By morning, the whole District 5 was nothing but ruins. The grey ash covered everything and the air was thick with the smell of sulfur. The fire had consumed everything in its path, no single tree, no homes, even the parish church that once stood at the district heart. There were no voices, no sign of life, only a wasteland filled with ash.
Thin smoke rose from some areas, a reminder of the destruction. The fire had burnt only within the city. Beyond the North gate, where the survivors had gathered, some wept, others sang mournful hymns, their voices trembled with sorrow, few sat in silence, lost in their thoughts. The grief the people showed took many forms, everybody had lost something, some their homes, others children. Some were left without parents, without spouses, without purpose. Heartbreak had become a living thing among them.
What have we done to deserve this o Lord?The Bishop let the question echo in his mind as he moved around the people offering comfort, he had narrowly escaped the fire last night.
Dressed in a simple black priesthood coat and a wooden crucifix hanging from his hand, he paused to offer words of comfort, even as his own heart ached.
Bishop Nicolas Paul, the bishop of the parish church, also the oldest member of the council, a leader who had long represented District 5. Some once said he was meant to be the Archbishop, but the church politics had seen another man, Salas took the position instead. But none of that mattered now.
Message had arrived with word of a council meeting. But that was not his concern, he had no time for church politics. His concern was to see his people,the remaining survivors transported to safe–
"Father please pray for my husband and children, please ..." A woman cried as she rushed to his feets
" Please pray for their souls, pray for them"
" They are with the Lord now"
Bishop Nicolas said to the woman with sad eyes. But he recognized the woman, she was one of the committed members of the parish. Why do bad things happen to good people? That thought struck his mind, but the fire incident happened to everybody in District 5 he thought to himself again. The old man bent to comfort the woman at his feet.
" Father your carriage is ready", the cathedral guard that had been with him all day whispered behind him.
"Everybody get to the wagons". A cathedral guard voice ran through the depressed crowd.
_________
The caravan moved along the dusty road, about thirty five- two wheeled open wagons for the survivors and their remaining possessions. At the center a carriage for Bishop Nicolas.
Three hundred and five souls, that was all that remained. Before the fire, District 5 had slightly about five thousand residents which made it the second largest district in Mediva. Now, more than ninety percent of its population are gone, consumed by the mysterious fire that left nothing but ash.
For an hour, the survivors had travelled West, leaving behind their hometown.The sight of District 1 finally emerged before them. District 1, the largest and most populated of Mediva's five districts, up on a hill, stood with its beauty and glory, a symbol of hope. The people called it the Holy land, some called it the city of God.
Every year, all of Mediva would gather up together in District 1 at the end of the twelfth moon to celebrate their victory in the Hundred years of war that happened long ago — the Celebration of Liberation. People from all the districts come together and celebrate and honor the sacrifices of those who fought in the war, for two days and on the third day, the Supreme leader,the Pope, would stand before the people and deliver his divine message.
This year's Celebration of Liberation will not be the same,not for those who witnessed their family, friends and possessions consumed by fire, the picture of that incident will live forever in their mind, at this point most of the survivors might die of depression, the thought ran deep in Edward's mind as the caravan moved towards District 1.
Edward Jonathan, a young, strong boy barely thirteen years old. But his mind was far from his age. His mind was lost in the incident that happened last night —
EARLIER BEFORE THE FIRE INCIDENT,
"Be careful out there my young hunter."
That was his mother, Abigail's way of saying goodbye, before he left out to hunt. It became her final goodbye to Edward.
Thirty percent of District 5 was covered with tall trees, the people called it the wild. Edward spent more time there than anywhere else, earning him the nickname child of the wild, even at his age, he was skilled and good at hunting wild games.
Last night before the fire incident, he caught a wild boar, the biggest game since he started hunting in the wild, but that was not easy, the struggle with the wild boar had cost him, leaving him with a cracked rib, something to remember. But none of that mattered, his heart had swelled with pride, he had to run home to show his mother and his younger brother his biggest achievement. The thought of his father struck him, he wished his father were there to see it.
Then, everything changed —
All of a sudden, the evening turned darker with smoke, "what is that roaring sound?", a terrible feeling caught him, without wasting a second, he ran.
As he got closer, the scent of burning wood filled his lungs, the sound of people screaming, "this is not good..", he ran with relentless speed. Immediately he made it out, the wild boar on his shoulder fell off, his eyes widened in terror. The image he saw before him, was terrifying.
This is hell!
The town was covered with smoke, dust and fire, his eyes widened the more. What the devil is that?.
The fire moved like a living creature, devouring everything in its path. And the fire… the fire was coming from the direction of his house. His heart almost stopped beating at that moment,
" Klah, mother… nooo" the words barely came out from his mouth.
He stood there shocked, confused and terrified, tears began to fall from his eyes, what kind of fire was that?, and why was it coming from the direction of his house?. He needs to clear those questions off his head. His ribs began to hurt, he must have outdone himself, he thought. But this is not the time to think, he ran, tearing through the chaos, ignoring the pain in his ribs. People ran past him, fleeing the devastation, but he ran toward it.
There is no way he would lose his mother and brother, he ran relentlessly as tears dropped from his eyes like a waterfall.
Somehow Edward managed to reach the area where his house was located, the situation there was different. The smoke around was thick and suffocating, the fire had swallowed all the buildings, the glow of the blaze cast shadows on the ground. Sparks flew like fireflies in the night, carried by the wind.
He stumbled to stop, breathing heavily. "No…no…no".
The heat was unbearable, there was no living soul, all were turned to ash, there was no sound except the loud roaring of the fire. He was having a hard time breathing and at that point, it was hard to pinpoint his house. He turned around and saw a figure. A small motionless figure kneeling before a burning house, no that is not a shadow, wait…, the thoughts came to him, he recognized that place, how can he forget?, that was his house.
"Klah!!" he screamed as he ran towards the figure.
One house behind him blew up, the force of the explosion sent him flying. He landed with his face, instantly sharp pain ran through his back, the heat almost burnt him, he stood up and again another pain, this time it was unbearable,his ribs, he groaned so hard. That was too much pain for someone his age.
He turned back and saw the path he took, it was covered with flames, there was no way back. He had to get to his brother now. He neglected the pains and ran straight to his brother.
As he got closer to the figure, the glowing embers from the house the boy was kneeling in front of began to reveal his face, no mistake, that was klah, Edward's younger brother.
"Klah!, Kl…" Edward rushed and knelt before the boy.
" Hey… are you okay?"
Edward asked, shaking him. But Klah didn't answer, his eyes were locked on the house.
" Hey look at me… where is mom?, hey where is she?". He noticed something.
Why was Klah looking inside the house?, the thought came to Edward. Slowly he turned, he froze, the emotion on his face was either fear or confusing. A woman figure was burning alongside the house, the fire engulfed her completely, that was his mother, Abigail.
The tears from his eyes dried pretty fast, the heat had turned from unbearable to impossible to stay in, he turned to the path he took, there was nothing but flames, the fire was closing in on them very fast. He had to move, he grabbed Klah, lifting him onto his back.
For the last time again he turned and looked at his burning mother but this time the fire had eaten her up almost completely, he sprinted.
He knew since in the wild that he had outdone himself, but that doesn't matter. Somehow he believed he was going to make it out, he kept running and jumping obstacles.
But fate wasn't finished with them yet.
The fire was far behind him now, so he thought, the ground began to break, an earthquake?, no that was something different… Suddenly, without warning, the fire erupted from the ground. The force of the eruption created a massive release of energy, so violent that it sent buildings crumbling and bodies flying.
The impact struck them both. Klah landed on a haystack gathered in a farm. Edward wasn't so lucky, he hit the ground hard, the pain this time sent a shock to his brain, exploding through every nerve in his body. The pain was too much for his body to bear, he began to lose consciousness.
He struggled hard to reach Klah who lay lifeless with blood on his face. He tried to move but his body refused to obey, his vision blurred. He tried and raised his hand and whispered
" I'm sorry"
Then finally he passed out.
That was all he remembered about last night, next he woke up outside the North gate, his injured body was completely healed. Daemirans must have saved him… Klah, where is Klah?. He began to panic but as he turned to his left, Klah laid on the ground quietly, his eyes wide open looking at the morning sun.
Klah had a tough look, a scar, deep healed wound that stretches diagonally across his left cheek, starting above his eyebrow and running down his jawline. A mark of past struggle permanently on his face, it tells a story of survival, a physical reminder.