One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 6, page 5

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Bhanar Narak quickly fell unconscious from the pain. Bright dots of colors swirled around in his skull, pulsating in his brain, growing in intensity. Warm colors. Reds, browns, yellows, oranges.

The pain swirled away much quicker than it should have. The driveway was gone, replaced by his home. There sat his motorbike, front wheel lying on the concrete floor, tools scattered around. Faint strains of a Blood Puppy song wafted from his stereo speakers.

It was his garage at home, but something was off. The concrete floor shimmied an odd tint of orange. The posters on the walls blurred and wavered with random regularity. Objects in his peripheral vision faded to oblivion.

Bhanar spun around to find Zhíanoso, the High God of Fire, standing before him. He knew it was Zhíanoso even though he had never seen Him before. Who else would have fingers of flames flicking from His robes and such a stern yet impish smile upon His face?

“Hello,” Bhanar greeted the god, for the lack of anything better to say. How else do you address a figment of your pain-induced dream?

Zhíanoso scratched His ruddy goatee. “Good evening. Come here often?”

Bhanar looked around. His garage was gone. No ground, no air, no water, no metal, no nothing. Just fire.

“Um. . .” Bhanar’s head felt full of fluff and his legs grew weak. Were they still broken? Bhanar looked down. Yes, his legs were still broken, and yet there he stood, his feet firmly planted on solid flames. He’d never had a dream anything like this before.

“Never mind that, Bhanar.” Zhíanoso flicked His hand between them, regaining his attention. “Pay attention to the real world. What are you doing? Pointing your rifle at strangers? Threatening to murder everyone? That is hardly honorable behavior for an emperor. Respect your linage: King Furoíso, King So‘osolopo, Emperor Zéhé, and all the rest!” He shrugged. “Okay, maybe not So‘osolopo.”

“I. . .” Bhanar shook his head. If this was a dream, it was both the most otherworldly and the most real dream he’d ever had. If it wasn’t a dream, then that meant this truly was the god Zhíanoso. But that couldn’t be. Zhíanoso and the rest of those gods were made up by ancient rulers to impart morals and such on the populace. He didn’t exist.

The High God of Fire laughed, His body shimmying with flames. “Oh yes, I exist. I’m your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson, after all.”

“My what?” Bhanar frowned. Could the god could read his thoughts?

Zhíanoso grinned at Bhanar, somewhat condescendingly. Around His neck hung a large five-pointed ruby, red as a hot coal. The five points radiated out all in a circle, like petals on a flower. The jewel exuded heat. The necklace was power. The ruby was the Universe, the essence of Zhíanoso’s strength. If he had that jewel, Bhanar could do anything. He could exact his revenge on Zhíno. He could teach Pí‘oro a lesson or two. He could be the commanding emperor that everybody wanted and make everybody do exactly what he told them.

“No.” Zhíanoso lowered an eyebrow.

“What?” The god obviously could read his thoughts, but how? Bhanar tilted his head with a frown. Zhíanoso should be able to read his thoughts. He created the Universe, after all. He must be powerful.

The High God of Fire shrugged. “Yes I’m powerful. Yes, this jewel is powerful. But I’m not giving it to you.” He smirked with a little headshake, bits of fire radiating from his red-orange hair. “Maybe in a couple years. You’re not ready for it yet.”

Bhanar shook his head violently, mouth agape. “But it would solve my problems now.”

“And create a myriad of others.” He clicked His tongue. “No, you must first learn how to act like an emperor--how to be responsible, honorable, considerate, respectful.”

“But I am all that stuff!” And yet Bhanar knew he wasn’t.

“And humble.” The god chuckled, his coat of fire shedding tiny flames. “Now really, be honest with yourself. Have you ever taken the time to understand someone else’s point of view? The media’s, perhaps? The general public’s? Or how about your father’s?”

Bhanar scowled. “You’re telling me You brought me here just to give me a talking-to? Just to say ‘be a good person’? I’m in dire trouble, with two broken legs and a madman shooting at me, and You’re not going to help me?”

Zhíanoso smirked. “Hey, don’t be greedy. You called Me, after all, and I came.”

Bhanar’s head reeled. He’d called Zhíanoso? How?

The fire god laughed. “Enough of this jibber-jabber. I can’t stand around chatting till the end of time.” He laughed harder, as if this were a joke.

“Wait!” Bhanar reached toward Zhíanoso. “If I called You, I called You for help, right? And You responded to me. You came to my aid. So why don’t You help me? Even if You can’t give me that wonderful ruby necklace, You can help me in some other way, right?”

Zhíanoso frowned thoughtfully for a few moments of eternity. Finally, He nodded slowly, His smile growing. “Very well. Here is your aid: When you get to the springs, follow the water.”

Springs? What? “Like water coming out of the ground?”

The god nodded. “Precisely.”

“But You’re a fire god. Why are You telling me to follow water?”

Zhíanoso shrugged expansively, burning a brighter red. “You asked for My help and I provided. Now stop complaining and grow up.”

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