Hand Of Flame

• Cory Holmes-sanderson, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2012

I woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking on the stove, and glasses of orange juice. What a heavenly smell. I heard the stove opening as Shane prepared to serve breakfast. I pulled the sheets off my bed and got dressed.
“Breakfast is ready,” Shane yelled.
I walked out to the dining room of our stone house and sat at the table, which had already been set. “What’s the occasion?” I inquired.
“You’re seventeen Amber.”
Knock, knock.
“Who could that be? It’s seven thirty in the morning,” Shane mumbled. Knock, knock. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
Shane was out of the dining room and halfway across the living room when knock, knock, bang. The door fell off its hinges as two shoeless boys in dirty ragged shirts and torn loincloths carrying a small battering ram. A third boy, similarly dressed, waited behind them. “By order of the Legion of the Forgotten Children you, Amber, daughter of Carlos, are being taken into the custody of Lord Cronus. The other shall die,” bellowed the lead boy as the three rushed into the room, daggers and shackles in hand.
There is a reason our house is built of stone. I stood and rushed towards one of the boys, hands flaming, and engulfed him in a blazing inferno. He died screaming to his Lord for mercy.
I turned to join the fight with the other two Legion warriors, but realised I did not need to, for Shane was jumping and twisting between them, coins soaring around him, parrying the strikes of the Legion men. The coins originated from the pouch at his side, which Shane wore at all times.
Shane turned to one of the warriors. “Heads, you die, tails you live.” He flipped the coin, and when it landed…
Heads.
As the affected Legion warrior ran at him, blade in hand, Shane pushed one of the coins, already stained a bloody crimson, through the man’s throat, using only his mind and the guidance of his hand. The coin passed out the back of his throat, trailing blood behind it. The boy died within minutes from lack of oxygen.
Shane turned to the last living warrior. “You wanna try your luck?” The child shook his head desperately. “Too bad.”
Shane again pushed the same coin rapidly through the air towards the warrior’s throat. “Wait,” I yelled. Both Shane and the boy turned to look at me, Shane confused, the boy with pleading blue eyes. I turned to the boy. “Who is Cronus and what does he want with me?”
“The Lord Cronus is our saviour. He leads our legion, and we fight for him. In return he gives us food, water, and a place to live,” the boy explained. “As for what he wants with you, I don’t know. I’ve heard rumours, but that’s about it. The rumours go that he is capturing Fireborn like you for the Phantom. But many rumours I hear are untrue. I am only a low ranking Child of the Legion.”
“Where can we find the ‘Lord Cronus’?” Shane asked.
“In the throne room of the Fortress of Time of course. Please, spare my life.”
“Thank you. You may leave. Just tell your Lord one thing. Tell him he has two brand new enemies.” The boy leapt to his feet and bolted from the room and ran off into the distance.
Shane turned to me. “We need to get out of here Amber.”