LET IT BURN.
SUMMARY| A cat who was once regarded as the sweetest cat within his Clan is now dubbed "Spirits' curse", his Clan now shunning him. They said he is "the maker of flames", for wherever he goes is plagued by vicious fire. He wants to clear his name - it is a ridiculous assumption, after all. But, then again, what harm would it do to watch others turn to the very ash that he walks upon today?
His own pawsteps were the only sound he could hear as he moved through the otherwise silent forest. He knew from the familiar, mildly pleasant smell of red oak, and the scent wreathed around him while he traveled. Ah, but it wasn't just any red oaks he smelled. It was burnt red oak, accompanied by the smell of smoke, which was oddly more pleasant than the smell of the tree itself. At the very back of his mind, he could hear faint yowls of horror, despair, grief, sorrow, and other depressing emotions amongst the small embers that signaled that the flames were beginning to die out.
The flames will not be the only ones to die tonight, the tom chuckled to himself at the thought.
Elsewhere, in another faraway corner of his mind, it inquired why he felt amusement for this, for the death of others, for the death of his Clan. These are not just any living creatures, he could hear a conscience of some nature speaking to him, they could be your family!
The tom's body suddenly convulsed with laughter as he threw his head back and vociferated his new-found mirth to the heavens. It had ceased as soon as it began, and he was composed once again. His conscience responded again, How dare you laugh at your family's possible demise! What if they died-
"My family is already dead!" he said aloud, his tone shaking faintly with a dark chuckle. "They died moons ago, now why are you pestering me about this?"
A silence had taken place, but it was momentary - much to his chagrin. That was your Clan. It responded... with feeling? Conscience was supposed to be a part of your thoughts that monitored what was right and what was wrong. Since when did consciences speak with feeling? He did not have time to dwell on the thought, because it spoke up again. That was your Clan once. You used to love your Clan! How could you become so cold now?
"Cold?" he replied, amusement making his mew oddly cheery, with quite the dissonance considering what had just happened here. "I am quite warm. You know that, don't you? You are a part of me, are you not?" Silence filled his mind, and he welcomed it. Still, he continued, "You should be aware of how they treated me when that first fire attacked the Clan when I was young. How could they suspect a cat of igniting fire? I am not a Spirit! But, they accused me anyway. Especially those damned elders, they treated me as if I were an omen! 'He should have never been born!' they said. Well, look who is alive today and look who is dead now. Yes, sure, I did love my Clan, but my Clan turned their backs on me. Who cares if they die now? As I said before, my family is already deceased, so there is nothing left to care for.."
Arson! He groaned as the conscience spoke up, nearly yelling in his mind, That is cruel! Sure, it was not kind of them to say that to you, but what would you be to stoop down to their level?
Arson moved ahead, not bothering to respond to its question. The conscience... was a very bothersome thing, he had decided. It worried too much, and did not seem to completely understand him. So, what was it? In fact, although the conscience was supposed to be a part of you, it seemed to be viewing this from a third-person perspective... and that could not be right. I will not dwell on this, he thought firmly, willingly blocking out his conscience's rant about virtue. Virtue? Virtue did not exist in this world! Only the Spirits were virtuous, and they were many seasons older than him, his "Clan", or the other Clans here. No, he could not be virtuous... Watching them burn to ashes alive was much more fun than that outdated concept.
Yes... he thought with a sudden gleeful emotion, Let them burn for all I care! His body convulsed with manic laughter as the sun crept up and began to settle itself in the sky. The sunlight had a quite particular arrangement; it lit up his red tabby fur in such a way that it made it appear like fire. Ah, yes, fire. He would purposely stand by and watch this Clan - maybe even the other Clans - slowly die out while the flames came and went, possessing and claiming whatever they please.
Arson admired them greatly. What freedom they have, even if their moments spent here were fleeting at best. He could not be the flames, so he will watch the flames, to his last days walking on the beautiful charred earth. As his cachinnation built up with a grand crescendo, and his eyes wild with sick glee, one would say he was quite the lunatic.
A/N: Hopefully that isn't too bad. Hello! This is my first fanfiction I have posted here since making this new account. :) I came up with this idea while looking for how to paint fire. Then, arson (the crime) came to mind... and then the main character and subsequently, this story was created! Yay. :) Well, please, if you feel like it, tell me what you think of it in a review. If you are C.C.-ing - or using constructive criticism - please do not be too harsh. Be honest, but not too harsh. Note that grammar is not particularly my strong suite; that, my good friend, is spelling. Ah, hope you enjoyed it! :D
FUN FACT: Arson's name is a coincidence given that cats do not know what 'arson' is. His mother just wanted him to have a unique name, so she made up one. Yes, she received MANY grievances for the "out-Clanner" name. A real life example of this would be... Hmm... The kid that got his name changed from Messiah to Martin? Oh! I made the cover picture using images from Google and the GIMP program. The images belong to their respective owners, however, I own the edited version of the two photos.