Flames of the Abandoned
The evening sun reflected against the smooth waves, and the relaxing scent of the sea breeze soothed his thoughts. This secret beach was Korban’s favorite place on the entire island. Here, there was no starvation, no death, and no other people. He heard the soft splashes the waves made on the many pebbles and the smooth sand under his feet. Korban put a hand on the sand and absent-mindedly drew a circle on it with his palm. No matter what happened in the city, this beach would always be here for him.
Sighing, he got up, noticing how weak and hungry he felt. Time to get back to the city. It was a long walk to the city, and by the time he was there, blisters and calluses covered his bare feet. Small, wooden dwellings surrounded him, as did the people. There were too many of them here for Korban to take. But he relied on them for food and money. He had a knife, but it wasn’t much good for hunting or fishing. Begging was his only chance for food.
Korban ignored the mindless chatter around him, in no way comparable to the sweet conversations of birds, and sat down at his usual spot. Yesterday was especially bad, since the sun was blazing hot and no one left their homes. Hopefully, today would yield more food and money. After at least three hours of excruciating waiting, Korban received a piece of bread from a plump old lady in colorful robes. He ripped it in half and devoured one piece. The other would be saved for tomorrow. As the day went on, the only thing he received besides the bread was a few coins. Even though it was already dark out, Korban still sweated from the heat.
As he was getting ready to leave, he felt as if something was watching him. He turned around to find a masked figure a little taller than he was. Korban recoiled in shock. It was dark, and details were hard to see, so Korban could not decide who this was or what they wanted. His questions were answered as the figure lunged forward. Strangely, the temperature also rose to a point where Korban felt like he was suffocating. Korban tried to dodge, but the figure was inhumanly quick, as if it were being launched by a cannon. The figure slammed into Korban, causing them to both topple over. Korban could get out of its iron grip and could feel burning fingers clasped around his throat. Panicking, Korban struggled to no avail. He was going to die, all right. But he wasn’t going down without a fight. Korban gathered his strength and pushed.
Instantly, fire erupted all around them. Korban could for the foul gas clawing at his skin, smoke poisoning his vision. Instantly, he dropped to the ground, rolling. The figure had released him upon his burst of flames. When the smoke cleared, it had disappeared. The fire had started and finished unusually fast. Unable to comprehend what had just happened, Korban collapsed on the ground, and everything went dark.
