This is an in-setting work. It has a particular cultural, historical, and personal perspective and may or may not be factually accurate.
Ten Years of Fire
By unknown
Story known by many Fanakaran peoples of the Wounds. As is typical amongst the Fanakara, it is not preserved in written form but rather in the memory of their storytellers.The young man and his people arrived to the island after many days at sea. Their ships were damaged. Their food stores were gone. They had spotted the seabirds in the midst of the storm and followed them to land. Without the birds they would have been lost, and perhaps died at sea.On the island, the young man and his people found fruits and game, which they gathered and hunted. Their first night there was a feast, more food than they had seen since their departure. In their hearts there was joy and relief. In their minds there was resolution and determination. This would be their new home.
The next day the people set about building their new central fire and their thatched homes around it. But in the mind of the young man the determination was especially strong. He explored the island, climbing the peak at its center. Though the island was not large, the peak was tall, and this caused him to tire greatly. Upon completing his ascent he looked out across the ocean and the beach and lowland below, where he could see his people's nascent village take shape. The young man then looked at the peak. He saw beauty both near and far. He saw the nests of the seabirds that had guided his people to land. This, he decided, would be his new home, away from the village.
But the young man was tired. He set about clearing the palm trees for space for his home and garden, but the effort exhausted him. He turned to his campfire and an idea came to him. The fire would do the work for him.
Taking a stick from the campfire, he set it to a nearby tree, then another, then another. Soon a clearing was made for him. The young man sighed contentedly. But the fire continued to spread.
Soon the fire was racing down the slopes of the peak, towards the lowlands below. The young man panicked. He ran down the peak, outracing the fire, and arrived at his people before it, shouting warnings of the incoming danger. But his people had nowhere to go. Their ships, barely capable of remaining afloat, had been dismantled for material. Everything they had was around their central fire and the houses still under construction. With nowhere else to go, and seeing the fire come closer every moment, they took refuge in the sea.
The fires burned for ten years. The people, though safe from the flames, struggled to survive with only their heads above water. Some drank from the water and walked below it, and stayed there. Others kept their loyalty to the air. After ten years had passed and the danger abated, they looked back to the ravaged island yet could not find it. They had once again become lost at sea.
This time there were no seabirds to follow. Their nests had been destroyed by the inferno, they had nowhere to live. They had abandoned the island in sadness, and the people in reproach, to find a new home of their own.
The people remained at sea for another ten years before another seabird passed overhead. This bird saw the island, and saw the people. It had heard of what had transpired. Though still disappointed, time had softened its anger, and it descended to the man and his people. Perching on his head, it spoke to them.
"You, who had destroyed the nests of my kind, acted in carelessness. I will lead to you land on one condition. You will learn from this. You will respect the nests of my kind, for they provide you direction."
With relief the people agreed, and the bird took flight. It brought them back to the island, which had at this point recovered and was once again full of fruit and game. The people once again set about constructing a village. The man, no longer so young, stayed with them this time.