Inner Fires Ch. 01

Chapter 1: The Flame is Lit!

'A rainy night. Why does it always seem to be raining?' a lone man mentally asks himself as he opens the front door to his house and glances outside, 'But then again, I suppose there is much for the heavens to weep about.'

With a glance back into his empty home, he steps outside and closes the door behind him, inserting a key into the lock before turning the key and testing the door. Satisfied that an errant burglar wouldn't be using his front door without making a racket or taking the time to pick the lock, he opens his umbrella and continues on his way. He steps away from his porch and out into the rain, the thin material of his umbrella keeping the water from soaking into his clothing.

'What a night...it feels so dreary, it's almost unnatural,' he thinks to himself with a pair of wandering eyes, taking in the appearance of the empty street and the heavy down pouring of rain, 'Best to gather what I need before I return to my room for the night. Hold on...is that...screaming?'

Following his ears, he walks along the pathway and sniffs at the air, covering his nose with a hand a moment later and cringing softly in revulsion as he realizes where he's smelled this before. Scenes of battlefields run through his mind, the scent of burning flesh prevalent in the air and lingering like a curse, the scent of death.

'By the gods...what has happened?' the man thinks to himself, hurrying his pace and readying himself for a battle, his senses sharpening and expanding in preparation for finding and confronting the killer. 'I can't abide a murderer in this city. I'll stop them and turn them over to the local guard!

Turning the corner, the man is faced with a dark scene, a smoldering corpse laying on its back, another still-living man babbling in terror as he scoots back, glancing between the corpse and the child standing at the end of the alleyway. Her eyes are filled with terror, her hair seeming to be burning brightly and a broken bottle in her hand, held defensively in front of her, while the other hand seems to be surrounded in flames.

"G-get back! Stay away from me! It's n-not yours!" the child shouts, realizing that she has attracted a witness to the scene. She brandishes the bottle towards the man cowering on the floor, her hands trembling, "You c-can't steal from me! H-help me, mister!"

"N-no! I'm s-sorry, alright!? Please don't kill me!" the mugger pleads with plenty of terror of his own, clearly realizing he chose the wrong target, "I-it's yours, okay!? Keep i-it, it's not worth dying for!"

The man who came across the scene narrows his eyes at the young man he sees before him, then looks towards the dead body on the stone road. The blackened knife in the dead man's hand reveals a fair bit to the man who stumbled onto this, quickly understanding the situation to an extent.

'These people tried to attack this child! How dare they!?' he thinks to himself, clearly displeased about what he sees. Stepping forwards with a burst of speed, he wraps his arms around the young man's neck and puts him in a headlock, "Don't struggle, or it will hurt more. You won't die, but you will wake up in a prison cell."

Whether not hearing the older man's advice, or simply not wishing to heed it, the mugger begins to struggle in his grasp, trying to claw at and grab at the one choking him. The man holding him in his grasp only sighing in response, a few moments passing before the mugger loses consciousness, his hands slumping to the ground.

"Now that that's taken care of..." he mutters to himself as he releases his grasp on the unconscious man, standing to his full height and offering a kind smile to the child, trying to calm her, "Are you alright, young one? You're not injured, are you?"

The child pants hard and glances up at the man who rescued her before she looks at the body of the man she killed, her hands shaking even more and her fire magic extinguishing itself. Her trembling lips open as if to respond, then she slumps to the side and faints.

Seeing this, the man's eyes widen and he dives forwards, barely catching the girl before she would have struck the stone, a small glass bottle slipping from her pocket and onto the pavement. The soft sound of glass gently striking the road brought the man's attention to it, a hand picking it up before he slips it into his own pocket.

'Better to bring this with me, I think. But why did those men attack her, to begin with?' the man ponders to himself, picking the girl up and hoisting her over his shoulder before he picks up his umbrella and shakes it off. Holding the rain repelling device above him again, he turns and begins to head back to his temporary abode here, 'I can't just leave her here. Better to bring her somewhere safe and let her explain what happened in the morning.'

Exiting the alleyway and returning towards his dwelling, he wanders down the still empty street, not a soul besides the two of them in sight. This worries the man, and he once again picks up his pace, soon reaching his door. Closing the umbrella, he places it to the side and uses his keys to unlock the door, opening it and carrying both the girl and the umbrella inside before closing it behind him, the lock soon firmly secured.

"Now, to get this one dried off and in a warm bed so she doesn't catch cold," he says to himself, taking her to the home's bedroom before he uses a towel to dry her off, wrapping her in it. He then takes another towel and starts to dry off her hair, the girl now laying on the bed, "She should dry off quickly, given what she is...Flame-kin really are warm. Good for surviving hypothermia, that's for sure."

Putting her bottle and other belongings to the side of the bed and in view of the child, he double-checks to make sure that she's dry enough to leave unattended for the moment, then leaves the room once he is satisfied that she is warm enough. Descending the stairs, the man enters the living room, glancing around at the scarcely furnished room, and soon sits on the sofa that rests in front of the television.

"She'll be alright...she's a tough one," he thinks to himself, laying down on the couch and slowly drifting off into slumber, 'Though she might not be feeling too well in the morning...her first kill...'

============

The next day, the sun shining through the curtain wakes the young girl in the morning, bright rays of light landing right on her face, her eyes fluttering open before they close again. Groaning in annoyance, she sits up and rubs her face with her hands, then freezes as she realizes that she is not in the alleyway that she usually sleeps in. Instead of her cardboard and plastic-covered box that she usually sleeps in, covered in scraps of old clothing that people threw away that she uses as blankets to keep her warm in the night, she is instead laying in a warm bed, covered in a comfortable, clean blanket, plush pillows laying where her head rested.

"I-I...where am I...?" she asks herself, sliding the blanket off of her and starts to look around the room as she carefully hops off of the bed. Taking note of the sparse furniture in the room, she grows concerned, though that concern diminishes a tad as she spots her small backpack and the bottle that she had in her pocket, "...whoever brought me here wanted me to see this. I hope it's all there."

The girl walks to her backpack before opening it and nervously looking inside, then sighs in relief as she pulls out a small knife, then a small pouch that jingles softly, "O-oh...it's still here. The knife too. It's like they didn't even look. They don't think I'm a threat..."

Putting her bottle into her backpack and pulling the knife from its sheath, she pockets the leather blade carrier and slowly walks towards the door to the bedroom while putting her bag on her back Once she reaches the door, she reaches for the knob and carefully turns it, the door opening without a sound. She steps out of the room and glances around, seeing only a single door and a staircase going down.

'Unless they're in that room...then they're downstairs,' she thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes and carefully checking the other door, only to find an empty bathroom, 'Okay...downstairs it is.'

Walking towards the stairs and gently setting the weight of her foot on the next step, a soft smile growing on her face as she realizes that it made no noise. Taking another slow step, she carefully descends the stairs and peeks around the corner of the banister, two stairs remaining as she stops.

'Someone is sleeping on that couch,' she thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes and leaning a bit closer, her hands firmly gripping the stair rail. The memories of last night rush through her mind as she realizes who is sleeping on the couch, remembering seeing his face for just a moment before waking up in that bed, 'I-is he with those guys that attacked me? Wait...what happened to them? I don't see them...and I think that's the front door.'

I'm gonna get out of here. If he tries to stop me...' she gulps as the thought crosses her mind, tightening the grip on her knife and taking another step down. Sighing softly, she takes another step down, then winces hard as the board creaks loudly, 'No! Oh n-no!'

Her eyes dart to the sleeping...no, now awake man, his eyes open and his body upright as if ready to defend himself. The man's expression and his body calms as he sees that she is the one on his stairs.

"Oh...it's you. Good morning, kid. You sleep alright?" he says, smiling softly and rubbing an eye with a hand, seeming relaxed and not aggressive in the slightest, "Last night was probably pretty scary, right? Those guys attacking you, I mean."

Remaining silent, she narrows her eyes and lifts her knife, point forward at the man, then points to herself before pointing at the door.

"Um...if I understand correctly, you want me to let you leave? No need for the knife, kid. I'm not going to try hurting you. I'll stay right on this couch," the man says, chuckling softly and sitting on the couch as he adjusts himself, "You hungry? Could at least eat breakfast before you go."

'I-I don't trust him. He could be just like them. But if he's telling the truth...'

Her eyes widen as a rumble echoes softly through the room, the man chuckling softly and the girl's cheeks reddening as they both realize the source of the sound.

"Sounds like a yes to me, hehe. I have some food in the kitchen there, or we could go get a bite to eat at a restaurant. I'm not going to hold you here against your will, I just want to make sure you're okay," he says with a smile, lazily jabbing a thumb at the visible cooking space, the small size of the two-story apartment clear, "Or I could just bring you home. Whichever you want. I'll make sure you get back safely."

Pondering this for a moment, the girl's eyes narrow even more as she deliberates over the idea presented to her, the knife slowly lowering as she realizes that the man doesn't seem to be growing hostile, acting as if her weapon doesn't exist.

"...o-okay," she says with a soft tremor in her voice, the tip of the blade now pointed at the ground. Sniffling softly, her eyes glance around again before she zeroes in on the kitchen, "Can...I really g-get some food? For free?"

"Of course, yes. You need to eat plenty at your age, after all. Can you tell me your name while I make you something? I can't just keep calling you 'kid,' now can I?" he questions with a chuckle, standing up and casually making his way to the kitchen to open his fridge. Peering inside, he begins to take a few ingredients out and places them on the counter, gathering a few spices from the cupboard after closing the fridge. "As for me, everyone calls me Paul. Especially my friends, and I think you've earned the right after last night."

"My name...i-is Cinder. My friend gave it to me," she says with a soft stutter, still nervous from being in the presence of a near-stranger due to her past experiences. "What a-are you making?"

"A dish that I have eaten many times, and still can not find an equal for," Paul says with a smile, glancing over at her and giving an exaggerated wink with a chuckle, "It is a dish that I suspect you will like, Cinder."

"How c-can you know if I'll like it before I try it?" Cinder questions, getting a bit closer to the kitchen and watching him begin to chop vegetables and meat into smaller pieces, a large pan left on the stove. "That's a lot of plants..."

'Looks kind of gross, actually. The meat looks yummy, though,' the girl thinks to herself, her hair flickering a bit in excitement as she focuses her gaze on it, 'That looks delicious!'

"You don't like your veggies? Interesting, that means no one cooked them properly for you. You need them to grow up big and strong, so you'll need to eat them too," Paul says with another chuckle and a smile, glancing at Cinder and beginning to chop up the meats he took out. "Thankfully, there will be plenty of meat for you to eat, too. Both of us can have breakfast with this."

"Do I have to...? They're not tasty!" Cinder says with mild defiance in her tone, much preferring to eat the baked goods and meats that she could find when she looked for food. "Meat is yummy, and so is bread! Why can't we eat that?"

"In honesty, I bought the ingredients to make this dish two days ago, and vegetables are also very good for you. So, I am making this for both of us. Do not worry, we can get some ice cream or candy later," he says as he prepares more ingredients and begins to place them in the pan, turning the element on and adding some oil. He takes a spatula from a drawer and begins to stir the food, Cinder not realizing how relaxed she is from the man's warm demeanor, and beginning to open up to Paul.

"Ice cream? Really? You really mean it?" Cinder excitedly asks, a large smile growing on her face as she jumps a bit in place, "I've always wanted to try ice cream!"

Pausing for a moment out of surprise and shock, Paul glances over at her and then soon begins to cook again, stirring the ingredients once again, "Of course, yeah. Have your parents never brought you to get ice cream before?"

Cinder goes quiet, her smile slowly shrinking as she looks to the ground, her shoulders slumping a bit. She holds her hands together, fidgeting in place and looking away from Paul, not wanting to see his face when she answers, "I-I don't have any parents, m-mister Paul..."

"You don't? Hm...do you live at the orphanage, then? It's not too far from here, after all," he says, glancing over at her and adding the rest of the ingredients to the pan, then goes to fill a pot with water, "And you don't need to call me mister. Just Paul is okay."

"No, I-I...I live in o-one of the alleyways," Cinder says with a somber tone in her voice, glancing away entirely, "Please d-don't throw me out cause I-I'm homeless...I haven't eaten i-in two days."

Paul goes quiet at her words, taking a few moments before he smiles over at her with a curious glint in his eye, "Would you be interested in learning to defend yourself, Cinder? I happen to be a martial artist of some skill and can teach you," he starts, Cinder seeming hopeful of his idea so far, "But it would mean that you would have to travel with me. I would teach you to cook, help you survive, and teach you to defend yourself. I can make it so that defeating opponents like the two men who came after you last night is easy, with the right training."

"Really? Does...that mean you would be my dad?" Cinder asks with a raised brow, unsure of how to feel about this. She shuffles her feet against the floor a bit and looks away, nervous about agreeing to join someone she has just met today. After all, just because he is friendly now, doesn't mean that he has good intentions, "We j-just met today. Isn't that a little fast? I'm o-only six!"

"That may be so, but I know you have potential," Paul says as he continues to make the food, the pot of water now boiling as he adds a sizable portion of dry noodles into the pot, "You need to learn to control that potential, or you may hurt someone without meaning to. Learning to control your own power is needed, or your power will control you. And I do not say this to be rude, but do you have another place to stay, alley aside?"

Stirring the food in the pan, he grabs a jar and adds a dollop of a sauce from inside of it, a sharp, rich scent filling the room and making Cinder's mouth start to water. Her eyes glance up at the pan and she gives a soft smile, liking the idea of learning to keep yourself under control and make yummy food, 'Maybe he is one of the good guys. He said he can fight, right? And he's gonna teach me, too! He must have saved me from those bad guys last night!'

Her smile grows and she begins to shake her head, seeming to be glad to accept the offer now, making Paul raise a brow from how quickly she agreed to the request, despite her earlier protests, "No, I-I don't. I'll d-do it! I'll get big, and strong, and be able to keep both of us safe, Paul!"

"I'm glad to hear that, better to wander and be able to provide for yourself than being trapped in a place that you cannot survive inside of," he says with a smile, chuckling softly and stirring the noodles with a toothed spoon, the food seeming to be nearly done, "At the very least, I can promise food, safety, and training. You'll also get some money every so often to buy what you like."

"I-I can get money, too? You...you h-have to be kidding, right? This seems too good to be true," Cinder says with a soft chuckle of her own, seeming to be trying to lighten the mood to play off her shock, never having experienced kindness like this before, sniffling softly as her emotions begin to overwhelm her, "Thank y-you, Paul. I m-mean it."

"It is nothing more than every child deserves. You are a kind soul as well, I can see that. That is what is needed, hold onto that dearly," Paul says with a comforting smile, carrying the pot of water over to the sink before emptying it into the strainer, creating a cloud of steam to rise from the sink, "It will get you places you never imagined you could reach. I made the mistake of being selfish and rude in my youth, and I paid the price. Kindness will go so much farther than cruelty, Cinder."

"Uh...okay?" she says with a questioning tone and a tilted head, not sure of exactly what he is talking about, "So just...don't be mean, right?"

"A simple explanation, but precise enough, yes. Be nice to others, unless they are trying to hurt someone else. Then you do everything in your power to save them, once you are trained enough," Paul says, taking the strainer full of noodles and adding them to the pan, stirring the noodles in the ingredients and the sauces. He continues stirring for a few more moments before he uses the toothed spoon to put the food on a pair of plates, a hearty serving for both of them. He then takes the plates over to a dining table nearby and collects some cutlery for the two of them, placing the forks and knives next to the plates, "Of course, that is only if you can do so without getting yourself hurt. If the situation is an impossible one, fleeing is smarter than interfering if you and the one you intend to save will both perish."

"So I shouldn't try to fight the guards, right? Cause there are a lot of them?" Cinder asks with another tilt of her head, trying to grasp his words, "The guards are good guys though, right?"

"Usually, yes. Some may be bad people, but few are truly evil, just stressed and overworked. You should not be fighting guards anyways, especially without backup. But yes, do not fight groups that you cannot win against," he says with a chuckle, getting a pair of glasses and filling them with water from the tap before carrying them to the table and placing them down, "Violence is a last resort, young one. It should not be the first thing that one relies on. Come, let's eat."