The day was coming to a close and the sky had turned red. Miles walked along Hungbridge, a busy street in Dung-ho, the poorest region of the mostly wealthy Golden June City. The air smelt of flour and mint as he passed the bakery and then sweet perfumes as he passed an old lady that made and sold homemade scents from a wooden stool. Hungbridge was by far the nicest smelling of the streets in Dung-ho.
Miles stopped in front of the Alchemists shop. he remembered as a child peering through the windows, as the shop owner a renowned alchemist known as Mac tooth the magician would create magnificent potions and magical science. On a rare occasion Mac Tooth would set up a stool outside his shop to show off his latest invention. The crowd would populate the entirety of Hungbridge and they would cheer in excitement at the wonders he would present. The last time that happened was during the war when miles were a boy of six.
Miles walked on until he reached the church three doors down. The church had no door, just a cloth sheet covering its door frame. Inside was an old man sitting on the red bench. The different colored benches represented the different gods. They were five colors and two benches for each color. The red bench was for the oldest of the gods, Asilo the god of birth. He was told to be a huge man, greedy and in love with his own reflection. Asilo was able to birth babe’s as he was with both genitals. He was fabled to be the first man and the father of all man of every color and land. Miles believed in all gods, but his favorite was the laughing women Phasous, the lady of a thousand smiles. She would laugh in dark times including war and believed to be the one to bring hope and joy in every child’s heart. She was told to be exceptionally beautiful and the only being that Asilo loved more than himself.
Miles walk through the chapel, passing several other benches of the three other gods and another for believers of foreign gods such as Lacuis the ever young child. At the alter there is a eight foot tall stone statue of Asilo holding a new born in his large muscular arms. Miles knelled down before it next to an old couple, both man and wife crying desperately bowing up and down loudly shouting In the language of the gods “Whilar isomen savrus idle dues” in the common tongue it translates to “Save all of our sons true god.” Miles had noticed the couple The last time he was here he watched them before as he is now. Miles turned to the floor and closed his eyes. He prayed in his mind for hope to the laughing women. he did this every week. He had prayed every week for six years ever since his brother and Father had been sent to fight in the war. His father often told stories of his mother praying at the church, for her husband’s safety and happiness of her sons. She would come to church every day, pray to a different god every day and then to them all on Saturday and again on Sunday. She would take the wooden prick and prick her finger for a single drop of blood to stain her finger, then drop the blood into the golden bowl of water by the feet of Asilo to send her prays away to the gods. Whenever Miles did it he thought of the mother he had never known and if she was watching him now follow in her footsteps.
He prayed for the things he usually would, his family continued health, His father and brother and May His best friend . The peace of the land to keep and the crops to grow. The things he thought he should pray for and finally with some hesitation he prayed for his and May’s luck in the drawing. The drawing is an annual celebration for the children of the city to become adults. Their names would be drawn and selected for a profession to help the land, they are paired with this profession for the entirety of their life, and if they chose against it they are banished from the city and subdued to the harsh land outside the Golden walls. The people who support The Drawing say it makes everyone’s life meaningful and happy as they serve their people. Miles always thought of it in another way, as if he should have a choice, a say in what his life shall become and who he would be. He prayed that he and May would not be soldiers. Puppets of war for the king to play with. He hated the king, a man of anger and greed, Miles always though he had everything a person could want, a loving wife, food on the table. The king always wanted more, a new empire to rule, more servants and whores to warm his bed. Miles hated his most of all for starting the war, one that started eleven years before Miles was born and ended thirteen years into his life.
He vividly remembered the time of war and tried to forget most of the memories of it. Whenever he though back over four years ago he remembers the sound of bombs smashing into brick walls. The echo of gunshots around him. The day he remembered the most invasion of Golden June City, he and May where with seven other children sheltered in old church of Bastion, the lover of life and learning. Miles remembered trembling as The smell of gunpowder, fire and death lied thick in the night air they heard greats screams of the enemy. The brotherhood of blood as the cities people called them. A hundred men marching by screaming chants in a language he had no understanding of. The fragmented memories of war often filled his head day and night and he wanted nothing more than to be done with them.
He pricked his finger and watched his blood drop dye the water, then walked out on streets of Hungbridge. He was watching the evening sky when he fell as someone crashed into him. He stumbled and fell to the ground. The man apologized and helped Miles get to his feet; he had a stubbly grey beard and a dark grey receding hairline. His eyes were bloodshot as he seemed to inspect Miles. “Sorry Young man I have seemed to trip us both up”. Miles smiled and replied “ Its fine Sir. I’m fine.” Miles noticed that the man wore a long turquoise jacket draped over his shoulders, a single blood stain dripping from his sleeve. He then noticed the man’s thin fingers the tips stained red and black. Some of the decorative rings he wore of each finger the stones and gems inside them a little shattered. “Interested in religion” the man noted Miles standing in front of the church. “Yes, I give my respect” Miles responded. The man smiled and then gestured to the alchemist shop, “If you ever want to learn a little of science, you’re always welcome”. Miles stared at the shop and then looked at the man “are you Mac Tooth?” The man smiled, nodded and stepped ford to whisper into Miles’s ear “It wasn’t god s that saved your family boy, it was me. Don’t thank me though, I did this city and its people a great disservice that day”. Miles stared at Mac Tooth as he quickly stepped into his shops closing the door behind him but not before giving Miles a most wicked smile. Miles watched the shop as the lights went off and windows closed thinking of what he could mean. He thought of anything he’d known about the once famous Mac Tooth.
He was most famous for inventing an odorless and tasteless poison that resembled water. It is called Arnith, very rare now but years ago the kings men swapped the invading forces water supply with it, and won the war almost from that single act, this was common knowledge and had made Mac Tooth a hero to the people, one that had seemed to disappear as soon as the drums of war did. Miles turned and walked away, he noticed a group of guardsmen running towards the shop. He watched them as they kicked in the door of the Alchemist lab, the wooden door exploded into splinters, and shouts and crashes where heard from inside. Then a laugh “About time you fools.! I’ve been expecting you for years, now are you going to finish the job you gutless sheep or do I have to?” Miles ran as fast as he could. His footsteps making echoes as he stomped down on the wet stone. He stopped to catch his breath. The sound of an explosion erupted behind him and he turned to see a stream of smoke pouring up over the rooftops from the direction of the shop. The rumble of an investigative crowd flooded into the street. Miles watched the smoke rise into the sky for a moment before noticing that Mac Tooth stood meters away, he bowed to Miles with a smirk. A spark flied from the mans hand and then a blue flame exploded from him, flame erupted from his skin and he evaporated into the air . Miles ran towards where he disappeared, the only evidence that he was ever there a small pile of ash laid onto a burnt circle in the grass. Miles touched the ground, felt the heat of the scorched earth. Miles then raced back to the alchemy shop he didn’t stop, he ran faster this time into the unknown. Miles turned back into Hungbridge to a sea of people, some ran past him from the flames burning the shop . Others just seemed to watch the blaze. Miles pushed past people. Mac’s shop roof had collapsed in all the windows had been blown out. Splinters and bricks covered the street. A lions guardsman ran out of the house, his yellow coat burnt black , a wave of flame swept over his face, burning the skin. Two guards pushed the watching crowd back. The flaming guardsmen screamed and rolled in the mud on the street, he desperately swatted at the flame but it refused to sunder, the bright blue flame spread over the mans body turning his skin to ash. The man screaming stopped only when he died on the floor, the flames sundered finally and a pair of guards lifted the corpse, half his skin had been burnt off and his bones were bare to the sun. Five more guardsmen approached, they marched quickly up to the terrified crowd. “Get back, all of you!” One of them announced. Miles watched the collapsing shop, a flock of guardsman are still inside searching the shop. A guardsmen pushed Miles back, he stumbled back into the mud. Miles pushed past the crowd and walked out of Hungbridge, and up the golden brick hill. Miles jogged home as he he dodged past a flock of guards charging through the street. The guards ran quickly, pushing the civilians out the way, they almost seemed scared. Miles sprinted home, he locked the splintering wooden door as he ran into his house. Lent against the cold molding door. Miles Walked up to his tiny cupboard size room, his mind ablaze with the thoughts of what he just saw. Miles stood up, ran to his collection of books in the corner of the room. He tore through the pile, throwing thick, fat books over his shoulder. He came to a book in brown and red leather, some of the leather on the corner has ripped and begun to lose its color. On the cover is ’Alchemists: A historical collection’. Miles flicked through the pages of the thick book, Until he came to the chapter entitled ’heat and flame’. There are pictures of multi colored flames, one green, one purple, another white and finally a blue ball of flame. Miles read the paragraph under the picture ’Emberow. Invented in the south-lands at the time of the 3rd Dynasty. Used for torture and intense burning, the enduring flame.’
Miles laid his head to his pillow. Started recalling the strange day. He thought of what Mac Tooth had said to him. “ I did a great disservice to this City and its people”. He thought of him Vanishing into flame, into death.
Miles laid for hours, trying to sleep his head unwilling to stop racing. Finally he jumped from his bed fastened his faded old leather boots to his feet, and ran for Hungbridge once again. The sky had turned black and bitterly cold, he ran the corner to see three guards standing outside the blown out shop, smoking cigarettes and laughing. Miles began walking down the street, keeping his head down and keeping out of sight. He turned into an alley and started running. He ran to the back of the house. Mac’s house had a long garden. Miles peered through the metal gate. The Garden’s overgrown, rotting thickets of weed climbed up the tall house. At the center of the garden is a life size bronze statue of Mac Tooth himself, it stood on a marble pedestal, around it in every direction laid pillows, spanning in each direction. Miles slipped his fingers into the gate and hoisted himself over it. As he landed he smashed his foot against a plant pot, shattering it. Miles cried out in pain, blood spilled from his foot, as he started limping through the garden. The back door of the house had been half blown off. Miles pushed the door, it fell to the floor and shattered to splinters. Bricks and wood spilled along the floor. He walked inside the house, stepping over broken beakers, burnt pages of books and cindered wood. He walked into the main room of the shop where the remains of the stock of the shop, book, beakers of potions and strange scientific ornaments Miles didn’t understand spilled on to the floor, most of burnt by the flames that erupted several hours earlier in the room On the floor was a corpse, his skin had been burnt off, showing chunks of his skull, Some of his remaining skin bubbled and stuck to the wall like glue. Miles turned away, closed his eyes and counted for several seconds, breathing in and out for a moment, trying not to throw up. He opened his eyes and kept walking through into an open room. Displayed on the wall is writing in foreign language written in blue chalk. Next to it a painting of headless people walking towards the canvas, behind them fireballs and smoke pollute the sky. Miles crouched down touched his bleeding wound, and looked at the blood on his fingertips. He looked on the desktops and saw a spool of rope, Miles ripped a piece of his shirt sleeve and wrapped it around his leg. He tied a piece of rope tightly around the piece of shirt, Covering the wound. Miles walked closely up to the chalk and smelt the powder. He ran his fingers over it as he did, the brittle brick cut his finger, a line of blood followed the line of the letter. His blood caught a light suddenly and miles stepped away in surprise and some fear. The entire powder writing caught alight quickly and In seconds it completely burnt away. Smoke arises into the air. The guards footsteps could be heard running towards the house. Miles started running out of the house, towards the back door when his skin started to set alight, The flames arose on him and turned blue. Miles Looked down at his hands waves of fire covered his entire body, but he didn’t feel any pain. Miles disappeared into a ball of searing blue flame, sending a gulf of flame across the room. His body fell onto a grey stone floor with a thud. Sewer water ran to the right of him, to the left of him is a wooden table, atop it a long hooded cloak, a white shirt and a bottle of booze, a sack of coins and a small bottle of green liquid. Miles stood up and looked around at his surroundings, unsure of where he is. He listened to the air for a while whilst carefully examining the sewer tunnel he found himself in. Wet stone pavement in both directions and brown murky water ran to the left of him. He wondered where he has transported too and how. The memory of the flames passing over his body flashed through his head and then he remembered the same colored flames passing over Mac Tooth before he disappeared.
"Hello...Mr Tooth." He sheepishly called out to the sewers. No answer came and he sighed a little disappointed. He turned his attention back to the table and counted the coins and placed the purse in his pocket. He threw the Cloak over him and looked to the bottle again before placing it in his pocket with the coin purse. He walked up the concrete hill, his feet slipped as he tried to rise the murky stone ground. The smell of urine filled his nostrils became less pungent as he arose from the sewers. As he strode he constantly peered over his shoulder. As he climbed higher, the concrete tunnel opened to the night sky. The sewage water fell into a river and the stone disbursed opening to the outside world. Miles walked out of the stone sewer to stand in a green field, to see that the huge sprawling Golden June City stands to the left of him. He looked in all direction with some excitement as this was the first time he had set foot out of the city in several years. The walls to the city stretched upwards for a hundred meters, atop the walls guard Miles could see the outlines of Lion guards patrolling. Miles threw up the hood of his cloak and walked towards the city.
He walked through the large gold gate of the city and into Lower Wadell and began to ascend the hill. He sniffed the air as the smell of smoke began to surround him as he climbed higher. He looked up to see smoke pouring from the building, the same kind of smoke that emerged from Mac Tooth’s shop. Miles ran into a sprint realizing the origin of the smoke. Flames spread over his home and he boldly raced into it, he glanced around the kitchen of the house, before running past flaming furniture, holding his breath to stop the smoke filling his lungs. Miles ran into a bedroom where his brother slumped unconscious against his wheelchair, around his the bed sheets and wooden chairs are burning. Miles grabbed his brother by the shoulder and struggled to lift him up.
The bloody stumps were his brothers legs used to be drips and are on fire a little. Miles ran as fast as he could out carrying his brother through the heavy smoke. He drops to the floor as he steps a couple feet from the house, dropping his unconscious brother to the floor with him. He finally breathed and started a coughing fit. A crowd had formed around the house and watched the two brothers. Several strangers walk ford and pick up Miles’s brother and a stranger starts patting hard on Miles back trying to stop him coughing his lungs out. Miles eyes run wet as he tried to regain his breath. At the edge of the crowd he saw a flutter of a blue cape and then Mac Tooth’s and him smirking to him once again for a split second before he faded into the smoke.