{I A M N O O N E} •A Fictional Story•

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I am the the fire at the heart of the gem. I am the small one with fire in my eyes. I am fire in the night, warmth in the cold. I am Spark. I am no one.

~•1: Do my steal my idea. that would be very sad. Never mind the fact I would find you and bring you down.
~•2: Please don't comment here. That would mess up the flow of the story. If you put a little thought into it, please pm me your comments/kind criticism and I will gladly post it right here at the beginning.
~•3: Please don't bash my story. You're not hulk. No bashing.
~•4: Enjoy!

This idea had been floating in my mind for a little while. I've tried different stories, but none really clicked. I think this one does.

In Chapter One, Spark mentions some odd world names and you might be wondering how to pronounce them. Wonder no more!
Karacka - ka-ra-ka
Nelliwawa - nelly-wawa
Oddiensetta - odd-ee-en-set-a

Found a picture of what Spark sorta looks like. Red hair, green eyes:

Hi. My name is Spark. This story is about me and a few other people, but I don't want to ruin it. A little about me:
Name: Spark No One
Age: 15
DOB: August 12
Single? At the time of this writing, yes.
Other: oh yeah, there's this thing...I can control fire.

In Chapter Three, Spark discovers a glowing red orb. What is it?

In chapter five we were introduced to the first other human, Elder Mirocreozeus, or Miro for short. (Say: My-row-Cree-o-Zeus)
We were also introduced to some new words:
Lancat (LAN-cat)-An Ancient leader of city society, looked up to for his revolutionary thinking.
Narking Narcici- used like "Good God!" Narcici was a wandering preacher who spoke peace and fraternity.

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I love it. Chapters are kind of short, but it's strill awesome. C:
Definitely will be stalking this.

^^Thank you!!! A stalker!!! Woo-hoo!!!

{{You really do have a good idea going on here, maybe a little common with the idea of elements in play, but it is still a good idea nonetheless. I would just say that you need to work on creating longer chapters by expanding on the senses and character thoughts. If you do go back and add onto chapters, make sure that you separate paragraphs and not make it one long block of text. And, you should probably not italicize your writing because that needs to be left open for character thought and stress on words. And, I do apologize if I was too blunt, but 1st person isn't my favorite form of writing in the world.

^^No problem Zuchi! Your criticism was kind, concise, very well thought out and much appreciated! (There's lots that I couldn't include that was very helpful!)

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Chapters Prologue-5 = Page 1

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I am the fire at the heart of gems....

My name is Spark. You probably don't know me. I'm supposed to save the world.

"What world?" You ask. Good question. There's Karacka, Nelliwawa, my own world of Oddiensetta and many more.
I have to save them all. How am I, a poor, uneducated fifteen year old supposed to do that? All I have is...but let's not go into that now. Anyway, you're probably wondering how all this got started. It must've been maybe three weeks ago...Gosh, was it only three weeks? Yes, I think it was....

It wasn't my fault. It never is, is it? All I was doing was exploring the Northern Caves. Nothing wrong with that-if you disregard the fact it's illegal. (Let's say I live on the edge.) When it all started, I was deep into the section at the Eastern end of The Caves, a section I'd never been to before. I was crawling through a tunnel so low, I could barely lift my head. It was dark, suffocatingly dark, and all I had was the sparks on my fingers to guide me. Sharp rocks grabbed at my hair and clothes, cutting my arms and pulling at my legs as I dragged myself forward. I fought for every inch. The air was stale and breath was short. Somewhere, water dripped. The ceiling lowered. I could hardly force myself over the impaling rocks. And then...nothing. Space.

Soaring space above me, solid, smooth rock beneath me. I look up. Massive columns rise into the shadows where I think they connected with a massive vaulted ceiling. It wasn't natural...but, it wasn't chiseled out by man either. I run my cut-up hand over the smooth wall. The stone radiated heat. Heat? I placed both hands on the rock. Yes. The rock gave heat.

Here I should probably stop.
You, my intelligent and observing reader,
have probably noticed, that I, Spark No One, am a
Fire-Holder.

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hi. I messed up, and can't delete this space, so meh.

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The rock was giving off heat. How is this possible in a dark room, deep underground? Simple. It wasn't. I turned to survey the rest of the room, or what I could see of it at least. A small shadow among shadows stood in the center of the room. I carefully walked towards it. What I can only describe as an alter rose out of the bedrock, seamless, flawless. It had two wide, shallow steps up to it in all directions. The altar was shaped like a campfire, the teepee of sticks all laid out, ready to light and enjoy. It came about waist high, and at the very top of the sticks, they all wove together to make a small bowl. Stone sticks weaving to make a bowl. The hollow was the size of two cupped hands, and I shuddered to think what it's use was.

Then I touched it. It was searing hot, a fact I registered without pain. (Part of the whole fire-holder thing.) Then I noticed it. A soft, pulsing glow in the far corner of the cave, almost swallowed by the darkness. Something inside me lept. I ran to the corner and fell to my knees in front of the source of the glow, a red orb. It looked almost alive, the center spinning and flashing. I didn't know what it was. How could I have guessed? After all, I didn't spend very many moments with the orb in my hands before the roof started caving in.

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First it was just a rumble. Then some pebbles falling from the ceiling far above. And then...I stopped listing what was happening because I was running for my life. I stuck the orb in a bag I always carried and ran for the tunnel. No good. It was caved in just a few feet from the entrance. So I ran along the wall, searching for another exit. I ran all the way around the room, and by this time, huge chunks of rock were hurtling down from the ceiling. Thunder rolled in the mountain. Rock dust floated up from the cracked floor. The air was hot and musty and hard to breathe. A coughing fit overtook me as my eyes started watering. I stood still for a moment to catch my breath. A rock the size of the alter clipped me on the shoulder.

My left arm fell, limp and useless. Tears started to my eyes. A shaft of sunlight hit the alter. I blinked in the sudden brightness. Wait, sunlight? I scrambled to my feet and lurched across the cave. The wall was crumbling! The side of the mountain was just a few feet away! I grabbed onto the edge with my right hand. Rocks rained down around me. I forced my left arm up. A scream ripped through my body. Kicking and thrashing, my feet scrabbled on the wall. Traction. I just needed some traction. My right hand was slipping, and I knew with a deadly certainty my left arm would not be able to hold me. Tears ran down my grimy face, leaving tracks of clear skin. I looked up, almost able to see the vaulted ceiling. The top of a column was just above me. I watched, detached from the pain and the slipping fingers, as huge cracks lightninged their way to the column top. A thunderous crack resounded as it broke free. My fingers slipped.

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A wrinkled, weathered hand grips my wrist just as I let go. The column piece starts to fall. A huff and a jerk, and Elder Mirocreozeus drags me far enough up I can grab a rock. A crash sounds from the rock above. I have seconds at best. Miro wraps his arms around my waist and heaves, surprisingly Strong for such an old man. The soles of my shoes get ripped off by the hurtling stone. Bind and shaky, i blink in the warm sun. Blood fills my mouth. I must've bit my tongue. Spitting, turn around to face Miro, then unceremoniously tumble to the dusty ground.

"Child," he says sternly, "what in Lancat's name were you doing in there?" The orb I had risked my life for rolls out of my pouch and bounces down a rock to rest at Miro's feet. "Narking Narcici." He murmurs, bending down to look at it. "You found it...you actually found it...." He quickly ordered me to put it back in my pouch, and hurried me down the mountainside. I stumbled along, confused and hurting, behind him. He brings me around the back of his house and through the door. I fall on the stairs. Miro's face softened. "You've been through a lot, and I'm afraid you'll have to go through more. Come, child." He helped me inside and set me on a wobbly stool as he puttered around getting tea. A warm fire crackles cheerily in the hearth. Herbs and dried plants hang from the ceiling. Transfused with warmth and lavender, the air is calming and easy. Books and paper lie in various states of disarray on every surface.

I clutched the orb as it sent out its comforting, pulsing crimson light. I now know I was in shock, but then all I knew was I had nearly died. My brain kept replaying that moment my fingers slipped and I knew for sure I was going to die. Yet there I was, holding a cuppa in one hand and the orb in the other. "You probably have many questions," Miro said. "I'll try and head one or two off. You stumbled on the deepest, darkest secret of The Groundlings. That," he pointed at the orb, "is the Essence of Fire."

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I look down dumbly at the pulsating orb in my hands. It flashed and burned. I returned my gaze to Miro. "The Essence of Fire." I repeat. He nods. "There is an essence for every element, Fire, Wind/Air, Ground/Earth and Water. Only a controller-each element has it's own name-can touch them. All the elements are at war. They each want to destroy or control the others Essences. But Essences are very difficult to destroy. Kill the Essence, and all trace of that element vanishes." I look at him. "What are the names?" I ask, needing something insignificant to focus on in the face of so much. My thoughts tangle around each other in such a gordian knot I can't pull any one free without a whole bunch of others smothering me.

He nods and smiles, understanding. "Fire-Holders, Risings, Groundlings, and Streaks. There used to be a massive war between the elements. All the controllers died. Except one for each element." He stabbed a finger at my chest, "you are the last fire-holder."

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I look at him. "Well, I'm guessing I don't get to just sit here with the Essence, huh." He smiles at me kindly. "No, child. There is a dragon. His name is Sark. He is a rare space element dragon." I stop him. "Woah woah woah. Space element. I thought there were only four." He clears his throat. "All the space element controllers were wiped out long ago. We didn't even know Sark existed until a few months past. He started terrorizing small towns and villages. He's now working his way to the city of Tenty-Sawnar." I nod. "Why doesn't the king just ralley his army and attack Sark?" Miro chokes.
"Sark could wipe out FIVE armies! He's huge, so big, the Great Hall in the palace couldn't hold him." I groan. "He MUST be defeatable though! How? Tell me!" Miro sighs and coughs. "All four elements must join together with their Essences, and find The Bond."
"Great. What's this 'Bond,' now?"
"No one knows. The Bond will only appear when all four Essences join together with their controller in the hour of greatest need."
I slump back. "How am I ever going to find the others?" I query with despair. Miro reaches into his robe and pulls out a map. "This will lead your way."
As I take hold of it, flames lick the edge and five small dots appear in the corners. Some are moving. I take a guess.
"The brown dot near the Mountains of Ehndelhnor is the Groundling."
Miro nods and gestures for me to continue.
"The white one on the Plains of Nazdhal is the Rising, blue on an island in the landlocked Sea Ynak is the Stream and I," here my finger stabs itself at a glowing red point near the Caves, "am this one. That leaves the swirling black dot as Sark."
Miro claps his leathery hands.
"Well done child! But now you must leave. The time of Sark's full power grows near. He must be defeated by the celebration of Celeste, in eight days."