*clears throat*

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PS: I need ginger!

Enough ginger available my sir. Please continue.

*spreads mat*

pabon:
Enough ginger available my sir. Please continue.

*spreads mat*

pabon my guy. Oya, chapter one na for you!

KachiUgo:


pabon my guy. Oya, chapter one na for you!

Thanks oo...Still waiting.

Children of the corn

Oya take this ginger Biko!!!

KachiUgo:


pabon my guy. Oya, chapter one na for you!

Where are you na? Come and start oo

All Rights Reserved.
Copyright, 2021 by Kachi Ugo

Epilogue

The world was iced over. Billions were dead. The few pockets of humanity left were being picked off one after the order by the Icycons. All because the children of fire had failed to stop the apocalypse.

Trenton walked across the vast wasteland, dead bodies dotting the landscape like sand on the seashore. If you'd looked upon him from the skies, you might have only seen a ragged human dressed in tattered black robes, trudging the wasteland of the dead. You might not have seen the grief that weighed heavily on him like a ship's anchor.

The grief of a thousand souls.

The grief of the lost.

Trenton paused, grabbed the small canteen hidden in the folds of his tattered robes and took a swig. His last swig of clean water. He'd been on this path for three weeks. This path was perhaps the most important path in humanity's history...because what he was about to do would make the present the past and bring forth another future.

That was if the story of the last Scorcher was real and not a fable.

Trenton was not one to chase down a fable, not when mankind was on the brink of extinction. But the fact that he'd come out here, at the threat of death, was a testament to the height of his desperation. It was proof that he'd gone mad--to believe that a Scorcher, one of the most dreaded faculties of the Children of Fire, had escaped the penetrative gaze of the Icycons. It was beyond mad.

Yet, here Trenton was, believing in a miracle when he knew for a certainty that the age of miracles had passed away when the last Child of Fire had died on the battlefield upon which Trenton stood.

Yet, here I am...

Trenton peeked into his canteen to be sure that he'd indeed ran out of water before he tossed it on the ground and continued on his journey. He had no need for the canteen anymore for he knew that there was no water in this desert as there was no life. Save of course the Scorcher who was said to roam these lands in hiding and self-imposed exile.

I am going to die here...It is only fitting that I join my brothers and die here.

Yet, Trenton was burdened with glorious purpose. To save the entire human race by asking a Scorcher to do what he'd sworn by Sacred Oath not to do. Sacred Oaths were bound by life. The moment the Scorcher broke that Oath, the Scorcher's soul would be consumed by Holy Fire for all eternity. That meant no resurrections. No rewards. Inexistence. It was a the worst kind of punishment a Child of Fire could ever endure. And this was what Trenton sought the Scorcher for.

Many believed Trenton's mission would fail. They said the Scorcher was a traitor and had saved himself when all his brothers and sisters had died on the battlefield fighting the Icycons. Why would he agree to help when the cost was no death now but inexistence?

Trenton did not have a response for that other than the fact that something had to be done. The world couldn't end like this. No, it couldn't.

Trenton walked the barren land for another three days before he collapsed on his knees, delirious from fatigue. With no more water to hydrate him, he was on the verge of death. He'd hoped to run into the Scorcher by now, but then again his mission had been doomed from the beginning. With no exact location of the Scorcher, other than the tale that he roamed the Peak of Thanatos, seeking him out was like seeking out a needle in a hay stack.

Trenton had rolled the dice, and he had failed.

Death... Trenton thought as he stretched out his arms, looked up into the sun, and smiled. He wouldn't face death like a coward. He'd run his race. He'd fought a good fight. He'd laid down his life in the hopes that he could save the world, and although he'd failed, there was no greater way to die.

Then a voice thundered in his mind.

"Why do you seek me, Trenton the Wanderer?"

The voice was like a crashing cymbal. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. IT wa sso loud and powerful that Trenton immediately grasped his ears. but it was no use.

"Tell me, Trenton the Wanderer!" the voice said. "Why have you chosen certain death? Why seek the one who does not want to be found?"

Trenton crumpled on the floor, pressing his hands into his ears, screaming in pain. "It. Hurts!" He shut his eyes in desperation.

Almost immediately, a powerful presence enveloped Trenton. The presence was like hot air, sinking into Trenton's pores and filling him with glory. Immediately, Trenton's fatigue vanished. His thirst vanished. His hunger vanished. The aches in his joints vanished. Trenton felt as he'd felt on the first day of his journey.

Trenton opened his eyes and before him was Salvation. He was resplendent in an armor of Holy Fire. To his right was an atrociously long sword of fire that curled inward at its end. His face was hidden behind a fiery armor plate. Swinging in the air behind him was his cape, a garment of fire.

The Scorcher stood firm, sure, unmovable, untouchable. He was Salvation manifest. He was omnipotence encased in fire. His presence swept across the wasteland, stretching for miles in every direction. He was more than Trenton could have hoped for and more.

"As I live and breathe..." Trenton whispered in reverence and awe. "The tales are true. You are the last Scorcher!"

"Tell me your intents, before I strike you down..." the Scorcher said with a gaze so cold that Trenton exceedingly feared and trembled.

To be continued...