Thomas awoke to an empty room, a single small ray of light streaming in from the window. He got out of bed and hastily dressed himself. He meandered to the window and looked out into the city beyond. Many buildings of varied sizes filled the view of the window, stretching for miles. Bright green hills painted the landscape beyond the city, cascading farther and farther away. The beautiful rolling hills were all eclipsed by a single tall, frosted peak barely visible from the city.
Thomas looked around the room, Osman’s bed was empty and unmade, the sheets thrown across it. His bag sat at the end of the bed, untouched. Thomas went to his own bag and began digging through it, finding the pistol and its holster that was issued to him upon graduation. The holster was made of a fine brown leather that was freshly polished and varnished. A small seal was embroidered into the holster, the seal sported a half circular olive branch with a silhouette of the Grand Lexopolis, the seal of the Danerin Confederation.
He fashioned the holster to his belt and placed the pistol in it, the weight dragging his belt a bit down his waist. Thomas tightened his belt and began putting his boots on. As he did, Osman entered the room, his hands filled with different fruits and pastries. He set them down on the nightstand between the bed.
“Eat up, we got another long day ahead of us,” Osman said as he began eating one of the fruits. Thomas walked over to the nightstand and sat at his bed, he grabbed a small loaf of bread and took a bite. The puffy bread was very sweet, its warm center was filled with some kind of honey.
“Sweetbread, a local delicacy,” Osman pointed to the bread as he chewed his fruit. He grabbed another loaf and began shoving that into his mouth. He ate like a pig. Thomas took slow bites relishing on each flavor. The island Thomas had grown up on was scarce for food, the occasional pig or bird was the closest thing Thomas had ever had to a good meal. Thomas ate a few more loafs of the sweetbread before grabbing an oddly shaped green fruit. He took a bite to find a sour taste filling his mouth, the juices coating his tongue.
“That’s a Mhan fruit, the acids in it provide a lot of nutrients,”
“It’s sour,” Thomas said as he spit it out. Osman laughed and handed him a small purple fruit.
“Try a sweet plum then,”
Thomas bit into the small fruit, the skin had a bit of tartness, but the center was extremely sweet and ripe. Thomas began eating the small sweet plums in one bite, stuffing as many as he could down his throat. Now he was eating like a pig.
The two men sat there and ate the many pastries and fruits Osman had brought. The only talking done, being Osman telling Thomas what a food was before he sank his teeth into it.
Slowly the light streaming in through the window began to fill up the entire room as the sun slowly rose further above the green hills. As the room finally finished filling with light, Osman and Thomas finished off the last of the fruits. Slowly they stood and each grabbed their bags before exiting the small room.
“Head for the hangar, I’ll check us out and meet you there,” Osman said to Thomas as they approached the metal doors at the end of the hallway. The same scarred men in the rag clothing stood there and as the lawmen approached, one of the men tapped on the metal door three times.
The same slow scraping noise could be heard from inside the metal doors. When it finally halted, the scarred men opened the doors to reveal the small metal room. Thomas and Osman entered and the men closed the doors behind them. Slowly the metal scraping was heard again as the small room descended. Upon stopping, the metal doors were opened by another set of scarred men back into the lobby.
Thomas exited the small building as Osman approached the small woman at the desk. He walked out into the city to feel a layer of hot moisture slap across his body. The humid air clung to every person walking in it, like everyone was freshly bathed. A band of sweat began to form on Thomas’ brow, absorbing the thick moisture in the air.
Thomas looked around at the many signs of the city, he could not understand the language written on them. Characters were formed by series of different lines and dots, like nothing the young man had ever seen before. He could not remember where they had come from and could not read the signs to figure out how.
Thomas began to scan the passerby, many men and women crowded the small sidewalks of the streets. Most looked like they were in a rush, hustling through the crowd never stopping for a moment. The smell of smog began to breach Thomas’ nostrils as he scanned the crowd.
Soon Osman exited the small building to see Thomas standing in front frantically searching for a sign of the hangar. Osman laughed and patted Thomas on his shoulder as he approached him.
“You won’t be able to read the signs here,” Osman sparked a cigarette as he and Thomas began walking down the sidewalk.
“Long ago different peoples in different places spoke different languages. That made the centralization of the world powers hard, so they adopted a unified language. Back home all traces of those languages were removed and replaced to speed up the process. The Spice Kingdoms are relatively free of control, but they’re smart.” Osman waved his hands around at the city around them.
“They caved to the centralizing powers and learned the language, now they make billions off of trade with those same nations.” He finished.
“So, they speak both languages?” Thomas asked as the two men walked and slowly came into view of the small hangar a few blocks down.
“Most do, not all very well, but most know just enough to sell to foreigners,” Osman replied.
“The biggest business’ here are services, services that are mainly catered and advertised to foreigners. It generates them tons of money, and being out of Danerin jurisdiction helps too.”
“Lawyers, prosecutors, judges, lawmen, soldiers you name it, they all come out here and go crazy. Prostitution rings, drug fests, illegal gambling, black market trading, it’s all legal for ‘em out here.” Osman continued.
The two men neared the small hangar and began walking into its open roofed courtyard. They continued on and headed for the small bay with the white ‘3’ on its rear wall. The stinger sat as they left it. Osman approached the wall where the man had entered the night before and tapped three times. The hidden door opened, and the scarred man exited from it. He gave Osman the keys and returned to standing at the side of the bay.
Osman and Thomas threw their bags into the storage area and entered the cockpit. As per usual, Osman began the sequence of starting the stinger. He slowly walked it out into the open hangar. In seconds the stinger had lifted off and done it’s usual of folding the legs in and the tail out. Soon after the city was behind them as the stinger hurtled past the cascades of hills.
The once barely visible peak came clearly into sight as it towered over the surrounding rolling hills. All across the hills were huge farms of crops, a few houses were scattered between them. Beyond the massive peak, a series of mountains began to form and spread off far into the distance. Past the farms was a large, lush jungle that kept the sprawling city at bay. The stinger soared over the jungle past the massive peak further inland.
Osman slowed the stinger a few minutes beyond the peak, after nearing a single column of smoke. Thomas looked down to see a small village in a clearing in the jungle, marked with a few huts and a central campfire. The Stinger slowly descended, performing its usual landing tasks. The stinger landed just a few hundred yards from the village. A small group of men began approaching the stinger as it leaned itself to one side on the ground.
The men were armed, but bore spears and simple swords. They wore simple clothing, small loincloths that covered their genitals. They sported different hairstyles, the only similarity was a clean shaven head besides a single point that their hair grew from. Osman and Thomas exited the stinger to see the group of men in a defensive formation.
A small woman began approaching from the village. She wore a long purple dress that flowed past her feet, she carried a large staff with many different animal bones on it. She wore an elaborate headpiece that sported a wide assortment of feathers, a single beak bone protruded from the headpiece above the woman’s eyes.
“That’s Kang’e she’ll straighten them out,” Osman whispered to Thomas as the two stood in front of the men with their hands raised. The little woman neared the men and said something to them in their native tongue. The men slowly lowered their weapons and began walking to the village.
“I’ve been expecting you Osman,” she said as she turned to the lawmen. She neared them and Osman knelt before her, jabbing Thomas in the side to get him to do the same. Osman held his right palm out to the woman who placed both her hands on it. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and turning to Thomas.
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Thomas, noticing what Osman had done, held his right hand palm out to her as well. She placed her hands on his and closed her yes for a moment. She opened them and slowly backed away from the two men.
“You brought me a special boy Osman,” she said as the two stood up before her.
“The ritual will commence at once, follow me,” she continued as she began walking further away from the village. Thomas and Osman began following her as Thomas looked to Osman.
“What ritual? What’s she talking about?” he asked Osman as they walked into the jungle.
“To get you control, I told you she’s the real deal.” Osman quickly responded. The three continued on into the jungle until they came upon a small, dilapidated hut in front of a large pond.
“Boy, undress and sit in the center of that pond.” Kang’e said as she pointed to the pond.
“Undress? Here?” Thomas replied, his cheeks blushing as he did. Kang’e turned to face Thomas.
“Only if you don’t want to be wearing wet clothes for the rest of the day,” she simply replied before turning back to the hut and heading inside. Osman found a small log and sat before sparking a cigarette.
“Start undressing, I ain’t gon let you ruin my seats,” Osman said.
Thomas began undressing, leaving his clothes in a small pile at the shore of the pond. After taking off his underwear, he quickly rushed into the knee high water before getting to the center and sitting down. He sat with his legs crossing one another in the center of the pond for a few moments before Kang’e reappeared from the hut. She held in her hand a large smoking pipe, with a yellow powder substance loaded into its bowl.
Kang’e waded to the center of the pond, drenching the ends of her long flowy dress. She held the pipe out to Thomas who slowly grabbed it from her hands.
“Smoke this pipe three times, inhale as much as you can. Three times. After the second it will be hard, but it is imperative you smoke it three times.” She said to Thomas.
“O…Ok…” Thomas said as he raised the mouthpiece to his lips. His thumb lit into flames, and he lowered it to the yellow substance as he inhaled. Thomas inhaled as much as he could before removing the pipe from his mouth and coughing. Instantly a tingling sensation came across his body, starting in his fingertips and toes. He brought the pipe back to his lips once more and continued inhaling. Again, he removed it only to cough, this time however his vision began to slip. Slowly he could see black flames rising around him and melting the world around him away. Thomas began to lower the pipe, before Kang’e softly raised it back to his lips.
“One more Tombstone,” Kang’e said, her voice echoing through Thomas’ head. Her voice brought Thomas back for a second, and he again inhaled as much as he could from that pipe. He began coughing as Kang’e took the pipe from him and began leaving the pool. As Thomas coughed, the black flames filled his vision and the world around him.
When he finished coughing, he found himself in that fiery dream state from when he was a child. He wandered through the flames for what felt like hours, never finding anything. Thomas could hear only silence.
Boy
Thomas heard the familiar voice echo from far away in the flames. He began rushing towards the source.
Booyy
Thomas parted a wall of flames to find a man sitting in the flames. He bore the same rag clothing as the men from the inn, his body even more scarred. He had long black hair that fell straight down to his shoulders, covering his face.
Thomas stared at the man for a few moments, the man appeared not to notice Thomas. Thomas caught his breath before taking a small inhale.
“Who are you?” Thomas said shakily, his voice cracking as he did. He was filled with immense fear, the man sitting before him oozed dread and terror. The man slowly looked up to Thomas, his long hair still covering his face.
“Calamity,” he deeply responded. Thomas’ heart dropped. The familiar voice that had been calling out to him was the man sitting in the flames, Calamity. Every lawman, no every person in the Danerin Confederation knew the name Calamity. He was a plague of a man that burned whole country sides, cities, and armies. He decimated half the continent before he was finally killed.
He stared at Thomas as the young man froze with terror. Thomas’ mind raced but his voice could not be found.
What is this place?
Thomas looked around when he heard it, only to realize he had heard his own thoughts. His confusion only deepened. The fires around him began to slowly increase in their rage and ferocity.
“Hell.” Calamity coldly responded. Thomas’ mouth moved before he could think.
“This can’t be hell, I’m not dead.”
“Not yet, but when you do, you’ll be here too,” Calamity said as he began a bellowing laugh.
“Who are you boy?” he teasingly asked.
“Thomas Stone,”
“I know that, but who are you really?” Calamity shot back.
“What do you mean?” Thomas confusingly responded.
Calamity shook his head and leaned back into his seat of flames. He brought his hands up and held his face. The black flames around Thomas began to rage violently until they swallowed him whole, erasing Calamity from view.
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Kang’e and Osman stared at the center of the pool. Where Thomas had sat moments ago, now was a raging inferno of black flames, with the abyssal skeleton of Thomas at its center. They watched as the fire raged and slowly got bigger and bigger. It crept near the edges of the pool, but never dared dance beyond it.
“I’ve heard quite a lot of stories in my time,” Kang’e said.
“Myths, tales, legends, whatever you wanna call ‘em that boy is a walking one,” Osman replied as he puffed on his cigarette.
“Slaves tell me tales from their homelands,” she continued not at all fazed by Osman’s comment.
“Yea? What kind of tales?” Osman questioned.
“Tales about their gods.” Kang’e swiftly replied.
“Good kind of gods or?”
“Never good ones, always the worst,”
“They tell me of their greatest god, the Great Destroyer Flame. They say it appears whenever the world becomes too unbalanced.” Kang’e said, the allure in her voice bled onto Osman.
“What do you believe?” Osman asked.
“Calamity was no god,” she said before turning back to her hut and heading in. The sun began to set as the flames continued raging in the pond.
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When the flames retreated, Thomas found himself in a small town in the desert. A few stone buildings were scattered around a large mining hole. Thomas wandered the small town watching as countless men dragged massive stone boulders by ropes through the sand. The men wore rag clothing and bore horrendous scars. Fair skinned men, dressed in blue uniforms monitored the men as they worked.
Thomas heard the crying of a child and immediately rushed in its direction. He found a small boy standing over a lifeless corpse of man. The young boy cried in his rag clothing, ropes tied him and the corpse to a large square boulder. Two guards came over and began harassing the boy, yelling at him to get back to work. The boy struggled and tried to pull the mighty boulder but it was no use. The guards laughed at him before donning small batons. One of the guards struck the young boy across the face with the baton.
Thomas, now enraged, attempted to punch the guard, but his fist slid through him into black flames. Thomas removed his hand to see the guard unaffected and not paying attention to him.
You can’t change the past boy.
Thomas frantically looked around as Calamity’s voice echoed out to him. Thomas turned back to watch the two guards brutally beat the young boy until a scarred woman ran out from one of the huts. She attacked one of the guards, jabbing her fingers into his eyes, before leaping on the other one biting and mauling his face. She bit the mans neck and tore a small piece out, leaving his neck seeping blood. The man fell to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him as the woman jumped back to the other guard. He managed to strike her with his baton and yelled for backup.
The woman jumped back on him and began mauling his face before more guards arrived and began beating her with batons. They dragged the woman off the man and threw her to the ground before continuing their assault. The young boy watched in horror as the woman motioned to him to run while she was beaten. Eventually her body went limp as the men continued beating her, causing all the working slaves to stop and stare.
Thomas watched as a dark snake with white eye shaped patterns on its back emerged from the sand beneath the boulder. The snake slowly made its way towards the back of the sitting boy. The young boy noticed it just before it sunk its fangs into his hand. The little boy screamed out in pain, stopping all the guards. The boys body went limp and crumpled to the ground before quickly erupting into a fireball of flames. The deep black flames shot out across the sands, chasing the guards. In seconds each of them was nothing more than a pile of ash, the fire retreated back to the young boy who now stood in front of the large boulder.
The world around Thomas flashed with the black flames and he found himself in a small town at the edge of the desert. Carts and wagons bustled through as men and women walked the street. There was faint sense of peace and security in Thomas.
That sense of peace vanished when a large black fireball erupted from one of the buildings, quickly spreading across the town and incinerating the townsfolk. In seconds the once peaceful quiet town, was a burning wasteland filled by the screams and wails of the unlucky souls who survived.
Again the world flashed and Thomas found himself watching as Calamity stood before a large gang of lawmen. The black flames erupted from Calamity, that abyssal skeleton still within, and instantly decimated the lawmen.
Another flash and Thomas saw another city burned to the ground. More lawmen, another city, more lawmen, another town. Thomas watched as thousands were incinerated by Calamity, it felt like ages. Thomas fell to his knees crying as he watched more and more innocent people be slaughtered. The screams never faded, only growing until an orchestra of deathly wails was all that Thomas could hear.
This is you; this is who you are. Thomas Stone does not exist, he’s not a real person.
Calamity’s voice echoed above the wails, pounding Thomas’ eardrums with each word he spoke.
You are the second coming of Calamity, YOU ARE ME.
“NOOO” Thomas yelled out as he found himself sitting in the pool again, Osman and Kang’e standing at the shore staring at him.
Thomas sat in the pond heavily breathing as Osman and Kang’e began wading out to him. He felt his whole body tensing up, like it was one giant muscle. He looked at his arms and could feel the tensing within them. Slowly he began to let his arms untense. As he did, black flames began to pour from his arms.
Osman and Kang’e stopped as Thomas quickly stood up staring at his burning arms. He loosened his tensions and his whole body erupted, and then he tensed up and the flames retracted back into him.
“YES. I CAN USE IT. WOOOHOOOOO.” Thomas yelled as he jumped as high as he could, exposing himself to Osman and Kang’e more so than he already had.