The Unkindness of Fire

Prologue

"Children, language, lands; almost everything was stripped away, stolen when you weren't looking because you were trying to stay alive. In the face of such loss, one thing our people did not surrender was the meaning of the land. Whether it was their homeland or the new land forced upon them, land held in common gave people strength; it gave them something to fight for. And so - in the eyes of the federal government - that belief was a threat."

- Robin Wall Kimmerer

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It's strange.

The only thought running through my mind - how strange this all is. How surreal and impossible.

It's strange.

How cleansing and destructive and warm fire can be. How it needs the dark to bring forth its light. As I ran, it was the smoke that stung my lungs, and the glowing red that I could not escape, that only burned brighter every time I closed my eyes. Every time I blinked. Fire. Even when I was miles from the destruction.

It's strange.

Our war torn world of Eos had seen it's fair share of fire. I knew I was not the first one to feel the heat of it all.

The three kingdoms of the northern continent - Iburn, Diladia, and Taren - had been at war for most of my lifetime, all twenty three years of it. It seemed as if there was no end in sight.

Sometimes, I forgot what this war was even about.

On the surface, it seemed like it was about land, like all the wars before it. Who controlled what and how and why and when. The three kingdoms had been at each other's throats for hundreds of years. Ever since these lands were invaded by those from the eastern continent, looking to sever ties with their own rulers. They made their homes here, but brought with them all the angst they had hoped to leave behind from their original lands. The way the invaders tell it, they'd have you believe they settled this continent, tamed it and made the land better for it. Just like all stories, the truth has been distorted with time.

It's strange how, sometimes, it is only by the light of flame that we see things illuminated, exposed for what they are. Or were.

Before the eastern continent expanded their range, it was my mother's people, and people from other Tribes, that had populated this continent. Diladia, before it was Diladia, was occupied by the River, Mountain, and Desert Tribes. We had our own ways of living, worshiping, governing... most of them lost now to time and the will to survive.

Now, the three kingdoms that had been draped over our homelands were fighting over who controlled the Great Lake that used to be a center of healing and harmony for our people - all people - across the continent.

Some who don't know the magic of this land say that it is strange how all of the rivers from our lands flow into the Great Lake, whether they originate in the north or the south or the west... all find their way to the center.

As the settlers grew in number here, so did their demand on the natural world. We were using water at rates that would not allow the lake to replenish. No one seemed to have an answer other than to control it, claim it as their own, as they had with the land.

It's strange, how they thought they could control the water any more than they had controlled these lands or the weather or the people that were first here .

I honestly hadn't given much thought to water, or fire, or any of the destruction that either element could bring. My family lived a peaceful life on the border of Iburn and Diladia, growing crops and helping to feed our small village of Uweya. My mother and her people of the River Tribe had stayed alive by keeping their heads down. Even if it meant losing some of our culture, at least it didn't mean losing our lives entirely. The Desert Tribe had not been so lucky.

It's strange how our lives can be one thing, and then suddenly be something else entirely. How quickly destruction and rebirth can happen.

I worked in a bakery, when I wasn't helping my parents on the farm, passing my days with little regard for time that I had not realized was so precious. My sister was still school age, and attended classes with the other teenagers, as if the knowledge gained there would somehow help them be less hopeless in this unkind life. We kept living our insignificant lives, unbothered, until we could not ignore the violence that had been delivered to us. We were caught in the crossfires for reasons we would never understand.

It's strange.

How fire can be so mesmerizing, and so spurring to action.

We had lived a peaceful life.

But that was all before.

Before the day of nightmares.

Before everything went to shit.

Before my fifteen-year-old sister and I were orphaned and found ourselves running for our lives.