Tale of Flames

Julianne Scott

The forest was on fire.

Flame raced between the burning trees and lept a log. It was sort of ironic – a flame running from fire. Flame didn’t have time to think about this, though – she was kind of more worried about running for her life.

She easily jumped another root but stumbled on the next. She caught herself with her hands and jumped up again. She looked back, which was a mistake – the fire was quickly advancing on her.

She started sprinting again, but a cramp caught her on the side. She pushed on, wincing as the pain burned. She hared through the bushes and trees but she finally had to stop. She dropped onto her knees and waited for her scolding.

“Sad,” the fire said, stopping in front of her. “Couldn’t you have gone on a little longer?” Flame glared at the fire. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t singed my calf at the beginning, I would have gone a little faster.” she snapped.  The flame sighed. “Let’s go home,” it said. “Oromas is probably waiting for us.”

Oromas looked up as Flame entered the small, wooden cabin. “Another race?” he sighed, looking at Flame’s burnt legs. “Of course.” Flame grumbled. “Did you think I tried to outrun a real fire?” Oromas returned to the head of lettuce he was chopping.

“I’m going for a walk,” Flame muttered. She pushed out of the house.

She passed the starting point of her races. She heard the rustle of leaves and drew out her bow.

Suddenly a sharp pain caught her on the back of her head. She screamed and swung around, her arms flailing, her palms looking for a face to slap.

Another pain got her, but this time she was knocked out, and the world went black.
(to be continued)