Chapter 3: The boy who had zero (3)

Fire. Hot expanses of orange, yellow and red energy; ever consuming, ever raging. Until it consumes what it touches, or it is consumed itself, fire does not stop. It will not stop until one of them reaches zero.

Tony was rudely awakened by the sharp and heavy smell that ran up his nose. It was the smell of smoke from burning objects, more accurately, burning wood. Tony opened his sleepy eyes, and he saw. Black smoke came through from the space around the door of his room.

The surprise was evident in Tony's face. He maneuvered himself towards the space on the ground where the heavy smoke doesn't occupy, and made his way towards the door. To more of his surprise, the door bursted open. Pieces of the door lay scattered on the ground. A middle-aged man wearing a brown, hooded robe with a wand stood in front of the broken door.

"Tch, of all the kids in here, the first I find is the useless one," said the man with a click of his tongue.

After hearing those words, Tony found brief respite, albeit amongst his many other emotions. He's not the one they're looking for. But, why is he here then? And even amidst all the fire? Thoughts and emotions ran rampant in Tony. Despite that, the primal desire of self-preservation kicked in and took first priority.

"Help me, please!" begged Tony, who was trying his best not to inhale smoke.

However, the man continued to talk to himself.

"Heh, it's alright if I take out my frustrations on this little guy, right? I mean, no one would look for the useless him!" sneered the robed man, as he readied his wand.

"Flicker, flare!"

A small flame flared out of the wand, towards Tony.

Tony, all alert now, the sleepiness all gone, rolled to his side and dodged the flame. He wasn't sure before, but now he is, that this guy is the one who is responsible for this fire.

"Eh, you can move huh. Well then, entertain me kid! I bet my companions already got the objective. Dance kid, dance!"

More flares shot out of the wand. Tony continued to dodge all of them, however his chest tightened, and he was about to cry. Why is he doing this? What did we, from the orphanage, do wrong to deserve this?

"Huh, you can dodge those things. Well, then, let's turn up the heat! Lash, fire whip!"

A long cord made out of fire with a fire ball on its tip sprang out of the wand. The man pulled back the cord, and cracked it towards Tony.

Tony dodged the fireball, but the latter caused a small explosion on where it landed, and Tony went flying towards the wall of the room. His left arm absorbed much of the impact.

"Hahahaha!" A maniacal laughter came out of the robed man. He was so amused.

Tony just couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why the man was acting like that. He couldn't understand why he was being treated like that. He couldn't understand why he could do nothing. He couldn't understand why he had nothing.

He just wanted to be like his savior. Yet his magic ability was non-existent. He just wanted a home. Yet right now his home is on fire.

Tears have started to form in his eyes.

"Ah, this again. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of my weak self, who cries at every instance. I'm tired of this unfair world that robs anyone of anything at any given time. I'm tired."

That moment of realization and resignation is supposed to be the mark of someone who gave up.

But instead, primal instincts kicked in again. That of survival. Instincts that beings of the wild naturally possessed and have a high amount of.

He looked up to the ceiling, swallowed the lump of saliva down his dry throat, and wiped away the tears forming in his eyes. He stared directly at the robed man.

"Oooh, looks like the little runt is back on his feet. That's right, entertain me more!"

Tony made a bold move. He ran towards the robed man. It was bold but probably the best. Most magi are usually weakest at close range, especially those who chant long. Furthermore his opponent was wielding a long fire whip, most effective at medium low range. Tony charged at the robed man as fast as he could.

The man noticed this, and so he dispelled his flame whip.

"Flicker, flare!"

Tony dodged the little flame. When another flame was fired at his feet, he simply jumped over it.

"Tch, little bastard!" cursed the robed man. Because Tony was too near, he couldn't use his stronger fire spells that required longer chanting. He tried to strike the little boy with his wand.

But Tony dodged it too. He slid down towards the robed man to dodge the wand, grabbed a piece of sharp, broken wood and stabbed the soft thigh of the man, through his robe.

Tony grabbed the piece of wood so hard that the splinters bore through his skin, but he didn't care. The man fell down and screamed in pain.

Tony felt his blood rushing throughout his body. He has never experienced this. He was wild, like a beast. He quickly stood up from his place. His instincts roared at him to eliminate the threat in front of him. He plunged the sharp wood through the soft side of the neck of the man. Blood spurted out like a fountain and smeared Tony.

It was an ordeal. It took Tony everything that he had, physically and emotionally. He was drained, but he wanted to survive. He fell down, but continued to crawl towards a safe place.

At last he reached the back door of the orphanage. He crawled as best as he could towards it.

There, he smelled the cool, evening air that was untainted by smoke. There, he saw the light of the moon shining down upon the dark world.

There, he saw not a single living soul.

There, he saw Cygmund's headless body.

And there, he realized, that the number of loved ones that he has is zero.