This age of laughing and peace ended when the boy found his power. It grew within him, burning his veins until he could no longer control it. Fire spread from his body, spreading to those around him.
Like a virus, it infected and burned them. No longer did they fill their bellies with joyous air. No, now they filled with flames, charring them from the inside out as the power spread, devouring, never quenching its desire for more bodies.
Entire villages and towns were destroyed, fire claiming each life it found.
When it reached the cities, armies and militias deployed, scientists studied, people and bodies quarantined. But still, the fire within spread. No medicine, magic, or religion could stop it.
It was an age of death and terror.
Then a new power arose. Water flowed within her, spilling out and spreading in the same way as fire. At first the people feared, running and avoiding water. But like fire, it was impossible to escape. But the water did not kill them. It was uncomfortable but manageable.
When fire met water, they warred within their host. Cool turned hot, and the child screamed—but lived. The flames inside extinguished, and the water cooled then faded.
The child’s crying ceased, and a new age began. People flocked for protection, some even worshipping this new cure. They wanted the water within them, to fight the still-spreading fire. And one day, maybe, they would be free of fire and laugh again.
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