Kaiten approached the Tinnei train station with an uneasy feeling. This was the first time he had ever left Tinnei and it would figure that his first trip out of the city would be the most important one of his life. He tightened his grip on a black briefcase that held the brown envelope of importance and adjusted his governmental badge around his neck with his free hand as he approached the platform.
“Hello there” an official train station employee said, tipping his hat. “Ticket please.” Kaiten nodded and pulled out his ticket from his pocket. The man eyed Eisen. “Nice owl” he said, “just be careful with him if you’re taking him on board. I don’t want to hear any reports of the train de-railing because an owl went crazy.”
“Trains can do that?”
“Well sure. Haven’t you heard of the train disaster that happened a few years ago? Five hundred people were all instantly killed after three trains de-railed and slammed into each other in Bikko Station. It was really quite tragic.” He smiled, unphased by the disaster he was talking about.
“No, I hadn’t heard that.”
“Oh. Well, there’s nothing to worry about. Probably.”
“That’s really reassuring” Kaiten said. He didn’t sound reassured. Eisen hooted in his sleep.
“In any case, your ticket checks out” he punched a hole in it. “Have a nice day Mr. Kaiten Ryu.”
“Uhh.. thanks. I’ll try.” And with that he boarded the long purple train (Faria picked the color, of course) and took a seat. He really hoped nothing bad would happen to him on this day.
* * *
In the center of the continent of Iwote stood Bikko, home of the grand train station connecting every other city. To the north of Bikko was a small town known as Erutoru. While the population of Erutoru only reached 12,000 it was home to the largest library in the world.
And on this cloudy day in Erutoru stood a man dressed completely in black with a large pointed straw hat that hid his face in shadows and a blue scarf that covered his neck. He stood in front of the library with a small bucket, a square bottle of kerosene and a few large sticks.
“Step right up one and all and witness the magic of the amazing KuroMa and Quaram!” he shouted at no one in particular, hoping to draw a crowd. As he did so, he struck a match and lit two of the sticks on fire and began to juggle them. Flames danced around, making large circles, and intersected rings, and soon there was a small crowd in front of him.
“Wow that’s amazing” a girl said.
As the crowd grew, so did his tricks. He lit a third stick on fire and danced as he juggled all three. Then finally, when he felt the time was right, he threw all three up into the air, grabbed the bottle and whispered “ready Quaram? It’s time!” before he took a swig of the kerosene and sprayed it through his teeth to cause a massive fireball to shoot out in front of him as he caught the sticks once more.
“Woaaaaaaaah!” the crowd was impressed. They threw coins into the small bucket.
But KuroMa noticed something was wrong. The flames weren’t going away. He had done this trick hundreds of times in dozens of small towns such as this one and each time the flames would disappear after only a few seconds. Not this time. The flames continued to grow bigger and bigger. The crowd, oblivious to the dangers, only clapped louder and cheered.
“What do I do Quaram?” he shouted, glaring at the small bottle of kerosene.
“Mommy, is that man talking to a bottle?” the girl asked. The mom only shrugged, captivated by the giant flames that were continually getting bigger.
“Put them out!?” He shouted, “how do I do that exactly?” KuroMa became panicked.
As the giant fireball grew, it began to spit out bolts of flame. One struck a viewer, setting him on fire. The crowd screamed, and began to run away as more flames shot out. Before he could even think of something to do, the grass was lit on fire, several nice bushes were on fire, several viewers were rolling on the ground on fire, and sirens were heard as both police and fire trucks were on their way.
KuroMa dropped his flame sticks, grabbed the bottle, and made a mad dash into the library.
“And to think” he said, breathing heavy, “my ancestor was actually a master of fire.” He glared at the bottle “don’t talk about him like that. He was most certainly not crazy.”
As he entered the thick double doors of the library, he had to push his way past people who had all decided to come see what was going on outside. Many had their hands covering their mouths in horror and were whispering of, gasping, and cursing KuroMa. “What if it gets inside?” a library clerk asked. “Our entire heritage could be lost forever!”
KuroMa ignored her and ran down a set of stairs, into the basement. Blindly running through asiles he finally stopped when he saw an ancient book beneath a glass case. “What’s this?” He leaned in closer to read the faded lettering. “The Life of Clom the Black Mage?” Clom, Clom, he had heard that name before but couldn’t remember where. “Well I’m sure they won’t mind if I borrow this.”
Using the bottle of kerosene he broke open the case, setting off an alarm, and stuffed the book into his long robe. “Come on Quaram, let’s find a way out of here.”
But alas, the library only had one entrance and exit: the way he had come in. And now he counted there were at least ten policemen and even more firemen. The giant fireball had been put out, as had the (now ruined) bushes and grass. The police were taking statements from everyone that saw what happened (including those inside the library) and medics were treating the people who had been hit by rogue flame blasts.
“How am I going to get out of this one?” He looked at the bottle, which did not answer him. “I should hide this book and come back later for it” he said, snapping his fingers as he glancing around for a good hiding spot. Finally he saw one: a loose tile on the baseboard. He removed it and put the book inside. With the tile back in place he sighed, looked at the bottle and nodded.
The police were entering the building. A tall man of about 6’1 was leading them. He had pitch black hair, and a lapis lazuli blue color eyes, which were narrowed in a furious expression. Upon spotting KuroMa he shouted “Halt!” Kuro froze in place and slowly raised his hands, bottle still in hand. The leader walked up to him, grabbed both his hands and put them behind his back.
“I’m detective Danshaw and you’re under arrest.”
