Chapter 3
Blaze
Steam rose from my pants as I pushed my legs towards the noise. I crunched through branches and jumped over logs. One log was too high for my skill and I crashed forward. Mud caked my face from the fall, but adrenaline forced me forward. I scrambled to my feet and kept running. I must have landed on something wet as liquid fell from my side. I tried to brush it off as I ran, and the liquid kept flowing. I was frustrated I couldn’t clear off the liquid and decided to look and my side. My shirt had a growing bloody patch.
That’s funny, I don’t feel injured. Did I fall on some berries or something? My brain tried to reason it out. My momentum was slowing when I heard a higher pitched scream. It was a death scream at the top of a woman’s lungs. I decided to ignore the wound for now and push forward.
I broke free from the brush and saw the stream and a body floating down. A woman in the distance was yelling from an inlet of the stream. The body floating down was slowly thrashing, as if tired and fading. The stream was pushing the body with force. It looked like the body had a head wound of some sort. The body also had khakis and one polished shoe on. The other shoe had come loose and was floating down in front of the body.
It took me a moment to realize it was the bank manager. The couple must have been the hiking couple from earlier. She was watching him die knowing that if she tried to go in deeper to the current, she could be swept away too. If she tried to run on the shore, the wild fire would catch her. She was running toward the bank manager splashing with each step. She slipped and fell into the water. She began to become swept up by the current and grabbed a branch nearby. She saw me and screamed for me to help him. She didn’t care that she was moments away from her death. While they didn’t seem like a match from an initial glance, it was obvious she loved him deeply. She was willing to scream for help for the near dead body, with herself in peril.
I didn’t think. I should have thought. Why didn’t I think? I jumped in after the body. The water felt cold and stung my side. I couldn’t get a grip anywhere except on the former bank manager. I grasped for the river bed's stones with my feet and kept failing. My shoes, though tied well, kept threatening to be pushed off. I knew that if this man were to have any chance, he needed to float on his back. Men drowned in inches of water when laying on their front. Laying on his back, perhaps he could be saved. I grabbed and turned him, so his mouth was out of the water. That twisting motion put my mouth into the water.
I kept swallowing water. So much water kept flooding into me and I lost my consciousness for a moment. A sharp rock in my back thrust water out of my mouth and crashed me back into reality. The bank manager, whom the town relied on, was still on his back. Somehow I still was floating close enough to him to grab ahold. I spotted an inlet further down. I knew I couldn’t swim towards it, but all I could do is push off while hugging him. Perhaps the momentum would be enough to get us toward the inlet. The water somehow got louder. It was as if the world started whooshing in my head, and blackness approached from the side. Right before I passed out, I pushed hard with my legs against the stones below. I hoped it would be enough. I hoped that we didn’t turn over in the water and drown. I hoped the bank manager’s love didn’t get swept away with us.
My last thought was odd. Did death always come with a unique revelation? Perhaps it is these last moments that reflect our true nature. My last thought, before the blackness of chaotic water consumed me, was: ‘I hope Thunder doesn’t get lonely.’
I then felt him. Not with sound or sight, but something deeper. It was something in my blood and bone that said he was there. Somehow, I felt connected to him. If I were to die, I was glad that he was near me. A moment of blackness later, light crashed in as water crashed out of my mouth. I sputtered and gasped for air. The ground beneath me wasn’t water, but solid earth. I turned and continued coughing out water. My throat felt raw, and I could see small bits in water I threw up. My head turned up to see a woman performing CPR on a guy. My brain was so fuzzy. Why was she doing that? Did he go swimming or something?
After a few moments of watching I could see the woman was the photographer from before. ‘Good, she wasn’t swept away in the water,’ I thought. I knew the other person must be the bank manager. His pants were ripped and his arm and head were bleeding. I saw him start spitting water out and a sense of deep relief passed over me. He would live. He would live.
I then heard popping and crackling toward the side of us. The forest fire had caught up and was ready to consume us. I am glad I was able to do something. If I was to be burnt alive instead of drowned, at least I would do so with these people. I stumbled toward them and started to pick up a little speed. I must have looked like a shambling fool, but I reached the couple quickly. She was crying, kissing him with abandon, and clutching him. He was telling her to stop being such a romantic fool. Tears were filling his eyes as well. I felt like I was crashing into an intimate moment. A bubble of their moment meant only for them. An embrace of one last love before death. Perhaps I should have stood there and let them have their moment. But I was lonely, so lonely, and needed some kind of companionship.
He saw me first. “Hello friend, who are you?” he asked. A kindness was tinged in his voice. I could tell he was a real people pleaser. It was obvious why so much of the town relied on him.
I smiled and looked him in the eye, “Wyatt, we met earlier.”
“Watt? Like a light bulb? You must not be bright if you're here with us.” He said, still charming people even being near death.
As I listened, a shape faded into view behind the couple. The shaped resembled a man but was like a shadow made of wisps of smoke. The couple didn’t appear to see the shape. Near the shape were all the things normally found in a forest. These things didn’t look like normal objects for some reason. Trees were not trees. Rocks were not rocks. The grass was not grass. Sure, they looked like those objects, but they had some knowledge on them. It felt like I could pluck a blade of grass and read how long it took to grew. I could see how the wind had etched the patterns within it. I could see how the bark on the trees was blown off. I could see how an animal had stomped this way weeks ago. It was as if I could read the forest in a way that had never occurred to me. I could see the wind as it was now, and as it had been. I could see other beings in the sky floating around. I could see some beings running through the flames coming towards us.
“…Hit his head. He saved you, but must have hit his head…” came the woman’s voice.
I didn’t care what she thought about that at the moment. I started wondering if the shape nearby the couple was Thunder or not. I felt my back, looking for the sword that was there a moment ago. Somehow, by some small miracle, it was still slung across my back. I stared at the couple as I unsheathed the blade.
The couple’s eyes both grew wide at the mad man unsheathing his sword in the woods. After all, who has a sword in the woods? I swung it a couple times, and it whistled. The figure near the couple then darted toward the sword and through the metal. It was a loud whistle that startled the couple even more. I didn’t know how I was able to see Thunder so well but assumed it must have something to do with the forest fire or being near death.
It was amazing and frustrating. I had just discovered a new sentient creature on earth and was now going to be consumed by the forest fire. Life was not fair. First I lost my job, then my friends left me out in the woods. Like most frustrations, when a person starts thinking about them, more flood the brain. ‘Then I forget to pick up more marshmallows, and I didn’t want to go back because of that clerk’ I thought. ‘I will never have marshmallows again’. That irrational thought made me angry.
That clerk made me miss my final marshmallows! No more smores! I spun on the fire, sword in hand. Perhaps I had hit my head pretty bad in the water. Maybe all the frustration was starting to finally bubble over. I stood at the forest fire, couple behind me, and yelled a single challenge.
“Marshmallows!” I yelled
at the top of my lungs at the forest fire. I felt my blood pump, and I read how the fire was consuming air around it. This stupid fire wasn’t going to take my delicious treat away. I felt the wind multiply inside me, like inhaling. The air around me started to grow cold and I could see my breath. As I read the fire, I found the threads of air being used.
The effort felt like tugging on wet spaghetti strands. It was hard to get to the base of each strand, so I just started clawing away the wind from all of them. As I clawed away the fire, it started un-raveling around me. I could feel my legs start to get numb when I felt a surge of air within. Somehow the air inside felt like it split off and formed something new. The splitting of energy made my leg go numb for a second. I moved my leg to get back the feeling and heard the crunching of snow beneath my feet. I did my best to ignore all the oddities as I clawed at the fire. Another sensation of splitting happened inside me, and I made one more push. I let out a final yell and sucked in the last of the air around the fire.
My legs hurt and my chest felt sizzling with the last of the fire’s hot air. I decided to look extra awesome in front of the couple and let that heat into the blade in my hands. I had never done this and wanted a legend to be born. I was also worried what would happen to my chest with all that hot air. As I swung the blade, I pulled the fire’s energy into the object. The sword burst into flames as I turned and swung. The sword made an odd screech instead of a whistle. I stood, breathing heavy, in front of the wide-eyed couple. My fingers started to burn as the heat of the metal reached my hand. I dropped the blade, darting my hand to my side. The sword fell into the snow near my feet and hissed. As I looked at the blade, I saw a new groove appear.
I didn’t want to explain what was going on. I didn’t fully know what was going on. I decided the best route would be to return to my camp, tell Thunder I was leaving, then go home to sort things out. The fewer questions, the better, since I didn’t have the answers. Plus, I had just done something awesome followed by dropping my sword clumsily. I sheathed my sword on my back and started walking back to my camp.
Whatever “awesome” I was feeling evaporated when I got to camp. I saw half of my camp site burnt up. I wished it had all been burnt, instead of only half. I had started the forest fire that almost killed us all. By not putting out my fire, it almost cost all our lives. I saw a figure appear from the woods. The figure was Thunder. I am not sure how I knew, but I just knew. I told the figure that I needed to get home in a hurry and to please follow me. Thunder Born appeared to agree with me as the figure kept following me. I had a lot of questions for Thunder Born, but wanted to have a much more controlled fire the next time we talked. Plus, the couple and police would soon be here asking who started the forest fire. I didn’t want to be around for that question.
Epilogue
Charles Mineford
Senior Technical Advisor
National Wildfire Coordinating Group
346 1st Ave SE
Harrisburg, WA 98646
Dear Mr. Mineford,
The following are our findings of the odd forest fire from last September. We know the fire started in a specific campsite reserved by Mr. Longview. Yet we found that Mr. Longview was at work before the fire started. Security cameras confirm Mr. Longview was at work when the fire started. We noticed several tent locations and assumed he had friends with him at the campsite. We’ve gone through Mr. Longview’s social profiles and identified several potential friends. Mr. Longview was hesitant to name any of his friends that were with him during that camping trip. We also interviewed store owners from the town near the campsite.
The main hurdle was that none of the stores have modern systems. We could not pull any receipts and attach them to credit card files. When we spoke to the local bank manager, who apparently controls much of the town’s finances, we were shown out. The bank manager appeared angry when we requested information about the forest fire. We are not sure he had anything to do with the fire and are still investigating him. None of the store clerks offered any useful information. Furthermore, no stores had security footage available. The grocery clerk admitted to getting a security camera to help with theft, but that was only after the day in question.
Under laws RCW 4A.28 and WAC 3255.2, we cannot pursue criminal charges against Mr. Longview. Those laws only allow legal action for costs associated with fire suppression. What makes this case so unique is that the fire was already stopped before our teams assembled. We are unsure of the fire suppression method. My recommendation is putting a watch on all future campsites booked by Mr. Longview and several of his friends. I’ve enclosed their names in a separate document. If they book any future campsites, it would be nice to send a warden out to verify proper fire operation.
Please set up an email alarm when these individuals reserve a campsite and have it go to me.
Thank you for your help!
Mr. Mackarther
Wildfire Investigator
Epilogue 2:
I stood in front of the fire in my backyard. Thunder was there in the smoke. We discovered that using the fire was the only way we could talk. Perhaps it was because he could pop the logs in unique ways or whistle through the logs. I had a lot of questions for him, the first being why I could now see the wind.
“I saw you drowning and used several pieces to push you towards the inlet” Thunder began, “The woman pulled you both toward the land. She then started trying to revive that other man.”
So she had made a choice on who should live and did not choose me. That made sense, as I was almost a stranger; even if I did drown trying to save her lover.
Thunder continued, “When I saw she wasn’t going to save you I got mad. The water stole your pieces of air. I know what it’s like to have your pieces stolen.”
The smoke flared a bit and curled into a column around Thunder Born. “So I gave you my pieces. They saved you. As you were coughing, you were also bleeding into the water.”
“I don’t understand, Thunder. What does the water have to do with this?” I asked, curious about why he brought that fact up.
“The water returned the piece to me as a bubble. For a brief moment, one piece was inside both you and me.” Thunder said. “What happened next, I have never seen.”
“You mean putting out the fire? The snow?” I asked, trying to get clarification.
“Not exactly,” said Thunder. He walked towards me and pointed at my chest. “One piece multiplied in both of us at the same time. Pieces normally only multiply in wind beings; it’s how we heal. Yet, that piece multiplied in a flesh being. That has never happened.”
“So, I used pieces to control the fire?” I asked.
“You used one piece to unravel the fire’s air and one piece to turn the flame to your sword. It looks like you still had one more piece after that.” Thunder Born answered.
We both stood there looking at each other for a few moments. It was as if I were looking into a zoo with caged animals just beyond my touch. A world just on the other side of the glass. Perhaps Thunder felt the same way about me.
“One more thing, speaking of flame,” Thunder said, breaking the silence. “Your sword.” Thunder pointed at where the sword was laying nearby.
“Swing your sword” commanded Thunder.
I did so, obliging Thunder. It made a weird vibrating noise as the air whooshed through. Where the sword had whooshed came a word made of air. Normal people would not be able to read the air script that my eyes could now see.
“I don’t understand what that word means, Thunder. I can’t read your air script.”
Thunder curled some wind at his top, pleased with himself. “It is your wind name. I wrote it when the blade was hot enough to change. It cost me a piece to do so but was well worth it.”
“My wind name? Like your name is Thunder Born?”
“Yes,” Thunder replies. “When you use this I will know who is calling me. You will no longer need to yell in the air to get my attention. The whistle and
script will do that.”
Staring at the blade, the value grew quickly. Perhaps I should get a better case and handle for the blade. I knew I would no longer use it to chop simple branches. After all, I could now use the blade to write air script. The blade, which I could turn hot by feeding pieces in, could be used as a pen to write air script. Using that script, I could summon a wind esper to my side.
I swung the blade again and looked at the script it wrote.
Curious on the word, I asked, “What is my wind name? What does it say, Thunder?”
“It says your wind name is Marshmallows.”
Meet the Author
James Livingood was born in Montana, raised with three brothers, and provided trouble for two parents. In his 20's he fell in love with the Pacific Northwest. He moved out to Seattle after college and started a life by providing IT Consulting. In 2014, he started the writing adventure.
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