Tasia - Prologue

Prologue:

1 – Fire

I saw the flames, but they didn’t burn. I was swarmed by the flames and in an instant the room was lit up, the dream was so vivid. I could feel the outside breeze from the open window and the frost coming in from the chimney, it was all so real. My bed caught light and in an instant I was up, the smoke infused with my eyes and the burning sensation made it hard to even think. The chaos was unimaginable, the seemingly infinite flickers of orange threw my vision off balance and the migraine started to kick in. I could feel the cold drip of blood on my lips and the stinging in my nose, it was all so real. I took a moment to revel in chaos, my imagination was so vivid and exact, the fire ripped away from my feet as it spread throughout the house; that’s when the screaming started. At that moment everything changed, my brain was switched on and I started to get my thoughts straight. The screaming was easily recognisable from all those times my sister and I had arguments, I had to see if she was alright, and the scream was more than I could bear. I made my way through the flames, dodging draws and tables as I felt them, and keeping close to the sides of the hallway to guide my journey. I was at the pink room, flames were encompassing the vicinity and I couldn’t see in but I could hear the insatiable screams of my sister. I ran through the doorway and made haste through the fire, I saw a figure on the bed, writhing in pain, I recognised the long hair immediately, but just for a second. In a puff of smoke all the hair was whipped from her head and she fell to the floor. I ran up to her and held her as tight as I could but she slipped away, her body was just gone. I fell to the floor in a fit of sadness and terror, waiting for this nightmare to end. As my knees touched the ground the structural integrity of the floor gave out to the flames and in an instant I was falling through the basement. My back hit the cement ground floor and my body was just about to give in, I was losing vision and became completely immobile. I fought against my body as it was trying so desperately to give in, I tried to scream but the words couldn’t form. In my final moments I saw a figure looking through the hole I had made in my sister's floor, my eyes gave in before I could make out a face but the words "help me" weakly came out of my mouth in desperation. Then it all went black.

2 - Hospital

I woke up in a hospital bed, god knows where. My parents were talking to the doctor about how fast I was going to recover and get out of bed. The doctor used a bunch of scientific words to basically say that they had fixed me all up, they are just waiting for me to wake up, and my physical recovery was off the charts. I made a slight noise signalling to my parents that I was awake, it was somewhere between a grunt and a moan but at this stage I was over all the formalities. They came rushing to my bed, heart warmed to see me; they called the doctor over, excited to tell him the good news. The doctor ran a few tests and organised a physical therapy routine for me to start immediately. The doctor left the room for a little while to give me some time with my parents, a little debrief on the situation. Immediately I asked what happened, how I got into the hospital and how long was I asleep for. The answers came as a shock, one after another, not one better than the last.

My parents had gone out for the night, called away by work as per usual. In that time a fire was started and it enthralled the entire house in a quick gush. I ran to my sister’s aide but was too late, being knocked out and injured in the process, as the flamed went up my other sister and brother were taken by the flames as well. In telling this tale my mother got teary and had to leave the room for a while, for some reason my dad could hardly even look at me, he hadn’t said a word since I woke up. When my mum came back into the room she explained that for some reason I had not been burned, she was saying it was a miracle but I could tell by my father’s face that he disagreed. My father, being a devout missionary (or rook as it is referred to) for the religion of Ashe, had firsthand experience with many miracles in his time and my case was obviously not one. My parents are strong people but even then I would have thought this instant hit of news that my siblings were dead would have been more macabre, distraught as they were they were not distraught enough. The whole conversation with my parents consisted of my mother saying how sorry she was to me, I couldn’t understand it until she mentioned how long I had been out. Six months had passed since the fire, I had been asleep for six months.

3 – Recovery

Time went on from there, the ministry of Ashe moved us away from my childhood home, at least what was left of it. I didn’t get to say goodbye to any friends or anything, I just left, I woke up and suddenly I had a new life. Life moved on for my parents, they prayed for my siblings all the time, wherever they were my parents prayed for their safety in the world beyond. Life didn’t move on for me though, it slowly declined. Fights with my parents got more frequent, especially with my dad, nothing had been the same with him since I woke up, and he was so much more sincere than he used to be. No one could explain why I survived that night and it seemed like no one wanted to talk about it, they just let me be different without even telling me why. In my new school I was an outsider, shortly after my arrival my story was told throughout the school, I was known as the weird kid who watched all his siblings die and didn’t do anything to help it, nothing to stop it. I could never understand these kids, they were such assholes sometimes, they were childish and whiney, I didn’t give a shit about them or their problems. The school was located on the mission my dad worked for, everyone in the school grew up on this mission and newcomers were not common. Everyone had grown up in a strict Ashe family, they were all raised the same way and they were almost like robots; they were all the same, in the end they were all whiney cunts and that’s the way they stayed. I was raised normally, like a normal human being, we used to attend the Ashe service once a week and be done with it, but then it all changed and I was supposed to be one of these kids, these robots. I didn’t like them very much and they didn’t like me, I was weird and not at all like them, for two years had I got by; but not without struggle.

The death of my siblings plagued me like a ghost. The depression started and I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t live the life. I was never the same, I got distant and that’s the way I liked it. The stories at school got worse as time went on, murmurings of me being a devil child filled the school, along with the idea that my dad had, that it was not a miracle I survived. My parents were not a whole lot of help putting the story together, they just kind of lived life. My mother was still convinced that I was some sort of miracle child where I knew my father thought something else. I got into fights with my dad a lot over the topic of my miraculous recovery but I got the same blank stare every time, followed by being sent to my room. After my first year I had had enough of all the shit I was getting at school, I hadn’t done anything wrong, I survived a fire and my siblings, the people I loved most in the world died, I didn’t do anything wrong, why the fuck can’t people just feel sorry for me? I’d rather pity for something I survived than hate for just made up shit. When the time came I had just had enough, I wanted to hit someone, I had to, they were making my life miserable and it was all I could think of doing. I was never a violent person, I had never been in a fight before but I was just sick of it all, it needed to end and somehow I knew for me at least that this would atone for a fair bit of the crap I was given over the years.

4 – Fight

I didn’t know exactly what my plan was for the day when I went in, all I knew was that the first person to give me any hassle was going to get it, my dad was a respected member of the Ashe community so I had held back for this long but now I was just sick of it. It was a very short while before I got a nice little pep talk about how everyone loses people and that I just have to deal with it, its life and it was my fault they are all gone so I better stop the act. That was it. Rage flared from my eyes and burst out of me like aura. Everyone was looking at the spectacle to be, all wondering on how I was going to react to such allegations. Before a muscle could even more in my body I felt a pulse leave my body, hurdling into the dickhead in front of me, sending him flying backwards. Fear was my first emotion, I had no idea what had just gone down but I know it probably wasn’t very good. I looked around to see the most disgusting look of hatred from all those around me, never in my entire life had I felt so alone. People were whispering and before I could even get a meeting with any teacher’s I was off, I called my mum and asked her to come pick me up. Making my parents think I was sick was more or less a common occurrence and they just got used to it so she didn’t initially ask too many questions; but the community there was close.

Word of what happened that day spread like wildfire, everyone was talking about it. Whenever I went out into the community I was looked at with loathing, I was called evil, a heretic. Magic and all powers were viewed as being very real in the religion of Ashe, throughout most religions actually, but they were never seen as good. One thing that almost any religion could agree on that magic and all similar stuff was just pure evil, no question about it. I had no idea what had happened that day but I felt something leave me, and it wasn’t the first time. As my mother took me home that day I came down with a searing nosebleed, a similar feeling to the one I had the night of the fire.

When I got back my parents had had enough. I had become more trouble than I was worth and as much as they loved me, they needed to send me away, for my good and for theirs. My parents knew this atmosphere wasn’t working out for me but my father really could leave just yet, he didn’t want to either. They decided upon a boarding school located in the cold countryside of Tasia, far away from any memories I had once possessed. The school did not come as a great amazement to me as it was an Ashe private school, but I knew nothing could be as bad as where I lived at that time so I decided to just go along with it.