King of Zara

I. Peace Island The whole world around us begins to shake. Desperation is in everybody’s eyes. Our world is no longer green pastures of sunflowers or breezes that taste of sea salt. The pastures are now turning black as the ground cracks open and red veins dance through the thick magma that is bursting from the depths of the island’s crust. This is not how I thought it would all end. I look over at my friend Sione, and I see it in his eyes, the fear that we might actually fail. For months, we have been running to prevent this very moment. We gave it our all. Is it really going to end like this, even before we get to play our hand? After all we’ve done, is this how it really all ends? “Come on you cowards, this is no time to be scared. We still have time to save Peace Island,” says Tuy. “But how? Everything is in flames!” Exclaims Sione. “Tuy is right. The worse has yet to come. We can still stop it!” “The castle was the first place that was hit. So, we should probably head there first,” says Tuy, standing back in his rightful place as commander of this mission. He wastes no time as he takes off in a full sprint. I get ready to follow him but Sione grabs my arm. “King. This is already not looking good. Maybe we should just focus on evacuating the island.” “We are not running away. We will not let anyone or anything push us out of our home.” “But, what if-” “I understand you are scared. I am too. Our world is falling apart right before our eyes. I know it’s scary, but just because our greatest fear is right before us doesn’t mean we should give up. We can’t be cowards forever. One day, we are going to have to change for the better.” “Well, maybe one has to be a coward in order to survive.” After I hear the word ‘survive’, I suddenly feel hot, hot as the red veins of magma that are closing in on us. Sione is a soldier just like me. We both have given our lives for the last couple of months for this mission. But right here at the end, he wants to run away because it now has become too tough? We should be ready at any time to lay down our life for our region, for we took the soldiers oath. It makes me so mad to see that he has not changed after all we have been through, that he is being so selfish, that he has forgotten the life that is at stake. A life that is worth saving, even if it means death. “Sione...” I mumble under my breath, my body still growing hotter. “King, calm down, you’re glowing!” I can hear his voice shaking as I look down and see soft white specks of light starting to encase my body along with a light breeze that brushes my cheek. I frantically start trying to brush off the glowing white specks. I fall to my knees and grab my head as it begins to pound viciously. My breathing is shallow and the world around me is losing focus. Tears begin to pour from my eyes at the sight of my own weakness and fear of the inevitable. I turn to Sione, who is sobbing as he tries to get to me, but some type of force field is keeping him out. He bangs on the dome that has shrouded me in its devious care. I grab my chest that is burning as hot as the magma surrounding us, beating at it repeatedly, trying to stop the inevitable. But, the white light that has encased me is too heavy. I lower my head and fall to my knees as a tear escapes and runs down my cheek, and at that point, it begins. The red veins in the magma crackle and fully break free, straight up the middle of Peace Island, and our world splits in two. I’m shaking as the pulsating energy aura no longer encases me and I fall face down onto the scolding ground. All I can see around me is destruction. Every time I breathe, the pungent smell of brimstone, melting bones, and flesh twirl around in my lungs. It is unbearable. I just want this all to end. Lava is now moving at light speed towards me. My body is so stricken with fear that I am unable to move. I see my home split in the middle, houses destroyed, greenery burned, and my neighbor’s dead. This is not my home. I must stop this from getting any worse. I don’t want to see the leftovers this disaster leaves after it is done with its feast. I stretch open my arms wide and try to feel the calm breeze of our home. I close my eyes to this new world, this world of flames, and I’m back on Peace Island. The endless miles of sunflower fields, so high, that you could get lost in them. The tall mountains that harvested golden apple trees in the spring. I feel the sand between my toes as the transparent water that reflects the sun tickles my heels. At night, the sea becomes a field of stars, and I swear I can hold them in my hands. The village’s straw topped huts glow in the distance like fireflies. Lanterns light up the front of shops and homes. Though late, children still run through the streets as mothers try to haggle with Old Man Tim for his delicious cream pies. There are no frowns on people’s faces, except for the Tree Stump Drunkards who have lost all their money again gambling. However, their smile soon returns as they become merry from the spice of olmalga berry tea and they quickly forget about their empty pockets. The village smiles and above it smiles the royal palace in all its splendor. Its ivory and red pillars and marble details softly reflect the night. Only the highest of the high can see the inside, but the outside is enough to make one become lost in wonder. Then I remember my home, not this crumbled mess before me. My intact home on the outside wall of the Royal Town. Though my house wasn’t as luxurious as those living on the other side of the wall, I was blessed to be a little better off than most villagers. I never had to worry about food or necessities. I was also able to have a good life without having to adhere to strict codes and constantly worry about my status, like those in Royal Town. Though the Lower Village and Royal Town were two different worlds and feuded at times, I'm reminded of our Salt Festival. During the Salt Festival, the lower and high class can be seen joining hands and singing our village’s folk songs. The women participate in bake sales as the men try to show off their strength, which the village men usually win since they’re used to working with their hands. Come to think of it, the night of the Salt Festival is where this all began. Though I sit on this burning world, I sadistically laugh at myself. I guess I should have gone to the bathroom instead of running to Tuy’s beck and call.