A Stone Set Alight

PROLOGUE:

“You have brought the death of Earth upon yourself.” I yelled to the people of Minutia.

 I brought my fist down. The impact of it - knuckles meeting Earth - shattered life. 

The end of the world was here.

YESTERDAY: 

“What’d you get for question sixteen?” someone whined from behind me. “I studied all month, but I still drew a blank!” They stomped their feet on the marble floors. A foolish choice since it’s known that Oakwood High has an indestructible structure. 

“I know, right? It’s so hard!” that person’s best friend complained in their squeaky sixteen year old voice. We were the same age so I couldn’t really say that . . . Mother wouldn’t want me saying that. 

A low voice chuckled in front of me, leaning against one of the many birch trees in the gardens. “Question sixteen? You couldn’t answer that?” 

Bronx and his goons roared with laughter. The two girls were most likely blushing from head to toe. 

Bronx glanced at all the sophomores before nodding at me, “We all know Wonderboy’s going to get in, but what about the rest of you? Any special talents you want to show off?” 

A mix of guffaws, giggles, and snorts bruised my ear. 

A cool breeze chilled my left arm. A sense of disproportionality crept into my mind. Without blinking, I lunged to my side - arms outstretched - just as a 20 foot birch tree tipped over. 

Gasps were elicited from every soul. 

I rolled my eyes, pushing the tree back into its roots. 

“Wonderboy saves the day again!” Bronx announced, clapping me on the back. I made a mental note to burn that jacket after I got home. 

That is, if I could even call 31 Lovegrene Road, my “home.”

Lovegrene Road wasn’t remarkable in any way. It looked like any other road. Sixteen houses on each side, a 5x5 bush in between each, and tall white fences. Number #1, 2 and 5 were the only houses with yards that weren’t trimmed to a perfect 5 centimeter length. That’s because the tenants were either disabled or too old and everyone felt bad for them. 

If you weren’t any of the above though, the Earth Legion would take your spouse, children, pet, - anyone - away. 

Not that Fanny and James, “my parents,” would give a damn. Minutia had sizzling skies and constant downpours. A match made in hell. The grass grew abnormally quick. They had me mowing the lawn every other week - until I was seven and my teachers found out I was an Earth genius. Then, they paid the nymphs to do it. When I asked Fanny why only nymphs worked in the cleaning industry, she laughed. “Lower-class, Peter. They’re lower-class.”  

Even seven-year-old me knew something was wrong with that statement. 

I pushed my diamond encrusted key through the keyhole and stepped inside to an abundance of flashing cameras, microphones, and lights. 

“Son,” Fanny crooned, gliding over to me with a tall glass of champagne in hand. It took every ounce of self-control to stop myself from rolling on the floor, in a fit of laughter. The word son was as foreign to me as Neptune or Saturn. “Tiger News is here to talk to you.” Her siren red lips parted, flashing me a honey-sweet smile. I knew what it meant. Don’t leak anything. I wanted to vomit. 

“So this is the famous Wonderboy?” I turned to the parlor. Sitting cross-legged on a urine-yellow armchair was a muscled, too-tall man flashing a fancy microphone. He had a grin on his face I’d seen way too many times. The greedy, googling variety. He had to be a vampire. His pointed canines and large leather sunhat only proved it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Chad Trad. I have a few questions I wanted to ask you.” 

Chad Trad? Seriously? His voice was frothy, like he’d recovered from a choking fit only seconds ago. I guess I could suffer for a little while more. He’d be dead tomorrow anyway. 

“Sure,” I mirrored his posture - cross legged, leaning forward slightly.

He and his team grinned excitedly. Cameras were set up, microphones checked, and in mere minutes the torture commenced. 

“My, my, where do I start?” he flipped through his useless clipboard. “You’re really Minutia’s very own superhero. The king might even have something to say about that. Tell me about your childhood, Peter. Your lovely parents have told me all about their undying love for you. How do you think they’ve helped you become who you are today?” 

Who I am today? I snorted. A socially-awkward and reclusive teen? Well, Chad Trad, my parents did that by locking me in my room and forcing me to study without any meals. They threatened to throw five year old me out of the house if I didn’t score a hundred on every test. They instilled an ice-cold terror in me that’s finally breaking. 

I didn’t say any of that. Instead I told the vamp, “Their kindness inspires me everyday to help people in need. Just today, I saved a tree from falling in my school gardens.” 

He gasped, hands flying to his mouth. His eyes widened comically. “Really?” He whispered.

I nodded. 

“Does it not scare you?” 

“No.” 

His head bobbed, waiting for me to elaborate. 

I didn’t. 

He coughed. “Um, Peter, how do you feel about the Elemental Exams? If I’m correct, you just took them today? You’re a senior at Oakwood High, right?”

“Yes, I am very grateful to attend such an inclusive and rich school.” At least, that’s what the principal told me to say if I was ever asked. 

“Are you confident you’ll get the WestWood University Scholarship?” 

Click, click. Lights flashed. A reaction was wanted. 

I grinned broadly. My pale cheeks hurt. “Yes, I studied very hard.” I said through clenched teeth. They rattled with each syllable. 

“And what about the ten thousand dollar prize money? No doubt you’ve won lots of money already through Earth fights and quizzes that your parents signed you up for.” Chad pressed. He was certainly thorough with his research. 

I glanced at Fanny and James. Fanny narrowed her green eyes at me, her pale, unblemished skin twitching. I hated how much I looked like her. James took another drag of his cigarette, looking like he could care less about this interview. 

Screw this. I stood up. “Screw the prize money.” 

Crash! went Fanny’s glass. James coughed. That got his attention. 

“What-” Chad started. I pushed him out of my way. Screw the whole interview. The world would be in tatters. No one will be alive to remember this. 

Fanny’s hand shot up and grabbed my forearm. “Go to your room.” she fumed, a searing, red glow burning bright in her eyes. 

I slammed my door shut and kicked the wall. 

“Probably just stress from the exams,” James nervously assured the interview crew. He was doing what Fanny called “Damage Control.” 

I pulled my gray curtains back with so much force, it blew the practice tests off my desk. The sun fell lower on the horizon, casting a beautiful orange shadow on my tiny bedroom floor. Colors were the only friend - aside from the front door - I had; the only comfort and luxury I didn’t have to spend hours studying to earn. Fanny and James didn’t think I needed anything more than a desk, bed, and toilet. Just the bare minimum to keep me alive. 

However, it wasn’t enough to keep me sane. Every night I reined in my screams, my overflowing anger. How different would my life be if I had a single friend? They didn’t even have to be human. I would’ve loved a pill bug, for God’s sake! But these are their mistakes. Mistakes my “Father and Mother” will regret. 

PRESENT:

“PETER!” Fanny hollered from downstairs the next morning. We hadn’t talked since the interview. “COME DOWN HERE! THE RESULTS ARE BACK!” 

I covered my ears, blocking out her words. Ignore it. Ignore it. Go back to sleep. 

“PETAHHH!”

I pulled back the tiniest amount of blanket, and slipped out of bed into my wooden shoes. 

I stepped downstairs and opened the door to collect the mail. I dropped three coppers in the hand of the pixie and shut the door with a little more force than intended. I needed to let off some anger. I leaned against the front door, staring at the thin, manila envelope. Inside would be a number out of 100. A percentage of my intelligence. 

“Well?” Fanny snapped. “Don’t just stand there! Open it!” 

“So . . . we’re going with omission? We’re not going to talk about yesterday-”

“Just open it!” Fanny shrieked. 

I huffed, peeling the flap and let the results fall into my hands. I didn’t need to look. I already knew. “Thirty,” I hissed, shoving the paper in her hands. 

“WHAT?” James roared, snatching the letter. “Thirty out of a hundred? This must be a mistake.” 

Fanny saw it another way. “You stupid, stupid boy!" She grabbed my collar. “You didn’t study enough!!” 

“I’ve done nothing but study, study, study,” I hissed. “while you wasted my money. I won’t have it anymore! I’m so sick of my so-called parents.” I shoved her away and wrenched open the door. What right do they have to be angry, when they’ve done nothing for me? I wasn’t a son to them. I was a vessel for money. 

“Peter, come back here right now!” The man yelled. They didn’t even deserve to be referred to with names.

The woman stumbled down the porch, grabbing my sleeve. “Peter John Cohen. You come back here right now. You will retake it-” 

I turned so sharply, I dug a hole in the dirt. “You don’t get it, do you? You never will. You’ve never raised me.” 

“PETER! What is wrong with you? This is not how Earth Mages act.” 

How wrong you are. 

I was taught that Earth is a calm element. Nature is stoical, restrained, unbreakable. We’re not supposed to have emotions. Earthquakes, tsunamis, and tornados are all the result of out-of-control Earth Mages. Yet, a Fire Mage can feel anything they want. Simply because flames are derived from burning hot emotions. Love, anger, jealousy. 

If living like a robot is what it takes to be an Earth Mage, I’d rather not be one at all. I’d rather keep my heart before it’s taken away. 

So, I sabotaged my Elemental Exams. Not answering the latter half of the test was the best thing I’ve ever done. Better than preventing volcanic eruptions, creating mountains, or even saving cats from burning buildings. 

I was a toy to everyone. Not a real being with feelings.  

It was time everyone paid. 

Fluffy green heads of the trees blew off. The rocks beneath my feet rattled, forming an unsteady beat. People ran to and fro, screaming bloody murder. Fanny retreated into the safety of the house. It was time to show these people who they were messing with. I raised my fist.  

“You have brought the death of Earth upon yourself.” I yelled to the people of Minutia.

The pearly white clouds danced together, mixing and mixing, until it was one fat, gray monster looming over the city. 

Then I brought my fist down. The impact of it - knuckles meeting Earth - shattered life. 

My energy rocked the Earth to its core. I felt it. 

We were all blasted into the world of Space. With no helmet, no air tank, we all died. The physics and timing was a bit mushy - some people suffered longer, other’s died in an instant. 

But please do not mistake me for the Deathbringer. I was merely the executor.

THE END. 

Again any constructive criticism will be much appreciated!