Warning: Chapter contains pain and death.
"Lukas," beckoned a soft, but rusty voice. A hand coated with shriveled skin extended from it's resting place to the core of light towards a small, dark figure beside the fireplace.
A young boy with gentle features clothed in what was supposed to be a blue tunic, but looked more like a potato sack sewn together, turned his attention from the fire and to the voice's host; staring observantly. The hand turned slowly, pained to do so, and curled its thin finger towards the rotting wooden chair in which the voice sat.
There, in the corner of the room, rested on old man who seemed to have lived as long as time itself. His hair and beard of white, his teeth either rotting or gone, and skin that hung from his body like over-sized clothing. His once blue eyes that washed out to grey were strained and constantly seemed to be focused but his mind was always elsewhere. They were old but experienced; seeing all that there is to see and more.
But the one thing that remained young about this man was his heart.
"Come here, my boy."
Lukas silently obeyed as he approached without a moment of hesitation. He settled himself by the old man's side where he proceeded to let fragile hand pet his head tenderly like always. The old man was gentle like a mothers touch, but he was more than that to Lukas.
"Your hair is so fine, Lukas. Like the softest wool that to have ever been woven. Almost like a women's, don't you agree?"
Lukas lightly jolted at the comparison as he looked up at the man and glared strongly.
"I'm only messing around." The old man chuckled as he ruffled the small boys hair teasingly. "You know, there's nothing wrong with being compared to a woman. They are as strong as a man, but have the charm of an angel."
Lukas couldn't hide the frustrated blush that burned softly along his cheeks, even though he turned his head in retreat of his emotions. The old man laughed for himself and Lukas as he continued to stroke the boys hair until he ran out of air and sighed with contentment.
"I wish to tell you a tale…" The old man shared out of nowhere. "Would you like to hear it?"
He waited until he felt Lukas nod his head softly under his palm before speaking any further. He moistened his dry lips with his tongue and took a small breath.
"A tale that has been told for centuries lives deep within the Elder mountain. Just beyond seas of blue, fields of gold, and skies of orange, lives a beast of red. Powerful, legendary, and menacing, he guards the mountain as his slumber.
He once raided the lands of life to claim as his own and had mankind hanging by the thread that once was a tapestry of culture, races, and diversity. He was so destructive that humanity turned on itself. Countries, neighbors, friends turned on each other and stole whatever they could get their needy hands on. War spread like a wild fire threw out the lands and disaster struck like angry lightning bolts.
Soldiers from all over the world tried to hunt the beast down to slay him; to end the misery and bind the hatred with forgotten trust. But with every travel, none would survive. Never to return to their towns, their homes, their families. Without a trace, they would venture to those mountains in seek of an answer and find is the unbearable truth. All were killed. All….except one."
"Old Man Pelly," Lukas interrupted impatiently. "What was the beast?"
Pelly hesitated. He grew as quiet as the night and his eyes focussed strongly on the fire; the reflection dancing in his dull eyes.
"A man." He answered; sounding as if he had tasted something bitter. He waited for Lukas to question him, but when the child stayed quiet, he continued.
"A man that could take the skin of a beast. A master of disguise. A true monster. Though he could think and feel like the rest of us, he still pillaged and destroyed without a second thought. I hardly believe he thinks about it to this day.….During the ages of war, the citizens would sing. They would sing their song of suffering as they choked on their tears and held clenched fists. The song echoed throughout the land and traveled deep into his home and lulled him to sleep. And one day, the reign of greed stopped. And people were at peace again…..and he was put into eternal sleep."
He paused; his grey eyes squinted with pain and his hand clutched his shirt. His breathing became raspy and his face twisted with displeasure. He was driven into a coughing fit where he proceeded to fall from his chair and display himself onto the floor. Blood lunged from within his throat and splattered on the ground like paint.
"Old Man Pelly!" Lukas called in a worried tone but still remained as calm as he possibly could. He rushed to the old mans side and dropped to his knees. He held out his hands that were ready to help and his eyes scanned the fallen body in search of a remedy for his pain. But all he could do was stare. Stare and try to think of something to do. Anything.
"...some say….that before he fell asleep…..he claimed will awaken again…...once the world needed taming again…..once the wars ended….he will call to the skies….and fire will fall like rain….and his time will begin once more…..."
"...How do you know all of this Pelly?" Lukas asked; his voice slightly shaking with adrenaline.
Pelly took the young boy soft hands in the old, crisp dry ones.
"Trust me." He managed to speak. "I just know."
Lukas watched helplessly as the old man gave him one last quiet smile before he closed his grey eyes softly and drifted away; his hand slipping from Lukas's grasp like a loose glove.
Lukas held the remains of his dear friend in his tiny hands and felt an overwhelming sensation eat away his insides. He eyes were empty and couldn't seem to stop shaking.
"Pelly.." He called to body quietly, shaking it for a response. "Pelly.."
Just as Lukas thought his world couldn't shatter any smaller, a loud bellowing call echoed from outside as strongly as thunder. The color from his pale skin flooded to white and his senses grew numb. He slowly unbent from where Pelly fell and shuffled weakly to the window that had more life than the room he was in did.
People scattered everywhere fled from their houses with sheets, pots, or pans covering their heads as they ran by. He looked to where they came from, all directions, and found nothing pursuing them.
He opened the door half-heartedly and stepped outside to find light balls of orange falling from the dark clouds that filled the sky. He watched as one fell right in front of his nose, almost mockingly.
Emptiness seized the boy as he stood outside of the doorway without a purpose. No purpose to run. No purpose to break down and cry when it wouldn't change anything. Nothing. His life had become nothing. And nothing would change that.
As Lukas tried to gather his sanity back together, a drop of fire grasped his cheek and begin to burrow in his skin. Lukas howled at the burning sensation that didn't seem to go away no matter how much he clawed at his face. He has been burnt by fire before, but this flame didn't cease burning.
He fell over where he stood and clawed at the ground; rubbing dirt viciously on his face to put out the pain. No matter what he did, the agony kept eating away at his skin. Everything became so overwhelming that his mentality couldn't handle it any longer. It shut down on it's own; his violet eyes rolling to the back of his head and closing as his body crashed to the ground.
Laying in the streets of the crumbling town, Lukas's fate was changed from that moment on. And there was no fighting it.