PART I: RETURN

Prologue

The man's cape swayed along the blowing wind, emitting swooshing sounds only audible to him. The sound of the swaying grass along the wind was soothing. The crescent moon was partially hidden from the grey clouds and illuminated half of his face which was hidden underneath the hood he was wearing.

He stood across the plains, tall and his broad shoulders completed his stature in the dark. The little light reflecting on his face made his facial features more prominent, than they really were, making him look older than he seem. It was a somber night within the forest, birds seldom hooted this late in the woods in Meridian.

The eeriness of the forest gave him a feeling that was contradicting to the splendid night. The plains which he stood upon was significant as few as other historical landmarks in Meridian. Wars and battles, sieges were fought here. The good side was hardly triumphant then, but things changed when the Light of Meridian returned. No one walked in this part of the woods; too many memories here – whether it had been calamities then, no one dared to enter.

He started striding, making his pace quick and light. Across this forest was a small village where he was getting to was very remote and very far from the Meridian Castle. He had a good reason to be there, a task, that is. He knew it was a foolish one, what he was about to do, but this would get their attention. With all his thoughts put into this, one conclusion could be made.

This is the only way.

Minutes passed and the longer he took to get there, the more anxious he became. His heart thudded and a person listening to it would've thought that it was the loudest pounding of a heart from a single person ever heard.

It was unpleasant.

His heart continued to hammer and he felt a sharp, hard object hit his chest to where his heart was. He felt through his chest pocket where he carefully kept a small article which he was keeping until his task was finished. Then, he would have to return it to the person he took it from.

This isn't like me, he admitted to himself, I wish I hadn't stolen it, where else could I get it from?

In his pocket was a tiny stone – a talisman. Anyone living in Meridian would've heard of the great power this stone possess. It was called: the Fire Trinket – a small talisman, strong enough to create an enormous fire with a single contact with a match. The stone with an owner of a good heart: valuable. The stone with an owner of an evil heart: priceless.

The consequences would be an unbalanced payment to the innocent, and the glory would al go to the heart of the unclean. It was an unjust judgment. The talisman was thought to have been banished from the face of Meridian. Only recently in a few hundred years it has been found.

He didn't own the talisman, nor was he the one to find it. He stole it. He regretted his actions, but hopefully, everything that he wanted to do with it would pay off. He arrived atop a small hill overlooking the village of his choice to where he convinced himself would make the perfect place to put his mishap.

Most lights were extinguished and few residents were about. It was an innocent looking village and it made him feel worse. Someone just have to survive his calamity. He had picked a small remote village so not a large multitude would be hurt, but he was sure someone will. His biggest hope was that someone could at least be successful to survive and report to the Castle what had happened. The rest would fall into place.

If everything goes well.

He would have to pay for what he was about to do next, but this was just the only way to get them to listen to what he wanted – something… someone so badly...

He reached for his boots and pulled a small match, stroke it against the talisman and almost at once the talisman illuminated.

One single blow.

He blew, very gently, careful not to emit too many flames, or it would be a catastrophe. At once, a magnitude of flames rushed out and blew along the wind and made their way to the village. The flames, resembling to a golden-red dragon swirled around the evening sky, gracefully as a swan, fast like the speed of lightning, alighting every particle that they could touch into fire and heat.

A door somewhere opened and slammed, a woman shrieked a name in the dark -- a mother, perhaps? As quickly as it started, people came out of their houses. Children cried for their mothers, fathers crying for others to protect themselves. The happy little sleeping village was a site of fear and panic. The flames reached almost every standing structure and grew higher and wider.

The flames reflected the sparkle in his eye as he stood there watching. The roofs were alight, the cattle, the trees…

It's just a small town, everyone will get out, he persuaded himself as he turned around and returned to his bed to lie his weary head down and sleep his troubled spirit away, hoping that everyone could survive.

It was the only way… I have no other choice.

thePointingCompass