A Dream To Be The Very Best

A seemingly empty, gloomy field shrouded by a thick layer of opaque fog that blurrs lines and muddles minds. A fog that curls around and back upon itself; a blanket folding and consuming the now pointless streetlights. He sits alone on a decrped old bench. Eyes attempting to decode the familiar surroundings.

These eyes, if you could see them, would appear blank and hollow. Especially compared to what once lay within. A child with a pure heart and unlimited imagination, crushed by the cruel realities of growing up and the pain of loss. However, if one looked close enough, they would still see the embers of life dancing in his eyes against the maelstrom of feelings inside this tired man.

He used to come here often. He would play while listening to the giggling laughter of children or the sighs of parents. Images of the past blurred but still alive.

Now at his lowest point he thinks and reflects, coming to an inevitable conclusion. Perhaps it would be best for him to give up, on the life and the world that pains him so much. This thought is juxtaposed by some part of him, deep down that is refusing to roll over and accept reality. At this point he thinks it is best to grasp at any straw whether it be broken or not.

His thought processes was punctuated by a rumble, a flash of light and then a dull thud. Twitching helplessly slumped at the feet of the bench, when a strange sombre smile crept across the corners of his mouth.

He assumed it was over.

They say there is no rest for the wicked. As when he would regain conscious, once more, if you could call it that. This is because it was more of a vague awareness of the vast emptiness that he now found himself in. Once again he was left behind by the world to this time make some sense of this strange place.

Questions flooded his mind. The where, the what, the why all nothing in the face of this insurmountable darkness. Yet his curiosity got the best of him, his need for answers forced him to search this strange environment.

He begins to try and regain a greater sense of himself so he may discover the solutions to his questions. Heart in mouth he finds nothing with his clouded perception. It appears failure haunts him still.

The lack of knowledge eating him up inside mirrors what this place is doing to his mind, body and soul. The darkness he now found himself in began to ravenously consume of his being, memories, what made him who he was, were all swallowed whole by this mysterious place. A feeling of true emptiness overcomes him. Fighting to keep his eyes open a single word escapes his mouth.

"Why?"

With that simple word he is dragged into a deep slumber.

As the final sparks begin to splutter out, a vortex of flames blanket the darkness. The flapping of wingbeats echo throughout this dark void.

If one were to take a glimpse into that space they would see 'it'.

A glistening yellow body contrasted with its long, dull beak and upon its face rested sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to see through everything. But most intriguing about this creature, was its deep red flames that stretched all across its body and wings. Flames that a human may compare to the ones stolen from the gods.

This strange bird of fire gazed at the remnants of the man who found himself in such a cruel place. Filled with a sense of purpose it did something not so dissimilar from hug. Wrapping its blazing wings around the man much like a mother trying to keep its offspring warm.

The sparks that were once spluttering out, fed off the warmth it was provided, gradually emerging into a roaring inferno whoms wisps clinged on to the dissipateing pieces of the body it is held within. An aching pull dragged the pieces of the man back together to become whole once again.

"I think I will call him Ankoku, Ankoku Raijin."