Uncertain Fortunes
The flames grew higher, and Ore felt trapped. His lungs were filling with soot and smoke. He slumped low to the floor, trying to make his body small, and knowing he would fail. Who else would die here with him tonight? The question sent rage thrumming through him. Deep down he knew that someone's hatred of him had brought this down on his whole family. He might never share their blood, but they were his, and he was furious that anyone would dare tangle with them.
A crack splintered the wood at Ore's back, and for a moment he thought the ceiling was collapsing, and that he was going to meet his end. He braced for the jolt, he knew death, and would not fear its embrace. Somehow, he had never prepared for Death to have the same thick hands of a farmer or carpenter. He hadn't expected Death to jerk him backwards and into the cool night air. At best he'd expected heaven, and at least, hell. But now he stood trapped in the mortal world like all the other ghosts. He coughed, sputtering into the green grass. Aware that people still shouted and jostled around him, wondering if this would be his chance to haunt them.
"Quite a scare, wasn't it?" The voice was familiar, and Ore turned expecting to see a gilded ghost of the jeweler. Instead, he saw a man, and realized for the first time that he was in fact truly alive. "Thought we'd nearly lost you son."
The jeweler's family huddled together, watching their home sink to ashes. Bijou wept against Ore's shoulder, but his gaze was locked on the crowd, and for the first time in his life he experienced a strange emotion: hate.
A crack splintered the wood at Ore's back, and for a moment he thought the ceiling was collapsing, and that he was going to meet his end. He braced for the jolt, he knew death, and would not fear its embrace. Somehow, he had never prepared for Death to have the same thick hands of a farmer or carpenter. He hadn't expected Death to jerk him backwards and into the cool night air. At best he'd expected heaven, and at least, hell. But now he stood trapped in the mortal world like all the other ghosts. He coughed, sputtering into the green grass. Aware that people still shouted and jostled around him, wondering if this would be his chance to haunt them.
"Quite a scare, wasn't it?" The voice was familiar, and Ore turned expecting to see a gilded ghost of the jeweler. Instead, he saw a man, and realized for the first time that he was in fact truly alive. "Thought we'd nearly lost you son."
The jeweler's family huddled together, watching their home sink to ashes. Bijou wept against Ore's shoulder, but his gaze was locked on the crowd, and for the first time in his life he experienced a strange emotion: hate.