Enflamed (Book 2) (10 page)

The cheers had died down, and
the crowd began to disperse.

Rubbing his pained ribs, Aidan
quickly made his way out of the plaza.

“Aidan! ’Ow could you just up
and reject
a
’uge sum of money like that?!” Nester had
caught up with Aidan walking alongside him, trying to keep up with his
long-legged gait.

Aidan kept silent.

“Now we won’t ’ave enough
money for our trip to Ghaeldorund!” Nester fingered some coins in one of his
belt pouches. “Well, at least
I
managed to make a li’l ’ere an’ there.
And I’m sure as ‘ells ain’t givin’ you a single soddin’ piece! Th’ kids are
richer than us! Can you believe that?!”

Aidan kept his eyes focused
ahead as he made his way toward the nearest inn.

“I’ve never seen a more stupid
bloke than you, Aidan,” Nester continued. “’Ow could you ...”

Aidan stopped listening.
Gaston had unnerved him. That bitter taste never left his mouth, and those
mixed scents of something bloody and pleasant were etched in his mind.

VIII

Kaijin couldn’t stop grinning
as he perused booth after booth of books. For the first time in a long time, he
felt at peace with himself. Flipping through an assortment of tomes pertaining
to the gods—more particularly, Ignis, the Firelord—Kaijin noticed Zarya out of
the corner of his eye. She simply stared at him while he read in silence.

“How interesting,” she said at
last.

He stopped reading and looked
up. “What?”

Zarya smiled.
“Someone like yourself being so avidly curious about the gods.”
She lowered her voice. “Are you looking to become
a
Ignan cleric?”

“No,” Kaijin replied. “I
simply wish to further expand my knowledge about the god, whom I’ve grown to
revere.” He returned the books to their stacks and then sighed. He turned away
from the stall and walked away, his head lowered. He could remember Easthaven’s
vast marketplace and the endless rows of vendors’ booths that had lined the
streets. Kaijin could still feel the same enthusiasm he had felt as a boy,
walking with his father amongst the throng of shoppers. He could smell the aged
books from some of the booths, and he could hear his father’s scolding voice
after Kaijin had wandered off alone to explore some of the bookstalls. Kaijin
choked back tears the longer he dwelled on his past.

“Kaijin?” he heard Zarya call
out softly.

Turning, Kaijin saw the
priestess run to him, carrying two books. “You forgot these.”

Kaijin blinked, realizing the
books were the two he had been browsing through the longest. “You ... you
bought these for me?”

A hint of pink flushed her
cheeks. “Well, you looked like you really wanted these in particular....”

Kaijin swallowed a small lump
in his throat. He slowly reached out and accepted the books from her. A warm,
pleasant
feeling,
came over him, and he smiled. “Th—
thank
you....”

Zarya beamed and nodded.

After placing the books into
his haversack, Kaijin continued his walk. Zarya joined him.

“How did you come to know the
Firelord?” she inquired.

Kaijin took a deep breath, his
smile remaining. “I first discovered Him from a book my former master once gave
me when I was five.” He paused to reminisce. “But despite how long I’ve known
Him, I feel as though there is still much more to learn—that I am still so new
to His ways.”

“Most Ignan followers travel
the world, spreading the ways of the Firelord. Ignis believes in purity, strength,
overcoming one’s enemy and not showing fear. And yet, there is an even deeper
meaning.”

“Deeper? What do you mean?”
He’d studied the magical side to the Firelord, but not the clerical, and her
words piqued his curiosity.

“It is difficult for me to
explain in a way that you would understand.”

“I would like to try.”

Zarya paused and rubbed her
chin. “It is not something that can be explained in
words,
exactly, but
rather
felt.
And that is something only possible for a cleric who is
properly attuned to their god.”

Kaijin frowned, his gaze idly
following the passersby. He headed away from the large crowds and found an
empty bench near one of the taverns that overlooked the entire festival from
afar. He sat and sighed.

Zarya sat beside him.
“Kaijin?
Is something wrong?”

He looked at her, her soft,
angelic voice soothing his nerves. He felt a brief pang in his head and looked
to the sky just in time to see Miele happily fluttering overhead, visiting the
rooftops. He turned back to Zarya and lowered his voice enough for only her
ears. “My former master once said my magic was somehow ...
tainted
by a
divine power.”
I think that was his way of saying I am cursed.

One of Zarya’s thin, white
eyebrows rose.
“Your magic?
Tainted?”

Kaijin nodded. “I don’t know what
that means, but that is why I am here. I wish to learn more about myself.”

“A mage
whose powers are influenced by a god—now
that’s
an interesting concept.”
She chuckled softly. “Perhaps it may not be so
farfetched, but I’m quite sure that it’s rarely seen and experienced. It could
very well be a blessing from your god—or a curse.”

“I do hope for the former
rather than the latter.” Kaijin smiled weakly. “Sometimes I hear things—voices.
It’s like the Firelord speaks to me.”

“What does the Firelord say?” Zarya
tilted her head to the side, curious.

“He says many things.” Kaijin
shifted uncomfortably. “Such as—” He suddenly stopped as he spied an aged man
who had been standing by watching the festival turn and began walking in their
direction. Bright yellow robes showed beneath his light chain shirt. A symbol
of a flame was emblazoned on the tabard, matching the designs woven along the
bottom hem of his robe. As he drew closer, Kaijin noticed burns and scorch
marks on his hands.
A cleric of Ignis.

The cleric passed them,
heading toward the tavern beside them.

“Kaijin.”
Zarya nudged him. “He looks like—”

“Yes... he is,” Kaijin said
absently, following the stranger with his gaze.

The stranger opened the door
and then paused. He turned his head sharply their way, his ebony ponytail
whipping behind him.

Kaijin met the man’s gaze, and
swallowed nervously.
I ... I can’t believe it. This has to be a dream.
His gaze fell back to the symbol on the tabard.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed
at Kaijin. His hand slowly fell away from the door handle, and he approached
them.

Kaijin gasped.
Oh gods,
now
what do I do?
“Zarya, he’s coming this way,” he whispered. “What should I
say?”

Zarya smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, Kaijin.”

The stranger stood before
them, assessing them both but focusing on Kaijin. “Greetings, Brother.”

“Ah—” Kaijin was lost for
words.

“Greetings, sir,” Zarya broke
in. Kaijin was relieved that she decided to speak in his stead. “We couldn’t
help but admire your ... attire. May I assume you are of the Ignan clergy?”

The stranger’s thick, black
eyebrows rose. “Indeed, m’lady. I am a servant of the Firelord. Are you looking
for guidance?”

An actual cleric of the
Firelord!
Kaijin stared at the man in
awe. His tanned face was rough and weathered, as though he had traveled much.
Kaijin humbly bowed his head.

Zarya shook her head,
then
spoke in a soft, polite tone, “I am not, sir, with all
due respect to the Firelord. My name is Zarya. I am an apprentice of the
Celestran clergy and on a journey of my own. This is my friend, Kaijin. Like
you, he is also a ... a servant of the Flame.”

The stranger nodded politely
to the priestess and then stroked his trim, grey-streaked beard. His attention
returned to Kaijin.

Kaijin exhaled, finally
mustering the courage to speak. “I ... I seek guidance, sir. I wish to learn
more about myself, my abilities—and my god. I’m ... not a cleric, however....”

The stranger dismissively
waved his hand. “One does not need to be a cleric to learn about Him. Have you
ever heard of the Pyre?”

Kaijin
quirked his brow.
“No, sir, I have
not.”

Zarya looked thoughtful. “The
Pyre.... Is that not a formal name for the Ignan aurorium?”

“Nay,
m’lady.”
The stranger turned to
Kaijin. “Far to the southeast, there is a place high in the mountains known as
the Pyre. It is one of the few holy landmarks in the world dedicated to the
Firelord.”

Kaijin brightened.
A place
dedicated to the Firelord? A place where there are others like me?
“Oh,
thank you, for the information, sir!” He glanced at Zarya. “That is where I’m
going to head next.”

Zarya blinked. “Wait, Kaijin.
What about the orb?”

“Orb?”
With sharp curiosity, the stranger’s gaze bounced
from Kaijin to Zarya.

“Ah ...” Kaijin glanced around
cautiously, but he saw no eavesdroppers. He reached into his haversack and
cradled the orb in his hand, but he hesitated to reveal it to the stranger.
Kaijin eyed him warily,
then
looked at Zarya.

The priestess closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she stared blankly at the stranger. Her eyes glowed
a moment before returning to their normal sapphire hue. She turned to Kaijin
and nodded once. “It’s all right, Kaijin. He means no ill intent.”

Kaijin regarded the priestess
with newfound curiosity.
How does she know that?

The stranger frowned at her.
“I am a servant of the Flame, m’lady. I would not dare bring harm to a fellow
brother. While your cautiousness is understandable, casting a detection spell
on me was unnecessary.”

Zarya bowed her head. “Forgive
me, sir. I meant no offense.”

“Brother Kaijin.” The priest
turned to him. “What is it you have there?”

Grasping the orb, Kaijin took
a deep breath and slowly pulled it out of the haversack.

The priest gazed upon the
artifact. The magical flames within swirled and flickered in a beautiful
display. He gasped, his eyes widening in amazement.
“By the
gods!
Where did you find that?”

“The druids’ ruins in
Houndstooth Marsh,” Kaijin replied. “Do you know what it is, sir?”

The priest stared into the orb
with intense scrutiny. He whispered reverently, “His beautiful flames are
contained within.” He extended his hand but stopped before his fingertips
touched it. He yanked his hand back and winced. “You hold the essence ... the
essence of ...”

The priest’s stare had gone
blank, as if hypnotized. Kaijin promptly returned the orb to his bag and
secured it. “It’s been doing that to me, too.”

As soon as the orb was
concealed, the priest snapped out of his trance. He rubbed his eyes and refocused
on Kaijin. “Ah ... Y—young man, that artifact should be taken to the Pyre
immediately. The grand cleric there would know exactly what it is and what must
be done with it. Make haste. The power you hold must not fall into the wrong
hands.”

Kaijin gulped and regarded
Zarya.

She stared back at Kaijin,
saying nothing.

“I would gladly accompany you
on your journey,” the priest continued. “However, I have duties of my own.
Head southeast toward the mountains.
You will soon spot
plumes of smoke in the sky arising from the offerings to the eternal flames in
the sacred brazier. Let the smoke guide you to the Pyre.”

“Thank you, sir!” Kaijin
beamed.

The priest nodded once,
then
turned away.
“Safe travels, Brother
Kaijin, and to you, as well, m’lady Zarya.
May His holy flames burn
strong in you
both.
”

Kaijin bowed his head
graciously, accepting the blessing. After the priest disappeared into the
tavern, Kaijin turned to Zarya, his smile remaining.

IX

“Four!
’Undred!
Gold!”
Is he as daft as he is big?

Silver-lined tapestries,
exotic rugs, and other extravagant décor embellished the interior of the
Prancing Dragon Inn, which overflowed with patrons that made the place
boisterous and merry. The air was thick with the smell of ale and steamed meat.
Dozens of serving wenches hustled to and from the kitchen and bar, carrying
trays of food and tankards sloshing with drinks.

Scowling bitterly, Nester sat
across from Aidan and watched him wolf down a meal fit for seven people. On the
table sat two tureens filled with thick, meaty stew; a large serving platter of
smoked pork trimmed with mixed vegetables; a voluminous tankard brimming with
mead; and two unused dishes. “’Ow can you think about eatin’ at a time like
this?” Nester whined.

Aidan took a long sip of mead,
casting Nester a blank look over the brim of his tankard.

“We could’ve been rich,
Aidan!” Nester wailed.

Sighing, Aidan lowered his
drink and looked at the tankard’s contents. “Aidan wishes they had almond milk
here. This drink has strange taste.”

Nester rolled his eyes. “It’s
called ‘mead’, Aidan. Don’t tell me you’ve never drunk mead before.”

Aidan shook his head. “Aidan
has always loved almond milk since he was little boy.”

Nester closed his eyes and
carefully banged his forehead on the table, exasperated.
“’Oy!
Well you ain’t a li’l boy anymore, Aidan!” He looked up at him. “Speakin’ of
li’l boys ... we could’ve ’ad
th
’
world,
if you
’adn’t ’ave given it all away to a bunch of soddin’ kids!
Kids,
Aidan!
Do you realize what you’ve done? A bunch of kids ain’t gonna change
th
’ world—
we
are!”

Aidan casually stirred the
stew with a large wooden serving spoon. “Children do not need to starve. They
are the future.” Aidan offered a portion to him.

Nester blinked. “Listen to
yourself! What’s wrong with you?!” He paused, looked at the spoonful of stew,
and promptly shook his head.
“Soddin’ ’ells!
For th’
fifth time already, I told you I can’t eat another bite. What’re you tryin’ to
do? Make me explode? I think I ate myself deeper into depression realizin’ ’ow
much gold we lost today.”

Aidan smiled. “Money is not
everything, you know. We have food. We have shelter. We have good health. Is
that not enough?” He stuck the spoon back into the stew then pulled the tureen
in front of himself.

“Arrgh!
You’re impossible, Aidan! There’s no gettin’ through
that thick, scaly ’ead o’yours!” Nester slumped down with his elbows on the
table, and grumbled curses under his breath. He focused on what was going on in
the rest of the inn.

* * *

The inn’s front door swung
open, and Kaijin and Zarya entered. They wove their way through the throngs of
boisterous patrons.

“Most people in town recommend
visiting this place during the festival,” Zarya said to Kaijin over the noise.
“I’ve heard they have good wine here, too.”

He spotted Aidan sitting near
the rear of the inn and pointed. “Hey, look, over there.”

“Looks like
they had the right idea.”
Zarya
smiled. “Come on. Let’s go sit with them.”

Nester looked toward them as
they made their way to the table. He quickly got up from his chair and ran to
meet them.
“Kaijin!
Zarya! Am I glad to see you two!
Please talk some sense into Aidan, ’ere! I think ’e’s really lost it this
time!” He grabbed Zarya’s hand and tugged her over to the table.

Zarya followed Nester and
stopped before Aidan, who, seemingly oblivious to their presence, was finishing
off some stew from one of the tureens and then began working on the other. She
yanked her hand away and regarded Nester curiously. “What are you going on
about now, Nester? What did Aidan do?”

Nester remained standing and
gestured for her and Kaijin to sit. “Oh, it started out great, aye! Aidan was
challenged to a friendly li’l competition. First prize started at three ’undred
gold! Aidan did great, ’e did. Gave ’is first opponent a good wallop in th’
noggin, and
wham!
Sent
th
’ poor sod flyin’ an’
landin’ flat on ’is face!” Nester punched exaggeratingly at an invisible
opponent. “Then, ’e went an’ crippled ’is second opponent with a kick in th’
leg.
Crack!
Poor sod ’ad to get carried out.” He kicked, and his foot
impacted the bottom of the table. “Ouch!”

Aidan nearly choked on his
mead. He glowered and slammed the tankard on the table.

Nester cringed, holding his
foot as he hopped up and down. “I think I broke my big toe, I did!” he cried.

“You’ll live.” Zarya sternly
eyed the brownie.

Nester cast the priestess a
pleading look, but she seemed unfazed. He sighed in defeat and slowly let go of
his foot. Afterwards, he stood on both feet, then hopped up and down and
grinned.
“’Ey!
It’s not broken no more! You ’ealed it!
Thanks, beautiful!”

Zarya rolled her eyes.

“So, Nester,” Kaijin said.
“Why are you upset with Aidan? From your story, it sounds like he won the
competition. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Nester stared at Kaijin, wide-eyed.
“Why am I upset? Why am I so soddin’
upset?
It’s
cause
this
big oaf gave
all
that money away—to a bunch of soddin’
kids!
We ended up winnin’ four ’undred gold after th’ competition was
all over, an’ Aidan decides to give it away to some soddin’ orphanage!”

Kaijin blinked.
What?

Aidan resumed slurping his
stew, not appearing to pay the brownie any mind.

“So, let me get this straight,
Nester.” Zarya narrowed her eyes. “You are upset at Aidan for doing charitable
work?”

Nester shook his head. “It wasn’t
‘charitable work’, beautiful. It was foolish! We could’ve used that money for
our travels, y’know. Ghaeldorund is an expensive city to survive in.” He
pointed a thumb at Aidan. “Now, thanks to
this
bloke, we won’t be
gettin’ very far.”

Aidan raised the entire tureen
and slurped the remaining stew as if it were just a small soup bowl.

“Soddin’
’ells!”
Nester gawked. “I can’t
believe you just ate all that by yourself!”

Zarya looked at Aidan and then
the remaining food on the table.
“By the goddess!
Is
all this Aidan’s?”

“Aye,” Nester replied. “We
were on our way ’ere when we ran into this ritzy bloke who was so impressed
with Aidan’s performance at
th
’ competition that ’e
treated ’im to a free room and luxurious meal. A good twenty golds’ worth of
accommodations, mind you!”

“Twenty!” Zarya exclaimed, her
eyes widening.

“That’s a lot of food,” Kaijin
said.

Nester nodded firmly.
“Aye.
You two ’ungry?
There’s
certainly plenty for everyone. In fact, ’ere! Please eat so Aidan will stop
pesterin’ me about it.” He pushed the two unused plates in front of Kaijin and
Zarya, spooned out two hefty portions of vegetables from the platter and placed
two thick-cut slices of pork on top.

Zarya chuckled. “I can’t
believe that
you’re
annoyed for a change, Nester.”

Nester bristled. “I ain’t
annoyed. I’m just ... uh, full ... and ... very upset. Aye, that’s right. Upset
at what Aidan did with all that gold.”

Kaijin took a moment to eye
and smell the delectable meal before looking back at the brownie. “No sense in
crying foul about it now, Nester. I know you have your
methods
of
obtaining more gold—methods I’d rather not get myself involved in. And I’m
actually quite surprised that
you’re
full. I’ve seen you eat before.”

“Aye, well ...” Nester
returned to his seat.
“Even I ’ave my limits.
Aidan
’asn’t stopped eatin’! I swear, ’e’s got th’ belly of a
Dragon
!”

Aidan rubbed his belly and let
out a heavy, thunderous belch. Several nearby patrons looked his way, startled.

Kaijin stared at the giant.
“Gods be damned, Aidan!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Nester
said.

Zarya grimaced. “Pardon you,
Aidan.”

Aidan smiled sheepishly at her
as he refilled his tankard with mead. Then he pulled the entire pork platter
toward himself. He skewered a hunk of meat with the carving fork and watched
the juices dribble into the surrounding vegetables.

Nester sighed, shook his head,
and regarded Kaijin and Zarya once more. “Anyway, there ain’t
no
sense in goin’ to Ghaeldorund at this rate. We don’t
got
th’ means to survive in a place like that. No sense in
askin’ those pompous fiddlers about that artifact. They just want more gold to
fill their greedy big pockets, they do!”

“Look who’s talking.” Zarya
coolly eyed Nester. She picked a chopped carrot off her plate and daintily
nibbled it.

Nester huffed and stiffened in
his seat.

“Well,” Kaijin said, “I don’t
plan anymore on going to Ghaeldorund.” He paused to take a small bite of pork.
His eyes briefly lit up in surprise as the meat practically melted on his
tongue.
Wow! I’ve not tasted anything so succulent before.
He took
another, larger bite.
This is almost as good as Mother’s cooking!

Nester blinked. “What? You
mean you know a better place to go to figure out what that thing is?”

Kaijin reluctantly paused his
eating. “Yes. Zarya and I met someone earlier—an Ignan priest. He told us about
a place called the Pyre and advised that we visit the grand cleric there. There
is fire in this orb, of this I am certain. If anyone would know more about this
thing, the Ignans at the Pyre would.”

Nester looked thoughtful. “’Ey,
that’s not a bad idea. I mean, it makes sense, really. So, ’ow do we get to
this place?”

“He said it’s to the
southeast, in the mountains.” He blinked. “That fire symbol on your map,
Nester—it must be there.”

“Aye?”
Nester fumbled through his pouches, pulled out his
map, and began to carefully unfold it. He laid the oversized parchment out on
an empty spot on the table and studied it closely. “Are you sure ’e meant that
place?”

“Quite.” Kaijin pointed to the
fiery symbol.

Nester frowned. “What else did
’e say?”

“Well, he mentioned that you
could see smoke billowing in the distance.”

“Ah,
th
’
ones that come from th’ braziers sittin’ on th’ roof of th’ place?”

Kaijin nodded.

“Soddin’
’ells!
We’ll just be wastin’ our
time goin’ there. Th’ warders won’t talk to you. They’ll just say you’re
‘walkin’ on ’oly grounds’ and shoo you off like they did me.”

“But Kaijin reveres the
Firelord,” Zarya said. “Would they really turn him away?”

Nester glanced at Kaijin and
then turned back to the map. “I don’t know.... They might. Kaijin’s not a
warder, after all.”

“I think it is worth a try, at
least,” Kaijin said. “After all, as you said, Nester, we don’t have the means
to survive in Ghaeldorund.” He gave the brownie a halfhearted smile.

Nester grumbled sourly. “Well
... All right.” He refolded the map, stuffed it back into his pouch, and then
looked across the table to Aidan. “Are you done yet?”

Aidan wolfed down the last few
hunks of meat and slices of vegetables. He then swilled the rest of his mead,
pushed the empty tankard aside and patted the subtle bulge in his gut. He
suppressed another burp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Zarya
crossed her arms and frowned, and he stopped and lowered his hand.

Nester rubbed his eyes. “I
can’t believe it. Not a single bit of food left!”

Kaijin chuckled. “Well, that
explains his size, at least.”
Among other things.
“So, do we all agree to set out for the Pyre tomorrow?”

Nester made a sour face. “Ah,
I guess we ain’t got a choice, at this point.”

Zarya nodded. “I will follow.”

“All right.”
Kaijin nodded. He shifted his attention to the giant.
“We’re leaving early tomorrow, Aidan. Would you like to join us, as well?”

Aidan studied the map
thoughtfully for a moment. “Aidan does not care about some simple marsh trinket,
but ... Aidan will consider joining. He has many unanswered questions of his
own.”

* * *

Aidan remained awake late that
evening, long after his comrades and other festival-goers had retired. Though
he had been gifted a free room for the night, he felt himself unable to stay.
The cool night air and the hard, cobblestone streets seemed more appealing to
him than a warm bed.