[From the world of 'And the Mountains will Kneel'.]
The Fire is corruption, venom that creeps into the soul and leaves sickness in its wake.
For an orphan like Chan, that was never one of his concerns. He had all he needed to be content; a house, food, and you, his little sister whom he raised himself.
Life was simple, as were the Spiriter's dreams. He wanted to become an Elite, like his cousins were, and earn a reputable position in his tribe to be able to send you to school. To him, that was the one and only purpose. To give you a happy life.
At the age of nineteen, he finally earned his Elite robes and sent you off to your first day of school. You were only ten, much older than the rest of your peers but just as keen.
Looking back at it, Chan would've never sent you to school because that was when things went downhill. Fast.
Changbin was the name, a rogue Spiriter he caught once speaking to you. He was infamous for messing with the Fire, learning to tame it himself, and going against the Elders' teachings. A huge burn covered his right forearm as a reminder of his past experiments. Rumors had it that he'd given part of himself to the Fire, although Chan knew better than to believe that.
Changbin said that he was looking for him, and with a hushed whisper, he shoved a staff into his arms. "Hide it," he'd said, "Hide it where no one can find it. Don't ever hand it to the Elders. Don't let anyone find it. I can only trust you."
"Why?" Chan had asked then, taking the stranger before him for crazy. Changbin's eyes seemed to glow red. "The Fire chose you, Bang Chan."
Thinking nothing of his words, Chan tossed the staff somewhere in his home when he came back and let it be.
The next day, Changbin's body was found lifeless in a river.
Days went by before the first incident happened. Chan was filling in his journal when you came to him, waving Changbin's staff carelessly. "Channie! What's this?"
"Put it down, y/n." He answered with a mere glance, but you ignored him. "This is like a Rainmaker's staff! I can pretend to be a Rainmaker!"
Nothing should've happened when you hit the ground with the staff and announced dramatically, "Make it rain!" But instead, a scream left your lips at the Fire that bloomed before you. Red. Blood red.
Chan dropped his journal, rushing to where you stood and murmuring chants to put off the little Fire before it spread and devoured your home. However, his chants seemed to have no effect on the growing monster.
Fear began clawing at his neck as his chants became urgent pleas, the Fire deaf to them all. It seemed to cackle at the two of you mockingly, the noise blending with Chan's voice and your cries. It was to no avail. The Fire kept rising.
Panicked, Chan grabbed the staff from your hands. "What did you do?!"
"I don't know l-I only hit the ground with it!"
And Chan did just that. He slammed the staff down, yelling desperately, "Stop!"
In a blink, it all died out. The Fire disappeared as if sucked back into the ground, and your house was left with burn marks and soot. Chan felt a strange wave of heat surge through his body.
He'd later come to learn that no, the Fire went into him instead.
The Fire was corruption, perhaps that was the odd sensation dancing at Chan's fingertips. He felt an irresistible pull toward Changbin's staff, something repeating in his head like a mantra. He wanted to hold it. No, he needed to hold it.
And so it began, days of experimenting with the staff, kindling fires, and helplessly trying to put them out. He hid this new interest from the rest of his tribe, including you, knowing that he would only face disapproval and scorn.
Chan soon began to understand why Changbin became obsessed with the Fire. It was intoxicating, alluring, and powerful. He was almost angry at the Elders for keeping away such power.
Years made him a master of Fire. He learned all its secrets, and it kept his. It was as if he had, quite literally, given part of himself to the mysterious flames. He felt the thrum of the Fire like a second heart in his ribcage, wild and raging.
Then the Storm of a Thousand Clouds darkened the sky. He was walking back home with you babbling about what you learned in school when the ground beneath the two of you cracked. As if the earth was yawning, it made you lose Chan's grip and fall into the gaping hole, barely holding unto the cliff edge.
Rain that made his vision white started to pour, and he found himself once more helpless. His spells were of no match to the strength of the storm and he knew it was the Rainmakers. The Guardians of Light were not enough to maintain peace between the three tribes, and a feud that ran old and deep was hard to erase.
"Chan! Help me!" You'd cried. Your fingers were slipping and the most you could do with your limited knowledge was enchant the rocky ground to become firmer. "Please!"
But just like you, Chan knew nothing to help. So, he shouted into the rain, "Help us please!"
"Someone, anyone?" It seemed as though he was alone. "My sister is falling! Please!"
Just then, the Spiriter defense became evident, a spine-chilling chant that seemed to be sung by the wind. The clouds started retreating and the earth rumbled, groaning as it moved to heal itself. He would've been glad, but the retaliation meant that the ground was closing in on itself. Closing in on you.
He blinked the water away, yelling when he noticed Spiriters near him, "Stop! Stop! My sister is stuck!"
No one regarded him, so he shuffled closer to the edge, holding a hand out for you while trying and failing to stop the spell. "Hold on!"
But his single chant was nothing compared to the chants of the entire tribe, and the enchantment was working too quickly for his meager efforts.
"No, please, stop!" He pleaded when the ground clasped around your feet and you screamed. He tried to pull you up, but it was of no use. He was too slow.
He watched, in scarring horror, as your screams were muffled by the ground closing up seamlessly over you. All that was left was your hand, which Chan grasped tightly before letting go with a shaky breath. "No..."
Your fingers twitched then went completely still, just like Chan's heart.
"No!" He screamed, throat coarse despite the water dripping from his fingers. He was trembling, not from the cold, and the tears that gushed from his eyes fell to the ground with a sizzle. Hot, like the wild Fire inside him.
Ever since that day, he saw the world in red. The Fire was thirsty for blood, and he was hungry for revenge on the Rainmakers, the Spiriters, and everyone who took you away from him.
The Fire is corruption, greed, and madness, and Chan welcomed it all.
He was the Fire.
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