Chronicles of a So-called Fire God (Abridged)

12. Birth of the Fire God Remembered

After trading our tales and reaffirming our friendship, we retired to our rooms. The Goldhammer family were paying for our stay here at The Big Rock Inn, so we didn't feel at all guilty that we had the best rooms on offer. My room was larger than my childhood home, and every time I entered it I thought of that home and my mother. I'd not thought of my mother, or the men that took her away from me, for so long. This room was having an unexpected effect on me, one I'm not sure is all that healthy.

It was like I'd been telling myself I didn't have a mother. I set out to try and find her, of course, but I was too young, barely 5 summers old. Maybe younger. I'm not even sure what year I was born.

The watch found me, an urchin on the streets begging for food, no mother to speak of, not that I spoke around them, and so they put me in the orphanage. They called me a mute and gave me a name. Althis they called me because the Watch Sergeant thought I looked like his son, who had died three summers before.

The orphanage was a foul place. I'd not wish it on even my worst enemy. I hated every minute. It was run by The Matron, a soulless, heartless woman who did everything in her power to make us all feel miserable and a burden. We called her Dragon behind her back.

When I reached what the orphanage assumed was my twelfth year, I saw my chance. I'd been planning it for a while. All the time I was there I'd kept hidden my ability to start a fire by just thinking. No one knew, not even Rugar, what you may call my best friend during my stay. It was the day of Rugar's eleventh so-called Naming Day. No one knew our real age or naming days so they went by what age they thought were at arrival, the date we started at the orphanage was then taken as our new Naming Day. On the day in question, I snuck out of the poor attempt of a celebration for Rugar and headed for the pantry. No one was around as I'd expected there not to be.

In the pantry I sent a fire from the palm of my hands into the back of the small room. First the sacks containing flour took flame, followed by the wooden panels they were leaning against. The flames spread quickly and I ran from the room back to the mess hall. I arrived at the right time.

"Fire!" shouted Dragon. There was thick smoke already coming through the doors to the kitchen. "Everybody to the courtyard!"

Chaos was the only way to describe the evacuation. Kids were screaming or crying or both as we all charged, as one, a scared mob, towards the door. I didn't think that the flames could hurt me so I was a little slower than the other children. 

"Move it,  welp!" Dragon shouted at me. Obviously I responded immediately and started running towards the door, I did not want a beating on the day I was trying to escape.

Once outside I saw children running wild everywhere. The courtyard itself was a patch of hardened ground surrounded by a raggedy, four foot tall hedge. There were many gaps in the hedge and many of the hedge trees were brown, withered specimens on the verge of death. I'd tried all the gaps over the last two years but I was always caught and dragged before Dragon, where I would receive a beating. Dragon and the other "keepers" tried to calm the chaos and get all the children lined up so they could count us all. That was when the kitchen exploded.

Masonry was falling all around, flames leapt high into the sky and children and keepers alike were rushing for cover. I assumed that it was the cooking oils that had caught fire. 

While no one was looking at me, I slipped quietly through one of the gaps in the hedge and ran for the undergrowth of the nearby forest. Hiding beneath the leaves of the reasonably sized bush, I watched the orphanage burn. Villagers had turned up to help douse the flames and the keepers enlisted the help of the children to form a chain of people ferrying buckets of water from the river all the way to Dragon at the head of the chain. It was a long wait but I waited until I saw the flames were out and then dashed further into the forest.

I was slightly surprised that no one had come to find me, but then maybe they were glad I'd gone. I was known as a trouble maker during my time and even Rugar at times didn't want to be around me. I believe though that was mostly because he didn't want to be caught by Dragon in my company and face a beating for just being next to me.

The darkness in the forest was compounded by the fading light of the day. Even so, I was intent on putting distance between myself and the now ruined orphanage. It was tricky to manoeuvre through the forest, I fell over more than once and scraped my knees on the knots and twists of tree roots. Eventually I had to stop, the darkness meant I could not see very far.

Sitting down on the ground with my back to a tree I realised how cold it actually was. Autumnal weather was approaching and the leaves on many trees were already laying on the ground around me. They would be useful later to keep me warm in the dead of the night.

The snap of a twig nearby made me jump. I could see a shadow moving a few feet away to my left. Another shadow was moving to my right, it looked like they were trying to corner me. I sat motionless, not even daring to breathe. In my mind I was planning on using my flame ability to either scare or even hurt whoever was coming to get me. At first I thought it was the keepers from the orphanage, but then I realised they were too short to be keepers.

"Don't come any closer if you value your lives," I said. I could feel a tickle in my palm; the fire was ready.

"Argez glon selud," said the one to my right.

"Argez, Dern," said the other.

This was a language I'd never heard before. The shapes in the darkness were too short for orcs, less bulky too. These had to be goblins. I'd never seen a goblin before, I hoped that they were afraid of fire.

A cloud must have moved from the face of the moon. The scant light coming through the trees was enough for me to accurately judge my position in relation to the goblins and where they were in the small clearing with me.

I stood and stared at them. I was just a smidge taller than them, but there were two of them. In a straight fight I would have been killed in an instant. My only chance was fire.

Fire engulfed both of my closed fists. The flickering light illuminated my face in a menacing way and I had to concentrate hard to control the flames so I wasn't burned.

The effect was unexpected.

Both of the goblins, for now I could definitely see that they were neither human nor orc, stopped dead in their tracks. The look of awe and possibly even fear on their faces spoke volumes. They both looked at each other and then back to me.

"Hurt us no," said the one to my right. "You are Gransta?"

It sounded like a question, but their broken attempt to speak my language made it difficult to interpret.

"Yes. Gransta," I replied. I had no idea what I was saying, and yet I prayed to all the gods that I'd said it right.

Both of the goblins fell to their knees, one of them was weeping and muttering something in goblin. The same phrase over and over. I stepped torward the weeping one, flames still licking around my hands.

"No, please, Gransta, you my god. I worship you until die," said the weeping goblin. He held his hands up in defence of an expected strike.

"Tell me your names," I said. My head was stating to spin, I'd used my magic too long without eating.

"Dern," said the weeping one quickly. "He Gorrit," Dern said pointing to his companion.

"Excellent, I'm hungry," I said as I let the flames around my hands die.

"I get it," said Dern.

"No, me!" Gorrit said.

I sat down again while I watched my new subjects fight over who was going to get me some food. There I was, a god at twelve, with my own subjects. I nearly laughed.