I was but a lone youth on the streets, whisked wayward into the burning abyss of the faltering gods as the effluvial grime of blood and misdeeds spread across block to block. Festering for a month I had been unbirthed, and soon I was rebirthed into a new child. I was spawned as a fetus of the flame, created unto mankind to dwelve deep into the chasms of the dark and light up the walls, resounding a burst of ember from mile to mile. I had not adjusted to my fire kin, yet I soon adapted and became their friend. I was bewildered when one day, similar to the day in which I had been grasped into the flames, I had been presented the freshness of the air that I had not been accustom to succumb to as a challenge to my ghostly enigmatic self. The air had an appalling texture to it that felt like a gesture of a deathly scream in physical form. It was told to me by the faltering gods that I had been chosen to be the first to embody a human, but with the ghostly heart of the blazing bell resonating within the husk I was to enter. I had became bitter, as I realized then I would be whisked away yet again from the new friends I had met, yet again it would be nice to gallivant about in a body that wasn't of tempered flames. I would miss my new friends, along with my old friends and family that I had grown accustom to. It took me hours upon months to take into account the path I shall walk, and I decided that it would be best for everyone to continue onward, headfirst into the dark and malicious, ill-intented shadows that had obstructed my way in hopes that they too shall falter like the gods and fade into nothingness. I thus took the form of a middle-youth of lore, and to their expectations, it became true that every middle-year would be sweltering with heat. And now, they roam the earth feasting on the cold that remains, so thus they can become yet again a hallow spirit that lingers the land, to become unfaltering yet purposeless until the next era of heat comes back. And to keep their secret sacred, I must walk the path of a foolish flame, walking between the edges of beyond and man, fearing only that of man's fire as it perchance may destroy the godly fire that embodies my internal energy. The summer shall rise and the spirits shall walk their walk, as we talk our talk, time holding upon the string that binds them and us to a stroll that the Earth takes around the solar system, and the books shall close as the tides will rise once more.
