The smoke had finally lifted and the last of the flames were starting to fade. The child stood in the middle of the ashes, lucky to be alive. He was silent. He was still. His eyes were wide, and his smile never faded. He was a miracle. He was the miracle. He was what the world needed. He was what the world wanted. But was the world ready?
Clouds started to fill the sky, and the rain started to pour down. There was no sound. There was no wind. There was nothing, but he. The village was history, the people were gone, but he stood staring, that smile never fading.
He started to walk through the ashes, through the memories, through the people. He headed north, going nowhere and at the same time going everywhere.