Key to the World

Chronicles Unfolding

It's hot... what's going on? And what's that smell?

My eyes launch open as I hack and cough. I can't see anything! Am I trapped in a fire!? My chest burns as I swat at the smog in front of me hoping to relieve the pain at least somewhat. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blows in front of me, clearing the smoke and revealing a scene of utter chaos.

Tall buildings that pierce the skies besides you on every step you take, fires raging all around, rubble falling, mercilessly crushing people all running in a certain direction. The sheer force of the impact of collapsing buildings send tremors through the ground beneath me, causing a chain reaction and destroying nearby structures as well. Suddenly, a scorching mass of heat flies in my direction, I instinctively raise my arms to protect myself, but it whooshes just past my face, impacting the ground behind me. I uncover myself to look at who launched the attack. A hazy silhouette with a staff can be seen from the fires behind him. "Marcus!" A voice that isn't mine calls out from my position. "Why are you doing this!? We're supposed to protect the world, and look at what you're doing!?"

"Kade, don't you see, no matter what we do, it won't be enough. The people destroy this world without thought, and they aren't willing to learn. If we're going to die out anyway, I might as well put us to an end. It's a mercy." Kade? That's not my name, what's going on?

I breathe heavily and I reach into my pocket, bringing out a cobalt blue lock. 'Am I Kade right now?' I think. 'Maybe I should just let things play out on their own.'

The man whose body I'm 'piloting' throws it forward, and a glowing blue trail forms behind it as it flies. He takes hold of and tugs it hard. A loud set of clangs can be heard as he pulls back on the blue light, producing a chain of water. The lock on the head has also turned into a large weight.

"I don't want to do this, my brother-in-arms. Are you sure I can't convince you to stop?" Kade says in an attempt to reason with his opponent. "I'm sure you know the answer to that question..." The other person's form becomes more clear as he steps forward, and I can see him more clearly. On the top of his staff is a clear orb that holds a red locket, eerily similar to the one I got today. "Then let's settle our debate once and for all... 'which is stronger? Your magic or my chain dart?'" The magician chuckles as he taps his staff to the ground, producing three small burning orbs the orbit the bauble on the top of his staff. "I wouldn't have it any other way." The man whose eyes I'm seeing this scene unfold from glances down at the weapon in his hand and clenches down. "Its now or never, let's do this."

"GRAHHHH!!!" They shouted in unison as they charged at each other.

At that moment, I awoke, darting off my bed. Drenched in a cold sweat and panting heavily. "Haa, haa... The fuck was that!?" I exclaim. And the sound of bangs against sheet metal can be heard. "Shut up, cat! People are trying to sleep!" The sound of an elderly woman shouted through the walls. I roll my eyes at the interruption and try to diffuse the situation. "I got it ma'am, sorry, just a nightmare." I hear a soft scoff through the thin walls as the lady next door gets the last word in. "Sheesh, youngsters these days, no backbone at all."

I need some fresh air.

I put on my jacket and pocket the lock. It's gotta be related to that dream somehow, unless I'm way overthinking it. As I step out, I feel the chilly night winds through my furs, my pointed ears flick around, not used to the silence of the night. I reach to my neck, bringing my goggles up, I walk in the direction out of town.

As I near the gates, one of the guardsmen, a muscular puma, approaches me with one of her hands on the gun on her hips, but when she recognizes me, she relaxes. "What are you doing here at this time of night, ya rascal?"

I wave at her as I get close and explain myself. "Hey Dana. Can't sleep, had a nightmare, so I thought I'd go out for a while, search some scrap and let out some steam." She looks at me with a bit of worry in her face. "You good? You're not the type to have nightmares." Before I had a moment to answer her, she grabbed onto my shoulders and started shaking me as she asked a barrage of questions. "Did something happen to you? Are you in a gang? What trouble are you in!?" "Dana-" I try to speak up. "Please stop shaking me and I can answer your questions without wanting to throw up."

Snapping out of her daze of worry, she lets me go. "S... Sorry about that, Jamie." Rubbing my shoulders, I reply. "Geez, nobody would guess one of the toughest ladies in town would be such a worrywart." She looks away when I say that, crossing her arms and pouting. Her tail curls up in feign annoyance. "Don't worry about me, Dana, I'm fine. Besides, you'd be the first person to know if ever I am in trouble." I force a nervous smile as she stares me down with a suspicious gaze.

The muscular feline finally relents after a few moments with a long sigh. "Fine, Jamie. You've always been a trouble maker, but you at least had a good head on your shoulders. I hope you were being honest when you said I'll be the first to know when you're in trouble."

I lied.

Dana has been a chronic worrywart ever since we were kids, which is exactly why I can't trust her with anything until I at least figure it out halfway. I remember when we were 5, she stood up for me when the other kids bullied me for being smaller than them. And while I appreciate her for doing that a lot, it was very annoying for the next few months for her to basically be tailing me like a bodyguard. No matter how many times I said it was unnecessary. And 15 years later and she's still the exact same way.

We talk a bit more and catch up before I decided to get a move on. "Careful out there Jam." I roll my eyes at the old nickname, but I still held a smile on my face. "I will 'Danasaur', I'll probably be back after an hour or two."

I look down at my feet and take note of the transition between the dark orange rusted steel pathing of the settlement and the pale sands of the vast emptiness. I comb my hair with my clawed paws. I set off into the cold wasteland, walking towards the nearest scrapyard.

The winds at night are a full 180º from the gales during the day. The heat replaced with a bone-piercing chill. A shaky breath escapes my mouth, instantly becoming a white mist in the air. I breathe into my palms and rub them together, generating heat from friction.

I stand right outside the scrapyard. Large piles of rusted and crumbling metal piles high into the air. "Well, its been a while since I've been here. Let's see if there's anything new." I mutter to myself, going in.