would be sitting in a large oven and then turning the temperature up to a couple thousand degrees. It was very gradual, but no less deadly. Mary and Pyro were sweating, but not actually affected by the heat. Well, mostly anyway. Mary did manage to cauterize her finger during her initial burst. Not that the minimal bleeding would have killed her, but it did make her a little woozy.
Not only were people being toasted on the dark, or even burn, setting, they were also being cooked from the inside. The people closest to the walls were having major issues with their blood, water, and eyes being boiled in their bodies. The sensation, while quite painful, did not last long. It was a quicker death than removing an arm, or leg, and bleeding to death. They would never know. They were not amputees, and their minds focused on the pain with such clarity that 20 seconds seemed like the sum of their entire lives. Every second felt like a year. Or 10. 100. 1000. Eternity.
Pyro knew that he was being cruel, but didn’t do anything to change it. It felt good. His adrenaline levels were at an all time high. He was twitchy. Excited. Out of control. He knew it. He welcomed it. He enjoyed it. This was the rush that he had been looking for since that very first time. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing would ever be the same. He could fight a lion with his bare hands. He could jump of a building, if there were still any tall ones, with no chute, and it would feel like a little fan next to a tornado. Everything from this point on would have less flavor. Life would lose much of it’s luster. He didn’t care. Even if he did, it wouldn’t change anything.
The most impressive visuals, with the exception of the fire, came from a few people who had amazing deaths. One mans head actually exploded. Eyes punched straight out. Skull shattered. Brain matter squished into the surrounding victims. Most didn’t even notice, but a few did. One tasted it to see what it was, like he would know the taste of head meat right off. Another just stopped moving and started screaming. That only lasted for a couple of seconds. The sun was starting to rise.
With a final breath, Pyro brought his creation toward the center at blistering speed. It had the same destructive effect as a nuclear warhead. Picture the old military videos of a blast, and that is about how it looked. People were ripped off of their feet. Skin was ripped off the bone. Marrow exploded from every possible exit. In a split second everyone was reduced to ash with Pyro and Mary at the center of the former blaze.
2.
After the air had cooled by a few degrees, and the sun had crested the horizon, the children slowly made their way to their leader. It was a dangerous walk. There were random hot spots. There were enough bones to make some bone cabins, if anyone had been so inclined. They crowded around. Giddiness mixed with apprehension. They felt good. They felt dirty.
They talked for a few hours about everything that had happened. They discussed the proposition of being free. They were all in agreement with the original plan. Make the world into the type of place that it always should have been.
They all went in search of supplies. There were only a few buildings left, and they raided them for everything. One of the older kids decided that they needed a flag, and took it upon himself to be the creator. Hours of labor, and inexperience, paid off. They now had a symbol. A legacy. A crude flag that would ring pride in their hearts, and the hearts of their children. It didn’t matter that children would be way off.
Pyro and Mary stayed back while the others went. They wanted to honor the dead. They cremated all of the remains and let the wind scatter them where it saw fit. They returned to the pole and sat in silence. Pyro jumped at a meek voice that seemed to come from behind him. It was not a child’s voice. It sounded older. More sophisticated. He spun around and faced. Nothing. There was nobody there.
The voice told him to look down. He did, but still noticed nothing of interest. Janice, who was amazed that he could hear her, explained the whole story. She had been telling it some what frequently lately. That made it easy because it was still fresh in her mind.
Pyro explained his dreams. Illustrated his vision. She had no reason to doubt his tenacity. He had proven it already. After much discussion, she finally determined that she supported him in his quest, and was happy that he was willing to make such an effort for a cause he knew nothing about.
Janice spoke to Mr. Abbot quietly and he agreed as well, but had an interesting point that she had not thought of.
“My associate Mr. Abbot, brought an amazing point to my attention just now.”
“Why thank you,” said Mr. Abbot.
“The only true friends we have our each other. We also had a friend named Joe. Don’t worry about who he his, but he is here right now. We can feel him.”
“Ok, what does this really have to do with me,” asked Pyro.
“Well, we were thinking, or wondering really, if you would permit us to watch over this place. If we are going to spend the rest of our lives somewhere, we would like that somewhere to be right here. Right on the base of the flagpole. Would you permit us that honor? Let us be the protectors of this old world? The guardians? The watchers?”
“That’s fine with me. Is it ok to tell the others about you? I think it would make a great part of the story. Who would believe that there are talking bricks.”
Janice thought for a second.
“Ok. Just remember everything you told me. And might I suggest, that when you must honor one of your fallen leaders, which hopefully won’t be for many years to come, you bring them back to this place?”
“I promise that we will.”
“Someday we will meet again. Until that time comes, take care. Stay strong and you will turn out just fine.”
“Thank you,” said Pyro and walked away with Mary in tow.
The Future
1.
Skip ahead. Listen to the stories that were told. Enjoy the songs that echoed through the canyons. Pyro had done many amazing, if not bothersome, things in his past, but he had never realized the extent of his powers until he had met a little girl by the name of Mary. She had managed to draw greatness out of him. Her selfless attention and actions had inspired him. Death had almost claimed her and that had helped summon the courage that he would need until he passed years later. He would be leader of all the remaining humans on the planet. His select group of kids.
They would all grow to be men. They would teach themselves all that their parent’s forgot to teach them about survival. About living life. About being happy. At the end of the day, they were proud of their accomplishments. It would take many years to establish a cultural groove, but once they had, they ran with it. New religions. New methods. New songs. New thoughts. New stories. A new society. It was their world, and they claimed it. Helped it rebuild. Helped it flourish.
They started small. Sticks and stones were used to hunt. Their intellect and determination were their greatest weapons. They weren’t any faster or stronger. They weren’t experts. They just tried and prevailed.
Pyro was proud of everyone. They had survived. They continued to grow as a community and as individuals. Nobody ever complained about wandering about. They had learned to appreciate the open air, and the clear horizon. There were always new treasures to discover. New streams. New plants. New animals. New breathtaking valleys and massive mountain ranges. After a few years he would not remember what a camera was. He would take snapshots with his mind, and store them there. Sometimes he would dig around and remember all of the places that they had been. The splendor of nature was overwhelming at times, but he fought through it.
Mary and Pyro became great friends. They were the only two fire users so they would practice alone when time allowed. They would talk. They would try to amaze the other with new displays of skill or power. They would both become the greatest leaders that the world had ever known. The first of a new era. Even though they would be split up years later, they decided to have children of their own. This was years after the old world had been crushed. They were both young adults. They both hoped that they could have a child as unique as they were. They succeeded.
They would have five beautiful children. The fifth would not survive do to labor complications. They performed their own ceremony for the child. His name had been Damien. He would forever be remembered by his parents.
The other four children would roam between the two tribes that had been created. Mary was in charge of the breakaway. Pyro commanded the original. They would both teach the children about leadership. About responsibility, loyalty, and honor. All four children would grow to be leaders. A few years after the tribe was split into four units, Mary and Pyro would reunite for the final time. They managed to live out their last years in happiness. They were proud of each other. They were proud of their children. Proud of their people. Just proud.
The children were better than Pyro or Mary could have ever wished for. They all had an incredible drive. Their determination rivaled even their dad’s. Their compassion was greater than their mom’s. The youngest, even as a full grown woman, still carried her mom’s bear. She had made sure to take it when she left. It served as a constant reminder of her parents and it helped to feel that they were close.
Retirement was the best part of Pyro and Mary’s life. They were able to relax for the first time in way too long. They loved to watch the kids take control. They gossiped about what their tribes had been doing over the year. They caught up on all the years that they had missed each other. They lived out their final years in peace. They were content.
Their journey to the flagpole would take months once it was started since they had ventured far from where it had all begun.
2.
Many generations would come and go before the story of Pyro would be forgotten. When that day came, it would already be too late. Their fates were sealed from the beginning. He had tried to avoid it, but everything he did to hinder the outcome, made it that much easier for the cards to fall as they did.
His parting wish is that they didn’t remember him, as much as they remembered his ideals. He didn’t feel that he deserved honor. He believed that all those who had died, on both side, deserved the accolades. They were the reason he was able to contribute what he had. He still believed that anyone could make a difference, and that he was just the first step. For his life to have been worthwhile they needed to continue in his footstep, or make eve greater strides in the right direction.
Over the years following the start, he had come to believe that people were good, but that they could be easily swayed. He knew first hand how power could feel. How revenge could satisfy even the most savage beast. He had learned to kill most of the beasts within him, but there would always be some pieces missing. Hole he could never fill.
It took a very long time to come to terms with the massive slaughter. The destruction of the human race, which he had orchestrated almost entirely on his own. Mary and Pyro both lived with those demons for their entire lives. These were the parts left out of the stories. Out of the songs and heroic ballads. His young followers, even the ones that had been there, never really knew what had happened. Never fully grasped the scope and consequences of the actions. He hadn’t left the flagpole to honor the dead, but to remind him of the consequences if he ever forgot.
Even half a world away he could still see it. He relived that, and every other night before it. Every evening when he went to bed. He would wake far too often with a cold sweat running down his spine. He could have tried to find ways to get rid of the nightmares, but he just counted then as punishment. His penance. His curse.
He never forgave himself no matter how much better off he believed the world to be. It took a tole on every aspect of his life. He had split the tribes to push Mary away. He wanted to live without the constant reminders, but it had actually made things much worse. They survived it, but not without cost. Some things could just not be erased.
Years after the passing of Pyro and Mary, the tribes outlook had changed. Their great-grandchildren were the first to start making major changes. Every aspect of life would change over the course of a few generations. It would take much longer for the effect and changes to become permanent, but that is where it started.
The great-grandchildren’s children were the last to be honored at the flagpole. The trip would never be made again, but it would be attempted by one other leader after his tribe had been sent on.
Janice and Mr. Abbot were glad that Pyro had kept his word. While they waited for years, almost alone, eventually the tribe arrived. They knew as they saw the first person arriving. Pyro had finally perished. They were mournful, but somewhat excited. They had a feeling that they knew what was coming.
After the ceremony, Pyro, Mary, Joe, Janice, and Mr. Abbot watched the congregation leave. They were all very proud of Mary and Pyro’s children. They had done admirably well. They even mused over the new flag. The missing talon had been a nice touch, at least Mary had thought so. Pyro had to agree with Janice’s decision about this place. It might get lonely at times, but he had his wife, and three new friends to spend the rest of eternity with.
An unknown perk arrived when Pyro’s children passed away. While it was sad, he was happy to be reunited with his children. Mary was ecstatic. She had missed them so very much. They also got to meet their grand-children for the first time and then again quite a few years later.
After the great-great-grandchildren came to rest, they would never meet another generation. Never see another living soul. It was probably for the better though. None of them would have been proud of the way things were turning out.
The resting place was forgotten. There the watchers, Joe, and a good deal of Pyro’s family rested. There they stayed. Safe. Secure. Alone. Nature had taken care of them. She had taken them into herself and there they would be safe forever.
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