Saturday, October 25, 2014

Encounters with The Wanderer: The Forsaking (short story)

        I do not know who you are, young one, or why you are inquiring about the child of Fire. But I do not imagine this information to be dangerous, so I will tell you about my last encounter with Kuna Zero, or the Wanderer as you call him.
        It was some time ago (although time seems broken in this desolate world), not long after he and the others had left to battle the tyrant god. He arrived alone and in great distress. His katana was drawn, but its flames extinguished. By his appearance alone, I deducted that something had gone horribly wrong. I called out to him and approached him, but upon seeing me, he fled deeper into the city. You see that I am an old man, and have been for a long time, but I am far from helpless. Calling upon my spirit's strength, I changed my form to that of an owl and quietly flew after him.
        He stopped not far from here, in a park that had been ravaged by Nightmares before the grey came. He stood before what had once been a flourishing maple tree and then fell to his knees and wept. When the teenager's tears had dried, he got back to his feet and pierced the tree with his blade. He turned to leave; however, the tree had burst into flames, as well as some of the grass that surrounded him. He let out a sigh and turned to face the black cat who had materialized in the fires on an outstretched branch.
        “Is this what you wish for, Kuna?” The spirit of fire asked.
        Kuna shook his head. “Of course not! But I can't be the hero you all need me to be!” He fell to his knees once more. “I'm not my father! Seth wins this time and there's nothing we can do about it!”
        “So you are giving up on this world you once called home? Will you reject all that you vowed to protect and forsake all those that you love so dearly? Will you simply turn away as each one of them falls one by one to the darkness, even though you might have had the strength to save them? Most of all, will you forsake me in this terrible grey, only to be lost within it yourself?” The spirit replied with a fiery wisdom. It is to be expected of the oldest children.
        Now, at this time, I had half a mind to intervene and tell the child that he was being foolish and should not abandon his flames, but then I sensed a power not much different from his own approaching downtown. I suppose he sensed it too, as he quickly got to his feet, looked around and faced his spirit for one final speech.
        “Old friend,” he said in solemn haste, “I am too weak, too cowardly, to fulfil the duty that you ask of me.” He sighed. “Find yourself an appropriate partner. Farewell.” The child burst through the flames and disappeared into the distant grey.
        As he ran, his spirit's voice resounded through all of Montreal. “Return, oh Wanderer, when the day of clouds is over!” Then everything went silent.
        That is the last I saw of Kuna or his spirit, but perhaps you would like to see the place where those very same flames wait for him?
        Yes? Very well. Follow me.
        It i quite beautiful, isn't it? Once the child had run off, his spirit sighed, jumped from the branch, and disappeared into the ground. Flames spread across the ground, even going beyond the boundaries of the park. Then they too were absorbed by the earth, and in what felt like mere moments, the radiant forest before us had formed. It is amazing what exuberant power the child of fire possesses.
        What's that? You wish to go in? No, we cannot. I have tried before. When I drew close, the flames erupted out at its border, blocking my path. Only those the spirit chooses can enter, like the child of wind. I do not know her name, I admit. Nor do I know where she had been hiding for so long. What did she look like?
        Well, she seemed to be about the age of Kuna at the time. She stood with a broken will within her and carried an aura of abandonment. Her hair was long and light brown. Somehow she still retained her color. At first she was bundled in winter clothing – for the snow had not yet vanished – but she quickly shed the unnecessary garments and was wearing blue jeans with a vibrant green top.
        She had been led to the forest by Anis, a spirit who has, since ancient times, served the Four nearly as diligently as the emanations themselves. It was only under her guidance that the child of wind entered the forest and has not emerged since. That is all I have to tell you, I am afraid, but if you search for the Wanderer, then there is little you can do but wander as well in hopes your paths cross. I do not know of any other survivors. Good luck, child, and farewell.

-Zero

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