Tale of a Flame

by BlazeKindling

Blaze Kindling

The story of yours truly starts with a nice, sunny day. The many different ponies running happily in the fields. Unfortunately, my mother was not so lucky, as she was on the hospital bed. I was born shortly after, and I was beautiful. At least that’s what my brother told me. A deep navy-blue coat, with a lime green mane. I was quite multicoloured, but I couldn't care less. I’d rather look weird than like a demon. Any ways, a few minutes after my arrival, tragedy struck for the first time. The hospital began to burn to ashes. My parents were caught in the fire, and only me and my brother made it out alive. This was the first of my fire-fuelled experiences. Any ways, I was sent with my brother to a small orphanage at the outskirts of town, where I lived for around 6 years. My brother and the headmistress of the orphanage taught me well, but it was after bed where I learned what would make me what I am now. On some days of the week, a couple young fillies and colts would sneak outside and start up a small campfire, roasting marshmallows and telling scary stories in the middle of night. At first I would just watch from my window, gazing at the bright flames, but as I grew older, my curiosity turned to obsession. I would practice making small fires after dark. I then began to show up at these little gatherings, showing off my skills in fire starting.

But, history has a way of repeating itself, and such is the case of my 6th birthday. My friends decided to throw me a party after dark, making a massive bonfire. The fire caught onto the nearby bushes, and gradually made it’s way back to my home. My brother was asleep, and so was the rest of the orphanage. I ran in, crying “FIRE!”, but no one heard me. I ran to wake the headmistress, and when she saw the blaze, she triggered the fire alarm. After a few short moments, the crowd of frightened youngsters stampeded out the door. My brother wasn’t one of them.
Denying straight orders from the headmistress to get as far away as possible, I ran
back to my room to find my brother. I ran, my mane dripping with sweat as the fire cooked me alive. My brother was trapped under a fallen support beam, and I knew that it would take a couple minutes to lift. Even with the odds on the other end of the spectrum, I charged straight into the beam, attempting to budge it using the combined strength from my hooves and wings, but to no avail. My brothers calmly pleaded for me to stop. Now my face was drenched not with sweat, but with tears. I knew I couldn't save him. I pounded my hooves into the thick wooden beam, but my efforts only made my stamina grow ever more depleted. My brother said that he was proud of me being so brave, and that I should save myself. He handed me the necklace from my mother, the one she had given my brother just before she had me. I weeped, but deep inside I knew it would be the only thing I would remember about him aside from ashes and charred bones. I ran, and the building collapsed behind me. I was bawling at this point, and as I looked back, I saw my life ablaze in hellfire. Instead of grouping up with the rest of the orphans, I stupidly ran into the woods, doing anything to separate myself from this devastating memory. I lived on berries and hammocks for 2 years, before the final tragic lightning bolt struck. A squadron of royal soldiers trampled through my camp, claiming that Changelings had come through this area. My luck was at zero at this point, so of course I was mistaken for one of those shape-shifting horror shows.

I was dragged back to their camp, where a very demanding officer gave the soldiers traipsing along with me an execution notice. I managed to get a glimpse at what the execution was, and my eyes grew wider than ever before. Death by Spit Roast. I was to be turned around slowly on a wooden stick over the accursed element that had ruined my life. I was tied up on the branch and burned. I could feel my flesh melting, my brain burning. I could feel the flame in every molecule of my being. Just after I had accepted death, they removed my charred body from the fire. Apparently, Changelings cannot stand heat for more than five minutes, and change to their true form after this point. I had been being burnt for five and a half minutes straight. I was given a nice comfy stretcher to lie on while I thought about what would've happened if I had stayed in the fire for a couple more minutes. Two weeks later I was cleared for walking, but told not to push myself. This had been the first time I could look at myself in the mirror. My lips trembled and my legs faltered. My once lime green mane had been roasted red, and my deep blue coat was charred red. But by far, the worst part was my cutie mark. What was once a congratulations for my dramatic flare, was now an unforgiving flame. A cruel reminder of what made me into this monster. After this point, for about three months, I had nightmares about a demonic entity possessing my body and brutally burning everything and everyone I had ever seen, known or heard of. Usually after these nightmares, I would wake up to see my cutie mark flashing for a brief moment before dying down.

This wasn't just a bad dream though, it was a warning. Not even a week after my horrid dreams stopped was my first “accident”. I was being tormented by the local bullies about my obsession with fire, when I became over stressed. The anger built up inside, until I could not contain it any more. Although, my anger exploded in a more literal term. My body erupted with pure hellblaze, as the demon inside tore itself out. I woke up the next day lying in a small clearing at a forest. Or at least, I thought it to be a clearing. It turned out to be a crater that formed by my body falling from the skies. There was seven mares looking down onto me, and whispering silently to each other. I leaned up and immediately felt a hoof push me back to the ground. I looked up to see a orange earth pony with a cute cowboy hat staring down at me. She squinted before speaking in a texan accent. “Look, I dunno who you are, but lets just say you ain't going’ nowhere till we say so.” I nodded to the best of my abilities, before another mare shoved her off of me. “Applejack, no need to be so rude. Our friend here just had a rough night. Isn’t that right, darling” said the other mare, her curly purple mane swishing in the wind. I then felt my eyelids slamming down like rocks, and I passed out. Just before I lost my consciousness, I heard a deep voice tell “Applejack” to take me somewhere safe. And that’s how I ended up in your barn.
“Damn, that's one hell of a story you got there mister.” Applejack stated as I finished up my story. Before she exited the barn door, she asked me one question

“I never caught your name.” she said with a curious tone. I looked at her and said one word:

“Blaze.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's Note:

Since I have previously written an entire story, all parts will be uploaded today.