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Fortitude

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The palm of my hand lightly caresses the russet, leather cover. I can feel the age of the book with the tips of my fingers. The pages in-between the binding yearn for me to read them. My fingers yearn to bid the request. My hand trembles over the book in uncertainty.

I'm being pulled apart by two desires, one to respect my father's last wishes. Then the desire for the knowledge hidden on the pages of the forbidden book. They both have a strong hold on me, and I'm waiting to be pulled apart.

Come to me, the pages called. Read my words.

Then there's silence as my mind returns to the past.

Lynnie, you must never open your grandfather's journal. You promise me? I remember the words he spoke with his last, dying breath.

I promise. I promised never to let myself know of the words my grandfather wrote.

I remember the way my frail father smiled at me when I promised him, the relief that flooded his face.

Let me teach you what you could never know. The whispers broke through the silence of the flashback.

The tempting, sweet words broke through me.

The words have pulled me in, and they've won the battle of desires. My fingers swiftly open the cover and as soon as I did I enter a void.

I'm suddenly unaware of my surroundings and a rush of energy hits me, entering into my chest. The mass of energy slams me back against the wall, and I slump to the floor.

Immediately I'm filled with an unfamiliar presence. Almost as if there is another being within me, a being that was being awakened inside of me.

An intense heat rises in me, speedily rushing up my arms. The skin on my arms is fading to a sickly white color, and is aflame with a painless invisible fire. Gradually, my skin becomes more and more translucent just as the temperature within me rises.

I open my mouth for air, but instead of air its fire. Flames shoot through my wind pipe, eating up any air left within me. And I feel it eating away at my life as well. Now only heat occupies my lungs and sends more fire through my body.

That's when the being erupts.

It rips me open from the inside out, bringing all the pain with it, excruciating pain that is impossible to ignore. The pain rings through my veins, with it caring the inferno into my heart. All the warmth is compresses into my heart, and when all the heat is there the pain vanishes. Once the pain secedes my head is clearer, but at the same time so much more crowded and energetic.

The room doesn't seem as cold as it had earlier. Everything seems to be giving of energy, giving off heat. The heat is clashing together angrily and everything is moving at once. Heat dances around me in patterns, and I close my eyes and hope it'll go away.

But my eyes are all ready closed, so timidly I open them. I'm sitting on the floor of the study. The room is the same as it was when I had entered. Out of the corner of my I can see the journal on top of the table.


Hesitantly I get back onto my feet, anticipating another blow. But the book seems to be done with torturing me, so I head over to the table it sits on.


I walk over and look down at the first page its open to. Only one sentence is found on that page, as soon as I read it I feel a chill run up my spine.


I'm fire; it's nice to meet you.



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