How about a story? BURN, now with more SADNESS

[TT Snim]

Hello all, I'm working on a story called _Burn_ And thought I might as well post it here to see if any one would be interested in it. 

@Simple Synopsis:

> A city once besieged by a Dragons Master and her summons finds it hard to accept her young son with in it's walls, even though he may be the city's best chance to survive the future.

@Synopses Expanded:

> In an agrarian city fighting for survival against dragons they find they must trust the young son of a Dragon master: the very dragon master who tried to destroy the city only three years before.  The local page teacher, who already lost every thing once to the Dragon Master, now finds him self  loathfully face to face with another member of it's tribe.  While the teacher wrestles between his love for children and his need for vengeance other city dwellers with less morality and more blood lust close in on the boy.  This all takes place under the silent, but ever present eye of the city council, who may or may not decide to intervene should violence come upon the innocent youth.  At just seven years old Zeo Ranigan may be headed for a fight for his very one survival, from the people who were supposed to care for him, and from the ever looming dragons them selves.

@Burn: Chapter One:

> Burn
>
> By TT Snim
>
> Chapter one: Dawn
>
> ……
>
> Warmth spread over his back while the chill of the night clung to his stomach.  He was on the floor again and the new dawn's light was starting to penetrate the heavy drapes that hung from old wrought iron rods.  Across the floor boards in a thin beam of light the white covers of an empty bead nearly glowed. 
>
> He pushed him self up to his hands and knees stiffly.  Even for a small seven year old boy sleeping on the floor had a terrible way of making a persons muscles hard and chilly.  He sat a moment before stretching, knowing that if he did it to soon his body would lock up and little twitches would erupt painfully room his back and sides.  They did every time he stretched to fast after waking up on the floor.  Quietly he sat and let the sun warm him. 
>
> It took him a sleepy moment to realize that some one had draped an afghan over him before he'd woken up, and now the old knit blanked was bunched up behind him.  He pulled it up, draped it around his shoulders, and sank back in to it's sun beam fueled warmth. 
>
> From some where else in the dusty old home foot steps could be heard clomping about.  The boy shied back at the heavy steps and pulled the afghan tighter around his head.  The heavy booted footsteps from the other person in the house made a cold knot form in the youth's stomach.  Heavy handed and loud was the older kid who lived here now.  He had pointy greenish eyes and flat looking red hair.  He almost always seemed angry.
>
> His name was Jay and he was scary, more scary than the stories of robbers or thieves, more scary than even the dragons that hunted people out side the city.  He hated having to have the older boy there in the house, but there was no one else who would come.
>
> Sniffling and scooting back in to the wall the boy pulled the blanket as tight as he could, forgetting to stretch at all.  The big warm bed across the room looked suddenly all to inviting, but he knew he'd never be able to climb in to it.  Looking down at his knees he felt him self pout.  Sharp little pricks of pain filled hit throat and nose, but her refused to cry this time.
>
> A wonderful soft old woman had owned the house: a woman who had walked softly and spoken sweetly to him.  She had big blue eyes and gray hair that fell all over the place.  Big wrinkles in her face made her look like she was always smiling. 
>
> He hugged his knees and set his chin on them.  His eyes hurt from holding all of the tears back and his tummy felt like it was being washed in icy hot water. It was sloshing and churning, even though it was empty.  Every thing hurt. 
>
> He'd found her in her big fluffy bed.  He thought she had been asleep, but she hadn't been.  When he couldn't waker her. . .
>
> He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  When he pulled his hands away they felt wet.
>
> A knock on the door made him look up.  He could see the world warping and swaying through tears he was still trying hard to keep hold of. 
>
> “Zeo, you awake yet brat?”  The knob twisted and clicked before the heavy wooden door swung open on squealing hinges.  “Your crying again, aren't you?”
>
> “No.”  He said, but his voice rasped.  Tears fell after that, being shaken loose when he moved to speak.
>
> “Do NOT lie to me.” 
>
> “I'm not crying.”  But he was.  Big drops were falling again.  He buried his face in his knees and whimpered.  “I'm sorry.”
>
> Though he couldn't see jay he knew well the face he'd be making.  He expected to be yelled at, again, but Jay half growled instead.  “I made food so come and eat it before it gets cold.”

I've done some art for this story as I am trying to decide if I want to WRITE it or make a COMIC out of it.  I can write it FASTER than I can draw it, but a Comic would really (I think) bring the story to life.