It's rated M for adult themes - I'll try to post a trigger warning at the beginning of the chapters. But in general this fic includes mention of rape (no graphic scenes), mention of torture, non-graphic torture, and a lot of people getting sick.
PrologueA long time ago - Enchanted Forest
The man walked to the center of the village carrying the body of his dead son. He placed the lifeless corpse on a table before turning his gaze toward the assembled men and women. They could not see his face, concealed in the hood of his cloak. The only feature the villagers would ever remember was his bright red eyes, ablaze by the injustice the man had just suffered.
Once he was sure he had the attention of all gathered, the man finally spoke. "His name was Ovid. At the age of fourteen, he became a soldier in the Ogre War. He never saw his fifteenth birthday." The man took a deep breath before continuing. "My son did not see his fifteenth birthday because I am a coward." The man's gaze settled on an older man holding a young boy close to him, a boy about the same age as his own when he had been drafted. "I did not try to stop the soldiers from taking my son."
The man pointed his index finger at the crowd. "You are all cowards. You do not deserve your children. And they do not deserve you. They do not deserve the fate that awaits them in the war."
The man tapped his staff three times on the ground. A blue light emanated from it and propagated outward. The villagers gasped in surprise and fear, recoiling from the light. The man smirked. "On the first day, they were too tired to fight for their families." The man hit the ground with his staff one more time.
"On the second day, they were marked for their cowardice." One more tap. "On the third day, they burned in shame." One more tap. "On the fourth day, their pain reverberated through their soul." One more tap. "On the fifth day, their cowardice ate them alive." One more tap. "On the sixth day, their cowardice choked them to death." One more tap. "On the seventh day, they could not recognize their loved ones." One last tap.
The man walked in a circle around his son. "Let this curse be known as The Blaze. Once in every generation, it will mark its preys and on the eighth day, the judgement will pass. Only the worthy will survive the curse." He tapped his staff one last time before disappearing in a black cloud.
The boy looked toward his father expectantly. "Who was he, Papa?"
The older man squeezed his boy's shoulders tightly. "I don't know, Baelfire."