5 Minute Freewrite Day 448: Fire Alarm

I’m not a person who hates all that much, I’m also not someone who truly fears many things, it has been that way ever since my first memories of this life. But everyone has their moments of darkness, of despair, and when you live as long as any member of my people, you tend to get even more. The very first one for me contrast with an opposite day in that island, where years before my brain froze from a sweet treat, this time, my heart burned with the desire to may them pay.

It has been a while since a fleet of very curious boats came to our docks. The people inside were covered in furs, and were very big, humans it seem, but they had a couple of other creatures with them. The relaxed atmosphere was perturbed, the inhabitants not used to see rough warriors like them, but some tense minutes later, a loud laugh erupted from the council chamber, and drinks were shared. The new guest just wanted to do some trading.

For a while we thought that, and everyone kept doing their jobs, my friends in the market or the farms, and my parents and I between the library and art gallery. They were nice, until the very last moment. There was a silent night, darker than any others for some reason, where I woke up to see my mother in distress, she was worried about something she couldn’t say exactly what it was, and it had been that way since the new guests arrival, she never saw them with good eyes, never felt comfortable around their rough remarks and jokes about our culture and art, but she always treated them nicely, as it was the custom. I just tried to avoid facing them, they were interesting to see, but felt wrong for some reason.

I was bringing her a cup of milk tea when we heard it: the loud thunderous roar of our fire alarm. Father then came and told us what we suspected already: our recent guest were attacking and burning everything, and the gallery with the portraits and frescoes my parents made, was now more ash and flames that anything else.

The escape was difficult, many people were left behind, including my parents who tried to make room for me to escape. Of my old friends, only one accompanied me in one of the few boats who escaped: Boddynock, the gnome merchant. I cried myself to sleep. From then it was long before I recovered my old cheery self, but a lot of things happened, and I found that the moon that shined in my hometown’s sky, was the same everywhere, and that she would always protect and guide me.