93 – Birth

It was just a tiny spark, barely visible in the darkness.

He cupped it gently in his hands, trying not to move too fast so it wouldn’t die away.

The wind blew hard between his fingers, laughing at his tiny ember. He could hear the voices screaming from the darkness…

“– It won’t last.”

“– It’s just too small.”

“– It’s not even a real flame.”

He held it tight against his heart, and fed it with his own blood.

The voices hollered louder all around him, describing his impending failure in painful detail. He felt the first blow, right in the middle of the back.

More shoving and pushing. He stumbled, trying hard to keep his balance while strange hands tried to pry the tiny light away from his grasp. He held on even tighter.

One of the voices screamed in his face.

“– How dare you? What makes you think you have the right?”

He stared right back into the darkness, his eyes ablaze. The voices became suddenly quiet, he could feel their sudden fear, their hesitation.

“– I dare because I’m not afraid. That’s all the right I need.”

His whole self became a shining ember, burning brightly into the darkness. His arms opened wide as huge wings of flame and gold unfurled to fill the sky.

The magnificent dragon roared with the ancient newborn voice of creation before jumping away to fly among the stars.

He fell to his knees, exhilarated and exhausted at the same time.

He looked down, and noticed a tiny drop of water on the dry soil.

“– It won’t last.”

“– It’s too small.”

“– That’s not even a puddle.”

He gently cupped it in his hands…

…and smiled.

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