The Flaws Behind Perfection-currently editing

Chapter 23: Jason

A world on fire. That's the last thing Wren saw. Maddox was working on a new type of World, and this one happened to be one surrounded by volcanos. Father sent him knowing it wasn't ready and we never heard from my older brother again. We assumed he was dead but with the dreams I've been having, I'm starting to have my doubts. I can at least take a look and if he's not there, well I'll be dead, just like him. My father never completed the World of Fire. If Wren is not there, I'll find him in the afterlife.

I stumble onto volcanic rocks, the bottom of my shoes already steaming. I start sprinting to the closest volcano, lava erupting from its mouth. It makes its way to me at a sickly fast speed. I dash to the right, narrowly missing the burning orange liquid. Somehow, the river of magma follows my movements. I go left and so does it. I start at it in horror. The lava is alive. I shuffle backwards, the lava licking my shoes. I stifle a scream, the pain searing. I hit a big rock, nowhere else to go. The lava inches closer to me, only a few feet away. I close my eyes and wait for the searing pain in my toes to overcome my whole body. A sensation that never comes. I open one eye, than both in wonder. The earth's blood stands twelve feet high, frozen. I look around for anything, or anyone who could have done that. I find nothing. I'm still completely alone. I look over myself for any injury. Apart from my burnt shoes, nothing is damaged. I let loose a relieved laugh. I slip between the lava and the rock and admire the World. It may be destructive but it's still beautiful. Rivers of lava flow from the many volcanic mountains surrounding a small valley made up of trees and grass conserved in cocoons of the fiery liquid. Another wave of lava gushes from a nearby mountain but I don't fear it this time. Instead I run up to it to admire it for close. Red with tendrils of golden orange emit suffocating hear but I barely feel it in awe of its beauty. It brushes against my arm, my hairs burning. Without thinking, I put my hand out to touch the magma. Instead of burning my hand, the touch seems to solidify it. Slowly, the golden tendrils stop moving in the opaque red and the liquid all along stops moving. I look at my hand then back at the lava. Had I just done that? To test it out, I run towards more rivers of lava and as soon as the palm of my hand rest against them, they solidify. I'm in hysterics. How is this even possible?

I look up to the mountains pulsing out more earthen blood and back to my hands. I laugh at my absurd idea. Could I really do it?

"Why not?" I whisper to myself. Freezing all the lava in my path, I make my way to the closest mountain. It looks much bigger standing at its base. I'm about to abort mission when I see a shadow at the top. I squint and the shadow is gone. Intrigued, I place my hand on a rock and propel myself upwards. Grip, footing, propel. Grip, footing, propel. My muscles start burning and I've only reached the half way mark. A thick sheet of sweat covers every inch of my body but curiosity has always been my weak point. I saw someone up there and I'm going to find him.

The sun has set when I finally reach the top. Disappearing behind the tall towers of rocks, it leaves place not to the moon, but to darkness. Not a single star shines in the dark sky. It's a depressing sight. The only thing to guide my way is the faint glow of the lava erupting from the volcano's. Standing on the top, the World takes a whole new appearance. No longer beautiful, it looks threatening, like a world on fire. It looks desolate and sad. Why would my father ever want to create a world like this? What's the point of it?

"Why, hello there brother."

I jump and turn around, hands in fists.

"Wren?"

He grins. "You found me."

"You look terrible", I laugh.

"Please take a look at yourself before accusing others!" he says with a smile.

I wasn't lying. His clothes is torn to shreds, more skin visible than fabric. His face is layered with grim, as are his arms, legs, chest, and everything else. His hair is fuming and patches of it are missing. But he's still Wren. The same sly grin, like he's always about to pull a prank on you. The same grin that got him in more trouble than he can count on both hands and feet. My cheeks are wet but I'm not ashamed. I found my brother.

"How—"

"Ya, I think we should talk", he says, an undeterminable glint shinning in his eyes.

"We are long overdue", I say, trying to brighten the mood.

He smiles, but it has a sad undertone to it, so very unlike Wren.

"W-What's wrong?"

"It's mom. She did something to us, something that will get her and us into a lot of trouble."