Hero


Does life truly lead to death? Or does life just lead to life?

How could we ever know? How could we ever find out?

Only one way…

I've completed this adventure a hundred times, and started it a hundred times more. Is there life after death?

The sands of time, the hourglass, are reset, again, and again, and again. How do I remain?

There is a legend, in my current station, of a hero. One with spiky hair the color of burnt sand and eyes claimed by the sky. If my memory serves me well, I know this hero.

I know him very well.

It's time for the hero to return.


"Elphaba, where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that
aren't true. We call it history."

-The Wizard, Wicked (the Broadway musical)

Of many days, of many nights, have I traveled. Though the same in spirit, I change each time. Sometimes female, others male. Sometimes strong, others weak.

Sometimes my true self.

Life after life, I have searched for him. The boy of legend, of fact.

True legend is nonexistent; legend is based off of fact.

In the past, I have come across him, interrupting his adventures.

Predictable, too predictable.

I have decided, I tell her. This time I will succeed.

There is no questioning my statement. None at all.

And suddenly, there is nothing.


In my station, it is said that certain eye colors grant you power. In previous stations, I've seen power be determined by wealth, strength, dedication to religion.

It is said that those with green eyes can control an element, one that is determined at their birth.

Those with brown can speak to the gods.

Orange or yellow eyes indicate the ability to speak any tongue, of any country, without any previous knowledge of the language.

Eyes that remain gray are forever blinded, barred from the gates of both Heaven or Hell. They are said to be able to predict our future.

Blue eyes grant you unimaginable powers.

I, like all others, was born with gray eyes. Within the tenth and fourteenth seasonal cycles of growth,the color was to develop gradually.

It did not. I was thought to be a trapped soul,doomed to forever wander my current station past death.

On the solar cycle that was precisely fourteen seasonal cycles after my birth, just before I was to be pronounced worse off than dead, I awoke to find myself different. For several sparkes, I noticed no striking change.

My skin still held its light tan. My brunette locks still held their dark, sandy hue. But my eyes...

Disbelief tore through my mind, and I found myself with the inability to move even a single muscle. My reflector must have been playing tricks on me again, like when it envisioned me with dark onyx hair and sizzling yellow eyes.

...Yes, that had to have been it.


Authoress's Comments: So. I return after... I don't know how long. I'm not making any promises, but I will try to stick to this story as best I can.

However, I can promise extremely slow updates. Sorry. I won't give my reasons though.

I hoped you enjoyed the beginning of "Hero".

Read&Review please!

-Bug of Fire,

The PyroScorpion