Distant

I woke up to the crackling of the fire and the distant sound of waves, moonlight shining through the shack's window. There was another sound, the sound of soft breathing. Ember was asleep next to me. I stroked her fiery orange hair, the hair we both shared.
Was the color of our hair the inspiration for our names? I wouldn't know.

I looked towards the fireplace, towards the phenomenon we were named after. Fire. I extended my hand towards the raging flame. When it got too close, I felt the burning on my fingertips.

After all...

Rubbing my eyes and yawning, I took a moment to look around the interior of the shack. It was nothing new, a sight I'd seen thousands of times already. The fireplace. The table. The floor me and Ember are sleeping on. The armchair the old man is asleep in.

Wait. That last observation was incorrect. The armchair stood empty in the corner, dimly lit by the fire.
Where's he wandered off to this late? I wondered.

I got up, stretching my arms and yawning again, my joints popping as I did so.
Damn old man, hope he's not fallen into the ocean or something.

I opened the door and felt the night breeze on my face. It felt strangely liberating. Like I could let go of everything during night time, when everyone is asleep, and there would be no witnesses... Well, except the moon.
I looked up at it as soon as I had this thought.

The moon, a witness to everything in the darkness, just watching without butting in or interfering. Just observing.

How cruel.

As I walked out of the shack, I saw the old man, standing a few feet down the hill, just staring at the ocean. Not moving, not talking, probably not even thinking, just staring at the waves.

Even though he was barely a few feet away, he looked so... Distant.

Me and Ember first met the old man all those years ago, at a time in our lives I try my best to forget. But before I detail on the start of our journey with him, I must start at the beginning. Where it all started, the events leading up to our life here at the island.

Life at The Colony

Raindrops dropped down from the giant hole on the ceiling as I tried to sleep.  It was only a slight drizzle, but it was enough to keep me awake. The putrid smell of shit and piss permeated the colony, despite the hole bringing in fresh air. This smell would never go away, no matter how many holes were opened. The smell of my Rean ancestry.

Ever since the new king had ascended the throne, prior to which we worked as slaves and laborers to the Crowne race, and declared the extinction of the Rean race, we were forced to live out our lives in these colonies, basically delaying our ultimate fate, death.

I was in a giant underground room, surrounded by walls of stone. There were around a hundred people sleeping around me, all sandwiched close together to preserve body heat. No one complained, because everyone was used to the smell at this point. This smell and this life. A life of discomfort, a life of fear.

There are many things to be afraid of when you're living in a colony. One of them was the leader. The leader was the head of the colony, the person who founded it. To live at a colony, you'd have to satiate the leader's demands, whether it be offering money, services or pleasure. You'd also have to be wary of harvesters, who cut you up and harvest your organs to sell them all over the course of a night. There were thieves, rapists, pedophiles and all sorts of criminals living down here. But it was the only place we could live. Since the only other option for us was execution.

This colony was far tamer than others from what I've heard. I've heard of colonies far worse where unspeakable things happen to infants and children. Thankfully that didn't happen when me and Ember were born.

I looked up at the hole in the ceiling, the sky beyond it. I imagined myself floating up that hole, and towards freedom. To a world where nobody would try to molest me or harvest my organs. A world where nobody would execute me if I was caught. A free world.

A world where I wasn't hunted down and killed for my Rean ancestry, where there wasn't a superior Crowne race. What if there wasn't any race, for that matter? That would be true freedom.

I closed my eyes and woke up to a new day.