Sparks of an Inferno

“I can’t believe you two have been together for a month,” Father Prosbin said as he entered Ralis’ home and set his collections basket at the edge of Ralis’ table.

“Why do you say that?” Ralis asked, watching Maki make the last few stitches in the colorful scarf she’d created over the past few days.

“Done!” she said, tossing the scarf suddenly to Ralis.

It fell on his head in a bunch, drooping over his eyes. He untangled it from himself and looked over it as Maki jumped from her seat and ran to the other room, her brown hair flowing behind her as if the wind itself carried it. “Do you want any juice, Father?” she called.

“Juice?” Prosbin asked Ralis in a low tone. “What type?”

Ralis shrugged, too focus on the scarf. There were a few spots that needed to be pulled taught. “Grape? I honestly have no clue. I let her pick something out when we go to the market, a little treat. She thinks of it as a prize.”

“Is that so?” Prosbin asked. “Your worries have passed then?”

“FATHER PROSBIN!” Maki shouted.

Prosbin jumped, causing his glasses to fall lopsidedly on his face. “You better answer her,” Ralis snickered. “She did just offer you something she won’t even share with me. I hope you feel honored.”

Prosbin corrected his lenses and stood up, “Yes, sorry,” he said. “Maki,” he called. “I’d love some juice.”

“Yay!” Maki cheered from the kitchen.

Ralis heard the fridge open then winced as, a moment later, he heard the tumble of dishes from one of the cabinets. “Good thing I replaced those with plastic,” he mumbled.

“So,” Prosbin said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Ralis looked up at the man, he was carefully folding the items Ralis and Maki had knitted for him and placing them in his basket. However, he didn’t answer.

Prosbin sighed as he briefly admired a colorful pair of socks—made by Maki— and folded it. “Thank you, Ralis. I’m sure this is going to help a lot; a lot of these Revived have come back with nothing.”

“Didn’t that one Named man send you some money?” Ralis asked, remembering something Prosbin had mentioned the other day.

“He did,” Prosbin said, “but it’s not enough. There are thousands of Revived out there, Ralis. I doubt the government knows how many there are exactly, but whatever their guess, it’s low. And after the snow this morning…”

At that moment Maki rushed into the room, holding two glasses with juice. One was full while the other was filled about halfway. She looked closely at the two glasses, then handed the one with less to Prosbin, “This is yours,” she said, then rushed to the couch, plopping down carelessly, then proceeded to drink the entire glass in one continuous gulp.

“Are you done yet?” she asked Father Prosbin who had yet to touch his lips to the glass.

“I’m getting there,” he smiled, taking a sip. “Not grape,” he whispered to Ralis.

Maki watched until Prosbin was finished, then hastily took his cup and skipped back to the kitchen.

As she did, Ralis thought of Prosbin’s question. Just earlier in the market that day, he’d seen at least two people he’d known to have been dead and saw a few embracing old friends as well. “It’s a good thing,” he said.

“What?” Prosbin replied, visibly confused.

“The Revived. It's good people are coming back. People seem cheerier, even if conditions down here have gotten a bit worse.”

“I can’t complain,” Prosbin replied. “I thought I’d leave this world without seeing many people again, but God’s gift is well… miraculous.”

“I just wish everyone thought that way,” Ralis continued. “I’m sure you’ve seen them though, the untrusting ones.”

“Of course, I have,” Prosbin frowned. “They come to my chapel every day and demand that I stop supporting the Revived, and though I hate to admit it, they tend to be unsavory characters, people whose lives were negatively impacted by the Return. Lots of past sins being brought into the light, I’ll tell you that much, the Revived are exposing pasts that some people would rather stay hidden.”

Ralis nodded, finishing up Maki’s scarf. As he did, Maki marched into the room, wearing a pair of earmuffs, a heavy coat, long pants, and mitts. “I’m going outside,” she announced, continuing her wobbling march towards the door.

As she reached for her shoes, she tipped too far and crashed face-first to the floor. Ralis rushed over as she rolled onto her back. “Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down.

She rolled slightly to the side, then started to sit up. She was too bundled, however, and, despite her flailing, fell back to the floor. She looked at her jacket and frowned.

“Are you stuck?” Ralis asked, trying not to smile.

“I’m not stuck,” Maki replied, flailing about once more.

Ralis couldn’t help it and burst into laughter. “Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet despite numerous protests, “I’ll help you with your shoes, then we’ll make a snowman.”

“A snowman,” Maki repeated, “What’s that?”

Ralis smiled to himself as he slipped Maki’s feet into her shoes. “You’ll see,” he said.

***

President Clay stepped away from the podium with a polite nod and wave to the applauding audience. The previous night, after their drinks, John had drunkenly announced a press conference that was to be about the Revived.

Hastily, he and Mire had come up with a plan that promised to include the Revived in the up-and-coming Charter, but that was as far as they’d gotten. John was sure that Mire was working on an actual plan right now, but John still felt like a fool.

As he stepped off stage, Edwin fell in step behind him. “Sounds like you had a change of heart,” the man said, offering him a cigarette.

John declined. He would have liked it to warm him, but his doctors said smoking after a night of drinking would do more harm than good— he was pretty sure his wife had told them to say that though, she wanted him to quit both habits.

The Conference had been held at the normal spot, a stage behind the Capitol building, just a hundred or so paces from the lake and temple that sat there. As John continued towards the building, Edwin kept pace, the press trying to follow close behind. “I really suggest you take this one,” Edwin said, offering the cigarette again.

John peered at the item Edwin was offering and found it was not a cigarette but a small, rolled, piece of paper. He took it and stuffed it in his suit jacket. “I’ll have it later, I suppose. Doctor’s orders, you know.”

“Of course,” Edwin said. “Make sure to have it with a glass of red wine.”

John nearly tripped as he processed the message. He, Edwin, and a few select others in the government’s inner circle had a code related to a wine’s color to be used when the security needed to be tight. And red? Red meant war was coming.

***

Izumi sat alone at her empty desk in the compact room she called home. It wasn’t much but it had most of the necessities— lights, a bed, a washroom— it didn’t matter though. If she needed anything, the MPs would give it to her. She was in a good place, at least, she thought she was.

She didn’t have to worry about paying for the space. Food was free. She got paid, had a good job. See sis? She thought, looking at the framed photo in her hands, We made it.

A knock at the door startled her. She set the photo down on the desk, wiped her eyes, and stood up. The knock came again, louder this time. “I’m coming,” she shouted, “Calm down.”

She yanked the door open, a bit annoyed at the timing of whomever it was, and set her hands on her hips. “What?” she asked the timid boy standing there. She was actually taller than him, to her surprise.

“I, um,” the boy said before looking away and thrusting a manila-colored envelope toward her.

Izumi raised an eyebrow and looked down at herself, realizing she was only wearing her tank-top and uniform pants, which were held up loosely by her jacket which was tied around her waist. She rolled her eyes and snatched the envelope from the boy’s hands.

“Get over it,” she muttered as she watched the boy retreat back down the hall towards the men’s quarters.

“Oh,” he called, just as Izumi was about to step back inside. “They said it was important. Read it right away!”

“They always say it’s important,” she called back before stepping back inside.

She closed the door, tossed the envelope on her desk, then plopped down on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Probably just another mission, she thought. Sure have a lot of them lately.

She set her hands behind her head, supporting her neck as she sunk into thought again. Asuna would hate this place, she thought. Always running errands, just like a dog.

“Though I guess that’s not that different from what you used to do,” she whispered, looking at her desk.

She sighed to herself and jumped to her feet, unwrapping her jacket from her waist and putting it on. She zipped it up and grabbed the envelope, ripping it open. She looked inside and found what she expected, a small metal plate the size of her palm.

She set down the bag, moved to her closet, grabbed her belt, and tied it around her waist. Next, she grabbed her gun, made sure the bio-lock was secure. And secured it magnetically to a plate on her belt. Next came the metal band for her arm which showed her authority as an officer among several other functions, including a control interface for her armor.

Once she’d done this, she returned to her desk and slid the metal plate from the envelope, and touched it lightly to her wristband. As she did, her door locked, and the steel security plates slid across her windows. “That hasn’t happened before,” she whispered to herself.

The lights shut off suddenly, plunging the room into darkness as the walls came to life, projecting 3-D images into her room. She saw an abandoned car, covered in snow, as well as an explicitly brutalized corpse. She felt bile rising in her throat as the image faded to white.

Another figure appeared, projected on the plain background. Her commander, Commander Erwin. Izumi shot into a salute immediately, forgetting that the message was prerecorded. Edwin must have anticipated this because his image said “At ease.”

Izumi relaxed a bit but was still shocked. Commander Erwin was the top man. She technically held the rank of major so this wasn’t too crazy, but still, what did he want from her?

“Major Izumi,” the image said. “In recognition of your achievements in our peacekeeping force so far, you have been recommended to me for this special assignment. Twenty-five minutes ago, my men in the Lower District sent me the photo you just saw.”

Why do you have men there? She frowned.

“The corpse you saw was a Named man Gale Glyies. Before you get any ideas, my men were assigned to observe him on suspicion of murder, kidnapping, abuse, and many other crimes. We were actually scheduled to move against him tomorrow at the Charter meeting, but someone seems to have gotten there before us.

But that isn’t what concerns me most. My men also sent me one more image, one that I believe might have lost them their lives as they lost contact moments after getting this photo to me.”

The room changed again to show a new image. A lanky, slender man followed by a taller, more muscular man, entering a building where a few silhouettes could be seen. The picture zoomed in to focus on the taller man and Izumi gasped as she recognized the blonde hair, the blue eyes, and the murderous grin on his face. The man had, in part, inspired her to join the MPs- Tez Rylie. “Impossible,” she whispered.

“If this man is really Tez Rylie Revived, then our city is going to have a war on its hands,” the Commander’s voice as the picture faded to white. “Major. Your mission is to find Rylie and destroy him. You will be supported by your current squadron. A release for special operations gear has been granted for you and the location of this warehouse, one of Glyies’, has been sent to your device. Good luck.”

The lights in the room burst back to normal and the room released itself from lockdown. Izumi clenched her fists and started toward the common area, where she was certain she would find her soldiers.

She entered the room and looked around. Watson and James were in one corner watching television. Yeman and Pari, the twins, were talking to Fin and Arthur in another corner. She approached the group of four first.

Fin jumped to his feet as she approached. “What’s up, Major?”

She frowned. “Seriously? Call me Izumi.”

“No can do, Major?” Fin smiled slyly.

“Whatever,” Izumi said, holding out the plate towards them. “We have another mission.”

Pari stood, brushing her black bangs from her eyes. “Priority?”

“Alpha, at least.”

Izumi watched her face pale and nodded. “Hope you’re ready, we’ve got permission to use special gear.”

“Hell yeah,” Arthur said, jumping to his feet. “Why didn’t you just lead with that. I’ll get those bums,” he said, gesturing to Watson and James.

He stepped as if to pass her, but Izumi stopped him. “I know you’re just acting, Arthur. I’m not letting you get food poisoning again or something just to flake out of this mission.”

“Oh, come on, Major.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t report you last time,” she said, turning towards the television. “Anyway, let’s-”

She froze as she saw the image on the screen. A warehouse was burning, surrounded by a crowd of at least a hundred. Men in black tactical gear guarded the burning building, where, on a large pile of burning wood, stood a man, the very man Izumi had just been tasked to hunt down.

“Holy crap,” Arthur whispered beside her.

“Turn it up, Watson,” Izumi called.

The woman turned as if surprised to hear her superior officer but complied.

“Humanity has failed, fallen,” Rylie was saying. “You don’t deserve to have this miracle, the Revived, among you. Two years ago, I left society, hoping that my actions might inspire change, but now, here we are: two years later, and things are still the same!”

He stepped off the pile of flames and gestured to the warehouse behind him. “God has seen your wickedness and has permitted my return that I may judge you, purge you, refine you. This warehouse behind me belonged to the late Gale Glyies, who I killed earlier this morning. A man who was Named, a man consumed by greed, a man consumed by avarice and void of empathy. A man who looked down on you, citizens of the Lower District. Like several of the Named, this man abused you and your families, tortured you, and made you feel like nothing. That’s the purpose of giving us numbers instead of names, isn’t it? Just like those of old, the Named seek to remove our humanity and leave us, you, as nothing more than animals, animals whose only purpose is to do their work.

I say no more. Unless the Named renounce their status at tomorrow’s party— yes, they’re having a party while you struggle to survive this winter— I will end everything. Watch this building behind me. Watch it burn as a symbol of this dead society and know that I will do the same to the oppressors. I will make us equal. With this purifying flame I have set ablaze here, I will cleanse this world.”