It was another day full of the same fiasco; pagoda, dueling versus other wizards, going back and challenging enemies who can't even stand a chance anymore. How long has it been? Time has been forgotten about as the seat suddenly become all too cold and she stands. No one else inhabits this castle, no one else but her and the beings that she communicates with. Has she gone mad? Finally has she cracked after time and time again of pressure placed on her? Impossible.
With swift steps she's outside, and almost immediately as her boot lands on the brick bridge, a green dragon awakens from its slumber and joins her. The wizard mounts and once again she's headed off to who knows where. Anything but exploring, the world; this spiral on a map, she doesn't want to see them anymore.
It's ironic, fire, that's what she is; the caller of fire, destruction, yet they called her a savior. They say she can control the flames, they say she's saved worlds upon worlds and helped so many people; but it only feels like she's done nothing at all. Happy, she was supposed to be excited, happy; but she's cool, casual and regretful. Maybe even pitiful. It was in her blood; destruction. Her teachers were proud of her, glad they chose her to become one of the bests. Though she was disappointed in herself more than anything.
When it happened neither her nor her comrades knew. The change was as swift as the stab of the spear she loves so dearly. Maybe it was her failure, the mistake on her part that ended what was to her a world. The realization that this wasn't easy, oh these things never were. They left her, along with her own hopes and determination. She left them to face their end, and it hurt.
He knew that she loved that place. It wasn't abnormal for her to love the exotic, after all what do you expect from a girl living alone in a flying castle? It was dark, outside in this elegantly calm place. If you looked hard enough you could see the figure of a dragon flying about. With a smile, he called it down, he had that ability; after all he was related to the wizard riding it.
He looks at her and she stares back, with the slightest hint of a smile on her features. He smiled back and asked if they could go elsewhere; he was getting tired of the scent of dog. Seeing her in thought he quickly mentions they could go back to the city and play in the small lake like they used to. With a raised eyebrow, she asks why, and he realizes she thinks it's childish.
They are children, children facing issues children shouldn't face; and that's all they will ever be. The siblings realize this; they always have; even when facing off what they thought was the main source of their troubles. They used to be able to cast immature spells on others who would get irritated and they would laugh together, running off to do whatever they could to enjoy life. Now it's a miracle to even breathe safely. They have responsibilities, duties they have to fulfill now that everyone thinks they're heroes.
Heroes they never were.
They had a friend, an older sister of the ice school. A girl who smiled and wore a bear hat, she would always reek of the forest and would always be so diligent in getting things done. Jealous, they were, of this older sister of theirs. It didn't stop them from speaking and fighting with her against the troubles. The girl with the bear hat from the ice school soon disappeared; along with the nature that followed her. Sometimes they miss the smell of bears and forest, as earthy as it was. Inside, the two of them know that the only reason they still run around these worlds is to once again find the smell of forest, and tell it how grateful they were.
Afterwards, they stopped talking with others other than themselves and they watched the world around them change as the 'heroic' deeds they accomplished piled up and more responsibility was placed upon young shoulders.
All the time when they were younger and full of spirit, she would turn and tell her brother how they would never go down without a fight. It's lived up to the name they've made for themselves, and now, sitting on the grass in front of the small lake, spear and bow discarded in a neat pile with their backpacks, they sit back and it's almost as if none of this had ever happened. They would become as childish and naive as they could, even if for moments live the life they should have lived. Even if it was a pretty little lie, it was a lie worth living.
Sometimes, during difficult times; they would sit in the cold, huddled together in front of a fireplace. They would just smile and enjoy the times that they could joke around and watch as their pets do something stupidly funny and laugh. It was sad, terribly sad, that this is how far they've fallen out of line. Then again they never had a habit of staying on lines anyway.
Sometimes, Iridian Strider would go back to the place inhabited by bears, and leisurely stay there, within the memory of the Victoria who smelled like the forest. Then sometimes, Alexander Strider, would return to the lake, and wade in it for a while; enjoying the cool feel of the water. Other times, the two siblings would explore together, moving forward in a world full of fantasies come true. Somehow, they liked it this way. The feel of the cold, the heat of the flame, and the feel of the ground beneath their feet to tell them they're alive. They would look at each other a door before the end and smile; the smile of the fire that she breathed in every day, and the smile of the storm that always rained on around him.
They were never Heroes, nor were they proud of themselves. They were older minds in children's bodies. They've lost so much and gained little in return. But if you were to ask them if they could change it all; the only response would be.
I wouldn't have it any other way
