From the Ashes

Excerpt: Dikawa had a major problem, when he got mad, he exploded he had a terrible temper. He always fought with the other (Reads: unavailable)

 

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Short Story – From the Ashes
Photo credit: earl53 from morguefile.com

Death isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes death can bring great achievements. For some people, death is the most glorious and honorable events in their lives. Just like the great uncle Dikawa. His death changed the course of history and changed the beliefs of many of his people. I’m getting ahead of myself here, let’s start at the beginning.

One day many, many moons ago the chiefs brother, Dikawa, was wondering alone on the sandy bank of a small and quiet river. The earth was dry and food was very scarce.  Kicking stones around his self, he silently cursed to himself. Dikawa had a major problem, when he got mad, he exploded he had a terrible temper. He always fought with the other tribe members but this time he was stupid enough to pick a fight with his nephew, the chief’s son, so he was exiled.

Walking around in circles, going faster and faster until he got dizzy and fell down, tears stinging his eyes. He hated himself, he hated the way he treated everyone else. As he started to wipe away his tears, he heard a familiar yet altogether different sound, drum beats. However, they didn’t belong from his tribe. He crawled off the river bank and over into the neighboring bushes. There he saw them; the most hated and feared tribe in all the lands. They travel from tribe to tribe destroying, raping and pillaging every one that had the unfortunate fate of crossing their paths. He knew he had to go warn his tribe but he knew if he moved they would hear him and chase him to his tribe.

He sat there and thought about his options; finally he quietly got up, turned and ran in the other direction toward his tribe. As he ran he kept slipping on rocks and scraping his knees. Then out of nowhere shot an arrow. He let out a cry as the arrow pierced his flesh. He knew he was dead before he hit the ground because the pain was gone, he felt lighter and oddly free. In front of him was the spirit of a beautiful maiden.

She introduced herself as mother earth. She saw into his soul and saw that he was a trouble man, and that deep, deep inside he had a lot of goodness. She asked him where he was going when he died and he told her. Seeing his face while he told the story of how he wanted to warn his people from their impending doom. She also saw all of the bad things he had done and knew she must punish him. She put him in the sky to look over his people. It hurt knowing that all he could do is watch while his tribe and his family were slaughtered. As he watched it happen he started to cry and yell, his tears fell to the earth in a steady shower and his yells thundered through the valley his anger penetrated the clouds and struck the murderers and set fire to the land.

From his tears and through his unbearable pain new plants rose from the earth, lakes grew bigger to hold more fish and through his suffering a new kind of people arose from out under his tears. Animals of all shapes and sizes were formed from the ashes of the old world. Water and food were plentiful; it was a perfect place, a paradise. He saw what he had done, and although he failed to save his family or himself, he was glad he made life better for others.

About the Author

Austin Ginter

im from Laona, WI and I have been writing for 2 years

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