World Fire

Fahrla and Locke

'Locke, can we go to the beach today? The wind is so pleasant, and the sun is warm, but not hot. It would be a waste not to go,' Fahrla said.

'Sure, let's go.' He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet. Fahrla was only a year younger than he was, but her figure was small and frail, the result of a girl that could never have a proper and regular diet. This poor health left her always in the tender care of Locke, who had to watch over her every step.

Locke himself was only fourteen but had grown strong enough to carry her. Fahrla climbed onto his back and held onto his shoulders.

'Careful now,' he said, gently stepping down to the lower platforms and onto the streets of the slums.

As they walked down the street, he waved to the familiars of the Arindel slums. There was Old Broom, the name everyone gave to the old man who always swept at the sandy street ways. People said that he never quite recovered from the shock of losing his wife, and now devoted his life to sweeping the sand from an alley made of sand. People made fun of him, but they all knew that he meant nothing but good intentions.

Then there were the Three Rags. An endearing name given to a pair of triplets two years younger than Locke. There was Mit, Kit and Pit, and they spent their days running up and down the slums, messing around and having fun. They waved back to Locke and Fahrla. They all got along well, but Locke could not help but feel a pang of jealousy as he thought of the mother and father that loved them.

'Locke,' Fahrla said, squinting at the Three Rags, trying to make out the foggy vision as they played. 'You'll be with me always, won't you?'

'Of course,' Locke said, reaching up and scratching her hair. 'I'm your brother, I'll always be there for you.'

To many of the people of the slums, the two of them were a beautiful constant of the alleyway. Well, that was with everyone in the slums. No matter who you are, or how poor or dismal you were, the people of the slums welcomed you with warm hearts, and treated you like anyone else. But only a limited amount of kindness could be stretched to anyone. In terms of food, you had to rely on your own devices.

Locke and Fahrla's nickname was The Red Eagles, referring to their fire red hair. Fahrla, weak and frail, had bushy red hair that fell down to her bony hips. Locke cut a knife through his hair whenever it fell to his neck. They both once shared aquamarine eyes until Fahrla developed her cataracts.

'Where're you two lads off to today.' A middle-aged man smoked at his pipe, running his bony fingers together as he talked. A column of smoke rose from his pope, giving his face a mysterious and wizened look. A stack of cards lay face down on the sand in front of him.

'We're off the beach, Big Eye.' Fahrla stretched out her hand to Big Eye. Big Eye took her hand in his own and gave it a small shake.

'The beach? Brilliant day, ay? How about an old check of the luck?' He tapped his foot on the deck of cards.

Locke looked to Fahrla. 'We had better not. You know how I feel about this,' Locke said.

Big eye shrugged. 'Ahh, what's the matter with a bit of fun? They're just cards.'

'Then why do you want me to turn one over?'

'For laughs, for fun, to pass some time. Come on.' He reached over, picked the cards up and shuffled them. 'Come on, have a go.'

Locke shrugged, picked out a card and did not reveal it.

'And you, Fahrla.' He waved the deck in front of her. She took a card and turned it over, struggling to see the details printed on it.

'It's all fuzzy. I think it's a sheep, or a cloud.' She turned it to show Big Eye.

'That's the wanderer, Fahrla. The lonely wanderer.'

'Lonely! But I don't want to be alone. I want to be with Locke!'

Big Eye shrugged. 'They're just cards, for fun. Don't think about it too much.' He took the wanderer card back into his hand and he slipped it into the deck. 'What about you, Locke.'

Locke flipped the card to Big Eye. It was an eagle.

'Ahh, it fits your nickname.'

'What's special about this one?'

'Eagles are gallant and noble, yet they always fly onward on their own secret quest. Perhaps you have quite the road ahead of you. Stay vigilant, Locke.'

Locke handed the card back to Big Eye. 'Thanks. We'll get going now. I wish you well.'

'Likewise, son and daughter of Crys and Jem. May they be doing well wherever they are.'

Locke waved an arm behind him as they continued down the alleyway towards the beach. The ground sloped downwards on the way, creating a path littered with sharp rocks and stones. Locke had walked this path for years and the calluses on his feet were a shield against the sharp edges.

They reached the beach, where the waves clapped against the sand, and Locke set Fahrla down. Thick clouds edged in from the horizon to the west, making their way eastward. The sun sparked down from the zenith of the sky, marking midday.

The two of them sat in the sand, resting their feet where the waves edged up, and collected shells for a competition. Fahrla would run her hand softly against the surface of the sand, feeling for any bump, and pull out shells from underneath a coat of sand while Locke would rely on his eyes. Despite what should have been a clear advantage for Locke, they always found themselves dead even by the end.

'I wish mum was back,' Fahrla said, resting her head on Locke's shoulder, tapping her finger against the surfaces of the shells that they had collected.

'Me too.'

'I want dad back, too. I wonder where he went.'

Locke shrugged. That was a mystery to all of them. Perhaps mum knew, but mum was dead, and they couldn't ask her for any direction. One day, dad was there, caring for them and treating them like anyone else. The next day, he was gone, no trace of him remaining.

Locke sighed. 'I think it's about time we try and leave here. Search for a new home.'

'What? A new home? But what of everyone in the slums? They are always so nice to us.'

'As the days go by, it's only going to get harder to live. Maybe there is a place out there that we can live comfortably, where I don't need to steal, where you can always have the proper care that you need. There must be a place like that somewhere, and I want to always be there with you.'

Fahrla was silent for a moment, then, 'Locke, have you ever heard of the fairy-tale of the World Fire?'

Locke shook his head.

'I forgot where I heard it. Maybe it came to me in a dream. My memory of it is quite foggy. There was a woman of fire, her name was Yee-Na-Pah. She was a devil that burned with fire, and she gave birth to five children. There was Elandra, Misandra, Kerandra, Quorandra and Andra. These children hide in ancient relics, all marked by an insignia of a flame that surrounds a tear drop.'

'Why are you telling me this now, Farhla?'

Farhla shrugged. 'I just wanted to talk to you more, because it's getting dark. I feel an odd chill, Locke.'

'What? It's only midday.'

The clouds that had started in the west had stretched across the sky, and before they realised, dark shadows stretched across the land, blocking out the sun.

'Fahrla, climb up, we should head back home.'

'Wait … do you notice that?' She held out her hand. Locke gasped. It was rain. Rain had not poured down in Arindel for years.

'Come on, let's go.' Locke pulled Fahrla to her feet and she climbed up his back and locked her legs over his shoulders.

Crash. A spear of lightning struck down over the city of Arindel, ripping the sky in two. Wind gushed from where it struck, sending waves of energy that pushed the two of them back. Shouts and screams rent the air from the city and the waves of the sea ebbed and flowed with newfound ferocity.

The rain increased in intensity, thick drops splattering down onto their foreheads as they stared at the events that were happening in front of them.

It had all happened so quickly. One moment there was peace, and now it was all slipping away. Lightning columns continued to strike down at the city.

'We need to get out of here,' Locke muttered.

'We can't. We can't ditch everyone else,' Fahrla cried. 'Big Eye, Old Broom, Three Rags, Miss Plum, Mr Palm. We can't let them die – we need to help however we can.'

'What? We can't. I don't want to risk your life.'

'They would try and save us if the positions were reversed.' Fahrla shook his shoulders, biting back tears as she spoke.

Locke grimaced. 'Alright. Let's go. Hold onto my back as tight as you can.'