Rise Again

For a while, I believed I was forgotten. That my skill and my hammer and my forge were all lost, somewhere beyond myths and legends. Dark in the minds of man. For a while, I believed that they’d stopped telling the tale. Stopped speaking of my works. For a while, I thought I’d never have another visitor.

And then, he showed up.

Him.

And when he walked into my forge, he knew where he was going. What he was doing. I realized then that it wasn’t a matter of being forgotten, but, rather, a matter of being feared.

Why else would you memorize a land not of your own?

For the sake of keeping your head, yes?

As he approached my forge, his eyes shifted around the room. Cataloguing everything in sight. Ready for something to pounce, to jump at him. To make an attempt on his life.

He walked into my forge—my home—fearful.

Terrified.

Determined, and yet:

Very much afraid.

…good.

At least they’ve got that much right.

My works are nothing to scoff at. My hands building only the finest of beasts. My forge brutal, a fire that shows no mercy.

Mercy makes for weak metal, anyway.

For making creatures that are not-quite-so-mythical beasts.

There is no room for a cool fire.

Not in my forge.

He walked in, afraid, and yet…

He knew exactly what he wanted.

Though I don’t think he realized what kind of hell I’d have to make first, in order for him to get it.

Ha.

Foolish mortals. Continue reading “Rise Again”

From Tartarus, With Love

A dark tide. Pooling and rushing forward, churning things up from the depths.

The mouth of Tartarus.

Not a pit. A pool.

They say once you get lost in it, you don’t come back out.

That’s what they say.

It’s why it was the perfect place for me. Chained and bound, tossed in a sack, thrown with an anchor around my ankle into the inky depths.

Tartarus awaited me then. Eager to swallow me up. Add another to its collection.

And they were more than eager to hand me over. To please the dark depths.

They say that when you get thrown into Tartarus, you don’t make it back out.

That’s what they say.

But they don’t really know much.

Do they? Continue reading “From Tartarus, With Love”

Lion Rising

Rise.

I’ll never forget the last words of that man. The one who stood above the rest. Who called himself a man, while others claimed him a hero. He was the type of man that would stoop to tie your shoe for you, even if you were older than five. The type of guy who didn’t mind picking trash out of parking lots, even if no one asked. He was the type of guy who listened before he spoke, thought before he acted, and only raised his voice to shout encouragement.

Rise.

It was only one word.

In the end though, that’s all I needed to him from him.  Continue reading “Lion Rising”

Lessons from a Pyro

The thing about fire starters?

Most of them are cowards.

They start a fire and run. Terrified of being victim to their own flame. To the fire that they started. They don’t care who gets burned in the process, as long as they’re not included.

Cowards.

Hypocrites.

Children.

That’s what they are.

But someone who starts a fire to walk through the flames?

A true visionary.

A Phoenix.

That’s what they’d be called.

In my life, I’ve seen a lot of cowards. A lot of fire starters. A lot of runners.

And she sure as hell wasn’t one of them. Continue reading “Lessons from a Pyro”