The Fire in our Hearts

The Works

The smoke was the first thing you saw. It loomed over the sun making it appear as night never left. Next you saw The Works. It shattered the flawless sky with its massive stone walls. The boys in the cart seemed to silence as they started to realize that their ‘victory’ was none at all but instead their very own hell for 10 years. I had met some of the people that had gotten kicked out of The Works; they were broken in every way a human could be. Usually they were young which was even more heartbreaking. Almost painfully a memory shot into my mind.
A boy, he couldn’t have been more than 17 was screaming as guards held him by the arms. They threw him out into a busy road. I ran to him. It was the right thing to do right? NO. Everyone screamed at me “Get away from him, girl! He’s been cast out! He’s failed the king!” I couldn’t help myself. I helped him stand and he looked me dead in the eye and groaned “You’re lucky you’re a girl.” I didn’t understand what he meant and I couldn’t ask because a stranger picked me up and dragged me away even though I was screaming and struggling.
Crack! The memory stopped and my headache returned with a new intensity. Now I knew what he had meant. He meant I wouldn’t have to suffer The Works but now I would. The last few minutes of my freedom were ticking away faster than I could imagine. Then I realized. The cart was open. I could run, find the boy, make a life, and actually live. Excitement bubbled inside of me but was soon popped by reason. I would just have to survive.
The cart seemed to be incapable of coming to a difference in speed because the stop was equally as jarring as the start. I hiked up my skirt and jumped out. Setting my jaw, I put on a brave face and started forward leading the line of men. Once the cart-driver delivered us to the front door of a long tubular building, we waited. The door glided open on oiled hinges and I stepped in.
Hands everywhere grabbed at me! One set pulled me over to a chair. My hair was pulled out of its bun and before I knew it cut off. It was not as short as a buzz cut but still none touched my neck. I ran my hand through my new hair as I was passed off to the next station. I was put behind a screen. “Change.” A hoarse voice called. Pants, a shirt, boxers, boots, and a belt were thrown over the screen; the boots almost crushing me. “30 seconds.” The voice said loudly. Pulling off my slip I slipped into the pants and shirt, pulled the belt around my small waist, and pocketed the boxers.
“Done.” I said stepping out from behind the screen.
“What about your boots?” He said making sure I had everything correct.
“I prefer my own, thank you.” I had my favorite leather boots on. They were came to my mid-thigh, gray, and laced. I loved them because they were light and flexible but practically indestructible from the ‘tests’ I’ve run on them.
“Those won’t keep you dry or warm.” He said frustrated.
“They’re waterproof and wool-lined. I’ll be fine.” The last word came out with a sting that shut him up.
But I heard as I walked off “Don’t complain when your feet fall off and I throw you out.” I grumbled a curse at him and continued. My clothes were massive on me and the only thing holding them together was the belt that somehow fit me. The next station had a desk with two women behind it. They measured me, weighed me, asked me some basic health and intelligence questions. After taking notes and some tests, they handed me a crate full of life’s basic necessities. Lastly, I went to a station with lots of papers and a man with one eye sorting them.
“Hey, boy!” I raised my eyebrow but didn’t argue. “What do you want to do in The Works?”
“What is there?”
“Oh, all sorts!” he wheezed. “There’s water development, heat keeping, farming, food services, etc.” I thought about the options he gave me carefully.
“Ummm… What’s heat keeping?” I said carefully.
“Well… in short, fire.”
“I’ll do it!” I said enthusiastically. Fire always fascinated me and since it was the main source of heat, light, power, cooking, and energy it seemed like the right thing to do.
“It’s dangerous, sonny and you gotta be smart. It’s physical, you know. Very few choose it because of the risks of well everything.” He said surprised.
“Sounds good to me.” I said with a smile. He nodded almost sadly like he knew something he didn’t want to say but handed me a smaller box. Inside were gray leather gloves, a red scarf, and silver bracers that had a flames carved into them. I was then rushed into a mix of bodies. All holding crates identical to mine and most had the small box visible from the top. There were about 5-7 boys standing in the group with me. A loud buzzer reverberated throughout the building and the bodies shuffled forward into a tunnel with a large fire carved above it.