Fire, danced playfully along his arms as Ryan held the knife in his hands. It was so easy. He spun the butterknife gently on the tip of his fingers, and the fire laughed along with it. Ryan smiled. He loved fire.
"Ryan!"
He spun around and instinctively thrust the butterknife into his pocket - the fire extinguished. A fairly tall, slender figure stood just beyond the shore, waving at him. "Mother's calling you," it said.
Mother, Ryan thought to himself and at once began to leap clumsily across the rocky seashore. "Coming!" He shouted. The rocks were harsh beneath his bare feet, scratching and bruising, but...but mother was calling him, mother.
Ryan jumped over the last few rocks and landed on the grass with a wide grin. The figure beyond the shore was easily visible now, grinning from ear to ear. He had short black hair tinted brown in the ever-present sunlight and the most surreal amber eyes; just like Ryan did.
"Great going, Einstein," he said, "you have shoes for a reason. Now give me your hand"
Ryan frowned and looked at his feet, then looked back up and shrugged. He held out his hand toward his brother and placed it on top of his. Then as quick as the click of a finger, they were gone.
Ryan and his brother materialized in the midst of a warm woodland cottage with creaky floorboards and a beautiful blazing fireplace. Beside the fireplace was a rocking chair; it was old and splintered, padded by a pretty red cushion and some golden tassels. The chair seated a woman - a woman with long hair tied back in a messy bun and a pair of wire rimmed glasses.
"Mother," Ryan whispered.
The woman glanced up, a little confused at first but then her eyes met with Ryan's and she laughed. She stood up from her chair, smiling, and spread out her arms.
Ryan beamed. He jumped right into his mothers arms and squeezed her so tight that he didn't even let go "Alright, alright," she said, "let me breathe"
Ryan let go and laughed - he felt like a little kid again, the way he used to be.
"I've missed you so much Ryan!" She said, looking at him as if he'd been gone for years.
"I've been only gone for thirty minutes, mother," he reminded her.
"but it felt like a decade to me"
She put an arm around her son's shoulder and sighed. Her fingers were a little cold despite the time spent by the fireplace but Ryan didn't care. He looked up at her and smiled, "So whats up?"
She didn't respond, instead she looked over to his brother and nodded. Obediently, he stepped back giving Ryan one quick smile before he disappeared. Mother took a moment to check that nobody else was there and then took Ryan by the arm. She guided her son over to the cabin window, looking out on fields and fields of lavender bushes.
"You have it don't you?" She whispered.
Ryan raised an eyebrow, "Have what?"
"The knife, Ryan...the knife"
Ryan pulled back and stared at his mother in disbelief.
"It's okay," she said, "I've always known. You can keep it"
"H..how?"
She flashed a smile, "I'm your mother, Ryan, I know everything about you"
Ryan thrust his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers tight around the handle of the butter knife.
"Now give me the knife" she said.
He tightened his grasp, "but it's mine"
"Just for a moment, Ryan"
Ryan pulled out the knife and placed it on his mother's hand. She tightened her grip around it and then handed back to him. He raised and eyebrow, clearly startled.
Mother stepped back and smiled at him sadly. She watched as the door creaked open and through came the softest summer breeze. It blew throughout the cabin, slowly taking a piece of everything around him. First the, rocking chair, then the rug, then the coffee table and finally, it greeted his mother. She looked at him one last time and couldn't help but smile, "the last ember of a burning fire" she said, "go shine, my boy". Then as she stepped back and closed her eyes, the breeze carried her away too.
Everything went black and Ryan stirred into consciousness.
