When You Grow Up

The battle waged on for hours. The booms reached lands far away. Chris doughed every blow of the supposed Saviour of the people. The one they think will somehow liberate them from his rule. Stupid they are as they were when he was a child. But the Saviors's eyes blazed, and he could dough his punches no more. He fell to his knees with blurry vision. He couldn’t lift his broken hands. The Saviour lifted his hand for a final punch, but Chris had one last plan in mind. He threw a grenade on the ground, and a portal burst open behind him and sucked him in.

Peace and tranquillity persisted in the year 2023. Birds chirped, and the shinned bright on his home. But he disturbed the peace and quiet when he stepped out of his portal. His long red coat with a black dragon on its back brushed against the clean and boring street. His mechanical left eye, burned ear, messy hair, and the scar on his neck didn’t fit well with the past. But his pale skin, small pointed nose and sharp right eye had every stench of normality he could imagine.

He walked toward his home but froze as he saw his younger self of age six with his mother. Her teeth glimmered when she smiled. Her warmth comforted him even after all these years. His face showed no difference to her, for he reached her age of thrity, but he must focus. A dead woman is of no concern. What matters is his younger self. He must start training him immediately if he ever to defeat the Saviour. He followed them to his past school.

“I can’t pick you up today,” she said at the school’s gate.

“It’s okay, mother.”

She smiled and went away to her torture of a job. He waited for himself until the school bell rang. He followed himself. “Hey, Chris," he said when no one was around.

His younger self turned back. “Mother said to not talk to strangers.”

“I’m no stranger,” he said and lifted his hand. A flame erupted from his palm.

“Woo! But it's no big deal. I can do this too.” Small flames burst from his fingers.

“Yes, very good,” his eyes shinned red. “But you see that they are small. You are still weak. I can train you.”

“I have no use for them. I just use them to light up candles. Mother told me that’s what they are most capable of.”

“She’s holding you back.” He clutched his hand, and a spear of fire formed. “You can do so much more.”

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“Cool.”

In the backyard, both of them stood facing each other. “Your anger is the fuel. Think something to make yourself angry.”

The younger him nodded and closed his eyes. He moved his hand and opened his eyes, as a stream of fire came out. But a butterfly came in its path and got burned.

“I killed her!”

“The loss of life is inevitable.”

His younger self kneeled down and picked it up.

“Never kneel before anything,” he said.

“But it’s a butterfly. I rarely get to see them, and now I killed one.”

“That butterfly never cared for you, you should do the same.”

“The highest form of care is the one with no expectation of reward.” He stood there with an open mouth. “My mother told me that,” his younger self continued.

“Yes, I know. Now, focus.”

His younger self straightened himself and closed his eyes. He tried again, but his arm's sleeves caught fire. He hopped and extinguished it.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow? I have to do my homework.”

He looked away. “When was I so distracted.”

“What?”

“It is only you who matters. The world cares not if someone dies in a ditch somewhere.”

“I do. I will help them.”

“You… why?”

“Well, If I don’t, won’t I be just like them?”

“But you have power. You can make them fear you.”

His younger self chuckled. “People fear dogs.”

“We are not dogs. We are the rulers of this world.” His eyes flashed red.

“What’s so wrong with helping people?” said his younger self.

His eyes flashed blue. “Nothing… there’s nothing wrong. But the world—”

“You say it is only me who matters, but you care so much about the world?”

“No, I don’t. The world can burn, and I would not care.”

“If you say so.”

“What do you want to do in your life?”

“I don’t know. Make some money. Take care of mom.”

“But you have power like no one else. You should conquer every land. Have every wealth at your feet. Your word will be law.”

“Will mom be with me?”

“No… I suppose not. But you’ll—”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I…ah….” He turned his back.

“Hey, I have a scar like that too.” He pointed at his neck. “And yours looks… just like mine. Wait, how are you... how am I here?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” He saw his burned ear. “What happened?”

“What happens would be more appropriate.”

“What am I even wearing? Why is my face like that? And what is that scar—.”

He turned back. His blazed, and he pointed toward the house. “The scar is when I burned our mother alive in that house.”

“You burned… did you drop one of the candles?”

“We won’t be burning candles all our lives. We are more than that.”

“To have all the power in the world.”

He stepped forward. “Yes, all there is and more.”

“Then we can bring mother back!” His eyes sparkled.

“What? No.”

“No?”

“Well, because she died. We burned her.”

“I just burn candles, Sir. I don’t want to kill my mother.”

“It doesn’t matter. She died because of us.”

“Why would we want to kill our mother?”

“We never wanted it.” His eyes flashed blue. “It was an accident,” he whispered. “I was training in my room, and there was a gas leak and… I tried to save her, but it was too late. I… never wanted it.”

“Chris, who are you talking to?” His mother walked in.

“It’s…” Young Chris turned, but his older self was there no more.

A portal opened and sucked Chris in. The Saviour of the people looked around in confusion. The earth rumbled, another portal opened, and Chris walked out. The Saviour took a stance, but Chris kneeled; his eyes became numb, and tears fell.