• The Elements
    Prologue


    Summer is finally here. Light shines through the skylight of the school, brightening the otherwise depressing grey floor tiles. There is only open sky in every direction, unblemished, pure and very beautiful. I have never been able to resist the sunlight. Whether it's sunrise, sunset or just mid-day rays, it always makes me feel purified and whole.

    "Angela!"

    My name rings through the air, drawing me back to reality. The voice belongs to my best friend, Tuija. She stands in the doorway, her straight black hair stirring with the breeze. She always knows where to find me when I sneak off. On the roof, staring into the sky, with my head between the clouds. I turn to face her, and for a moment, I can see my reflection in one of the windows. A slender frame, a permanent tan, and bright green eyes. All topped by shoulder length hair the colour of the setting sun, tied in a ponytail. The reflection makes it look like my hair is sunlight, blending with the rays of light perfectly.

    "We were going to head to the mall. End of school shopping spree. You in?" she asks, her smile broad. Excitement sparkles in her eyes at the thought of a shopping spree. She always has been a shopaholic. I already know who else is coming. Ursula, Ronelle and Scott. The five of us have been friends since we were kids. We do everything together.

    "Sure, what the Hell, right? We need something to commemorate the end of school."

    Downstairs, we meet up with the others. Ronelle, tallest of us all, has her nose in a book as usual. Her blonde hair falls to her chin, wavy and golden. Her striking blue eyes dart across the page, her intellect never letting her slow down in the pursuit of more knowledge. The book is one of Kant's, philosophy being her big thing. Personally, it makes my head hurt. Ursula lays back on the grassy hillside, watching something. A glance skywards and I see what interests her so much. Scott. He floats among the clouds, listening to music and dancing as if nobody is watching. His denim jacket and khakis hold his mp3 player and sketchpads, his creative outlets when the world gives him a break.

    Scott is the world's only superhero. He was gifted with flight and some sort of unearthly fire he usually brandishes as pitchforks. The pitchfork shaped scar on his forehead glows whenever someone needs his help. He goes by the name the Devil, saving lives and helping people whenever he gets 'called'. A wave catches his attention and he drifts down, floating a few inches above the ground as always, and we start our trek to the mall.

    "So how did the first date go, Ursula?" Tuija asks, nonchalantly. I was wondering who would be the first to ask. Ursula has been attracted to Chris for almost a year and we've been hassling her to ask him out for almost as long. She finally gave in and did it, receiving a positive answer and almost fainting. She's blushing right now and trying to hide it. Long curly brown hair doesn't even begin to hide her uncomfortableness at being put on the spot. Tuija's eyes are giddy with expectation, her smile intoxicating. "Come on, spill it."

    "Well...it went well."

    Short and sweet, just like Ursula. She never has been prone to elaboration. Tuija's already pressing her for more details, and Ursula is giving them up, albeit grudgingly.

    "We went out for dinner. We saw a movie. And he walked me home. A perfect gentleman."

    Tuija is hardly impressed with the answer, but Ursula refuses to say more. She treasures every memory she has, keeping it forever preserved in her mind. I envy her ability to stay above everything, to be at once involved but also able to stay untainted by events. My emotions always get the best of me.

    A soft 'uh oh' passes Scott's lips and we all look at him. He's needed and he's trying not to crash the mood. He's also failing but we're used to his sudden need to depart by now.

    "Guys, don't hate me. I need to--"

    "You need to go help save the day like always, Scott. We're used to it. Go. Help," Ronelle says, cutting him off. She hasn't even glanced up from her book. Wish I could walk and read so effortlessly. But she is right. Scott doesn't need to apologise every time, though that doesn't stop him from trying. He's already beginning to apologise again and we're all yelling at him to go now, before it's too late. We stand there watching him fly off into the sunset, a cool breeze flowing through us, and as Scott disappears from view, something happens.

    The world blinks. At first, I think I'm crazy. Then it happens again. It's not the light blinking off, it's the actual world, actual reality, blinking. And smiling. I start to speak, but nothing happens. I can feel my friends right next to me, and I can feel they're all frozen like me, and I can still see reality looking at me. It's like someone painted their face with the view entering my eyes. The face smiles and it looks like the grassy field on the horizon is dipping into a valley. The three dimensional image my brain registers as what I'm seeing is now a three dimensional face underneath the image. It's impossible to describe and it's really starting to creep me out. The lips move and the meaning of the words it speaks tremble through my soul, instantly understood even though it is incomprehensible. The eyes look out at me, at all of us, and see into us, into everything we ever were, everything we are and tries to see everything we ever will be. The word 'beginning' strokes my spirit and the mouth opens, white light shining through, and the mouth keeps opening further and further, rolling back the face, rolling back reality, like peeling plastic off of a perfect sphere. The light is so strong, it's blinding, lighting up my entire being, shining light on every corner of my soul. Every sense I have has disintegrated, been blown apart by this experience, shattered and scattered to every corner of reality...

    ********************

    ...Swept up, and thrown back into a shape resembling me. Minutes pass before I remember how to use my eyes. They open and I gaze out onto a sea of people. Everyone in the world must be here, yet they're all oblivious to the white void we stand in. It's as if only a representative of everyone, their souls I guess, is here, while their bodies continue on like nothing is happening. What is happening here?

    I look at my hands, the skin tingling, and my mouth falls open. What was once soft, smooth skin is now nothing but flakes of epidermal tissue, flakes and chips flowing over what appears to be a fiery core. That's right, my entire skeletal, muscular and nervous systems are apparently nothing but volcanic flame with a flimsy paper-like skin coating and containing it. Strangely, only a small part of my brain seems to find this bizarre and freakish and overwhelming. The majority of my mind seems to find this completely normal. I can't believe I'm talking like I'm two different people in the same brain. I can't even experience the wonder of whatever is happening to me because part of me finds it natural. This is getting way too strange, way too fast.

    For the first time, I become aware of the fact that this group of souls and I are not the only people here. There’s a kind of glass-like barrier preventing us from mingling and through it, I can see the others, Ursula, Ronelle and Tuija, undergoing similar experiences. Tuija seems an ocean in a skin prison, Ronelle a cyclone trapped and Ursula a clay doll. Four young women, four elements...what is happening to us? I look around for answers, but nothing presents itself. The more I look at the people present, the more I see a fire inside of them that mirrors my own, though greatly diluted. It seems like everyone who embodies the elemental...force of fire is here, like we're being...chosen for something. Nobody seems to be as in touch with the flame like I am, though I am sensing another significant presence...someone else who stands out. It takes me a few seconds to locate him, but when I do, I'm in awe.

    He can't even be 18, but there's just something about him that makes him...older...no, more mature. He has suffered through hardship and tragedy and it has forged him, like a sword. I step closer and he looks up, his blonde dreadlocks falling over fierce green eyes, and he sees me. He actually sees me. He's so far above everyone else present, so much more in tune with his core, that he can pierce this veil between us. He freezes, his eyes wide with astonishment. Which is probably understandable since a girl made of fire just appeared before him. Something about him is so intoxicating...it attracts me with intensifying anticipation. Whatever is going on here, this boy will be a part of it. He will be an integral part of this. My fingers brush his cheek and I feel like I'm floating on air. Until his shoulders burst into flames.

    Recoiling all too slowly, I know I'm responsible. Helplessly, I watch as he doubles over in pain, his eyes squeezed shut by the agony, tears rolling down his cheeks. His pain only seems to heighten the fire inside of his soul as he blacks out, mercifully unconscious. Tears well up in my eyes, roll down my cheeks and fizzle on my clothes. I scream aloud, in frustration, in pity, in agony. Nothing makes sense anymore. I just want to go back to the place before here, the place...the place I can't remember. So much of my memory is a fog, the more I try to remember, the more is denied me. And with that, the void falls out from under me.

    I fall. We all do. We can see the memories leaving us, being torn out of the gray matter of our brains, flying upwards like hurricanes. We scream. We try to grasp them, hoping that we can salvage something from the ghost-like wisps our memories have become, but to no avail. And then we hit solid ground...

    ********************

    Eyes wide. I'm awake, I'm alert. And I'm completely overreacting. It's dark. I can feel the sun spreading its warmth on the other side of the planet. Fire dances up my body to light my surroundings. Something feels off. I find myself staring at my hand in wonder. It's on fire. But not burning. Of course, being the Goddess of Fire, why should fire burn me? You think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now. I guess my imagination was just captivated by the dancing flames.

    "Guys...?"

    Ronelle. She sounds in pain. I wonder what's up. I turn and I see her clutching her temples. Tuija's already by her side, inquiring as to what's going on and Ursula is still asleep. Why did we choose a feild to sleep in? I guess we were just star watching and dozed off. A pang sparks in the front left side of my head and then is gone. Strange. With a start, Ursula's sitting up, awake and in pain, her fingers clutching her forehead.

    "Ronelle, what's going on?"

    Images and words assault my brain, too many and too varied to comprehend. I think...I think Ronelle's doing this.

    "Ronelle, is this telepathy? Are you linking our minds?" I ask, my curiousity peaked. Another wave of imagery, and it feels like I'm being swept away in a current.

    "Sorry...It's just...nnnh....I can't...I'm trying...ghhh..." is all she can manage. I think I know what's going on. Tuija and Ursula seem to have come to the same conclusion. Ronelle's telepathy is at such a high degree, she's so powerful, that the thoughts of the entire world are seeping into her. She's trying to control it, to regulate the flow, and it's flowing out, leaking into her surroundings, into our minds. We have to help her.

    Our hands meet, forming a circle around Ronelle, and we focus our thoughts. Being this close to her, we might be able to slip into her mind and help her. Precious minutes pass and Ronelle slumps to the ground, curling up into the fetal position. It's not working. She needs to let us in.

    "No...yrrh...you...guys. I cannnnnnht...can't let you in." She's barely conscious and she's trying to take this hit for all of us. Do all best freinds have to be this stubborn?

    "Ronelle...we can help. Let us in. Let us take some of the pressure off you. You're killing yourself here!" Tuija screams. We're not about to let you kill yourself, Ronelle. And grudgingly, she lets us in.

    ********************

    We closed our eyes on a freind in need. We open them on a freind near death. We're in a dark void, black as space and just as all consuming. Standing, such as we are on an astral plane, on a platform that I really want to say floats but know it does not. The platform is white, extending several feet in either direction and then spiralling into stairs that lead up to an elevated level. In the center of that level, Ronelle floats, suspended above a gaping maw of darkness, wrapped in the protective sheath of a tornado that stretches farther than the eye can see above and below her. Hundreds of...memories, I guess, it's kind of hard to see with them moving so fast, hundreds of cloud-like thoughts tear through the air, all aiming for her, precious few bouncing off the tornado shield. She can't survive much longer.

    We all rush to her, concern causing us to scream her name. With barely a thought for my own safety, I'm leaping into the funnel of the tornado, trying to snatch Ronelle out of it, to save her, but all I end up doing is being a helpless prisoner of those same thoughts. My head is throbbing, my eyes can't see straight, thoughts are bombarding me from each and every direction. Thinking is nigh impossible, but even though my senses are all screaming and blinded and burnt, I can feel Tuija and Ursula leap in after me, after us. And it's suddenly easier to think. A lot easier.

    "Ronelle, we're all here with you," we all say simultaneously. And just like that, I see what happened. With all of us helping, we're repelling the endless stream of thoughts, or at least the vast majority. The whirlwind is no longer just a whirlwind. It's a flaming cyclone of dry dust and wet clouds. With all of us helping, we've formed a bond, a connection to each other and to everyone else in the world. We are what we've always been. We are the Elements, Goddesses of fire, water, wind and earth. And now we are even more in touch with the shaping of this world. My God, do I read too many comic books.