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Authors: R.M. Prioleau

Flameseeker (Book 3) (20 page)

BOOK: Flameseeker (Book 3)
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XXI

 

 

Aidan emerged from comparatively warm shallow water
into a hot, arid climate that dried his skin almost instantly. Jovi’vezzyvex
dumped him onto the soft white sand. Aidan landed on his back and lay there a
moment, staring at the cloudy sky still colored by the dawn.

Why was I the only one to survive?
He sat
up, a sour taste in his mouth.

“Aidan.”

He blinked and looked to Jovi’vezzyvex—and another,
smaller Dragon—both of whom sat before him.

Jovi’vezzyvex gestured toward the other Dragon
with a tilt of his head. “This is Cragahexika, one of my daughters. She is a
healer.”

Cragahexika inclined her head and briefly closed
her eyes.

Aidan smiled at her and returned the nod.

“I will gather more of my clan mates so that they
can assist me in finding the rest of your crew,” Jovi’vezzyvex said.

“Thank you,” Aidan said.

Jovi’vezzyvex turned toward the inland, spread his
wings, and took off, promptly disappearing behind a line of palm trees. Several
moments later, eight silhouetted figures soared from beyond the treeline.

Aidan stared open-mouthed as the creatures flew in
an organized V formation like a flock of birds. The Dragons flew out to sea,
then dove underwater.

Cragahexika lowered her head and nudged Aidan’s
ribs with her snout. Aidan cringed from her cold, wet touch.

“Father tells me you are a Koraseru,” she said in
Draconic. “It is such an honor.”

He placed his hand on the bridge of her nose and
rubbed it gently. “You are the third Dragon to call me that. I was told a story
about the Koraseru clan not too long ago. It is intriguing to think that such a
powerful clan once existed.”

“‘Once’? No, Father believes they weren’t all
wiped out. I suppose all the Dragon clans in the world hope that. But now that
you are here, that hope has been strengthened.” She grinned, showing a perfect
set of sharp teeth. “Now hold still while I address your injuries and fatigue.”

Aidan watched as lightning flashed in her eyes.
She gently brushed a clawed finger down his bare chest, and Aidan began to feel
refreshed. He looked at his hands and realized his entire body was glowing with
a deep, greenish light. Open cuts and bruises on his arms, hands, and feet
healed, and even the smallest of aches and pains in his body disappeared as his
strength and energy renewed themselves. Cragahexika lowered her finger
.

Aidan stood. He took a deep breath, filling his
lungs with the dry air that smelled of the sea. “I feel great! Thank you!”

Cragahexika inclined her head. Her tail wagged in
the soft sand. “Much like your Silver kin, my family also have strong healing
abilities. Many of us can even bring life back to the deceased.”

Aidan blinked. “You can revive everyone?”

She nodded. “Though I hope there are at least some
survivors. The spell is quite powerful and therefore is taxing on the caster. But
if the goddess Celestra wills it, She will give them strength. Don’t worry,
Aidan. We will do everything we can to help you and your friends. After all,
any friend of a Koraseru is certainly a friend of ours.” Her light, sea-blue
eyes stared toward the ocean. “I saw the storm from here, too. It formed so
quickly. The goddess Bronte must be furious about something to have incited
such a raging storm. Hmm ...”

Aidan sat cross-legged in the sand and clasped his
hands together. He stared out blankly toward the foggy, orange horizon. “I have
not been praying to Celestra as much as I should.”

Cragahexika sat down beside him and lowered her
head, resting her chin in the sand. “She knows your heart. And She has
obviously protected you from death. Just as She protects us, and we protect the
mages who live at the Harran.” She nodded toward the west, where a tall
hill—perhaps a small mountain—rose above the outlying trees. Small fires
burned, creating a path that snaked its way up the “hill” to something big
sitting atop it.

“The Harran?” Aidan repeated.

“That is what the mages there call their little
circle,” Cragahexika explained. “The mages are rather friendly to us, keeping
our home safe from slayers and other unsavory types. Their leader’s name is
Amil. For a human, he is quite powerful. He often comes to visit us.”

Aidan nodded slowly, though he was unfamiliar with
the name
.
The mention of slayers drew rage from within him. He remembered
Gaston, leader of a small army of slayers—the smug look on the man’s face as he
died, the smell of his blood on Aidan’s hands ...

He felt a small nudge in his arm.

“Aidan, look!” Cragahexika called, pointing to the
sea. “My family returns!”

Aidan squinted at the fog, where the eight Dragons
emerged from the water and walked onto shore.

 

 

 

 

 

XXII

 

 

Somewhere in another plane—or perhaps in the
distant areas of his mind—Kaijin trudged aimlessly through the desolate Realm
of Fire. The ground beneath him was comprised of continuously glowing embers,
but the heat didn’t seem to affect him. His mind burned with pain so
unbearable, he could barely lift his head, so he simply allowed his feet to
lead him to places unknown.

He knew he was not alone. He felt the native creatures
of the land watching him. Fortunately, they all seemed to leave Kaijin alone.
For
now.

He soon noticed the path he walked on no longer
glowed. Instead, it was inlaid with brass. He could see his own reflection from
the ground.
This is different.
He tried to lift his head, to see what
was around, but a force prevented him from doing so.

Something tapped against the brass path as it approached,
with the smell of brimstone and sound of heavy breathing.

Kaijin was soon staring at a large red foot, with
claws as long as his forearm. His heart pounded.

A clawed finger touched Kaijin’s chin and forced
his head to tilt up. Kaijin stared into the horrifying turquoise eyes of an
afriti.

Kaijin bit his bottom lip to keep it from
quivering. He forced a swallow and nearly choked on his own saliva.

The afriti’s expression contorted into something more
hideous as it smirked.
“The master will enjoy feasting on your fear,”
it
said in Kaijin’s mind.

Kaijin grunted. His head pounded in pain from the
afriti’s words.
I’ve died, haven’t I?

“Yes, you have died,”
the afriti said.
“And
you have failed.”
It grabbed Kaijin’s necklace with its claws and ripped it
from his neck.

Kaijin opened his mouth, wanting to scream, but his
voice was gone. Only the mental torment remained.

The afriti meticulously slid Ranaiah’s ring off
his finger then crushed it to blue, sparkling dust.
“You will never see her
again.”

Ranaiah ...
Kaijin’s eyes watered with
tears, which promptly turned to steam.

“You are a weak, pathetic mortal, to allow the
enemy to defeat you so easily. You are unworthy to be called ‘Firebrand.’”

He shuddered. Fear, anger, sadness—all surged
through him at once. He gritted his teeth and bore the torment. He would not
break—not lose control of himself nor go insane.
I will not become my
greatest fear.
He glared at the afriti.
You do not own me, creature!

The afriti returned the glare and lifted Kaijin
off the ground by the back of his robes.
“I
am
your greatest fear,
Kaijin Sora!”
it roared in his face.

Kaijin cringed and shook uncontrollably, but he
tried to keep his mind calm. He glimpsed a great burning spire atop a mountain
in the distance, extending well beyond the crimson colored skies. The brass
path wound its way toward it.

He looked back to the afriti.
No. You are but a
servant of the Firelord. You cannot destroy me, lest He wills it.
Kaijin
licked his dry lips.
You cannot have me. You
will not
have me! You
cannot torment me anymore with your lies. I know what I must do. And by Ignis’s
will, I will do it!

The afriti snarled.
“I am His rage! I am His
chaos! I am His destruction!”

Sensing the creature’s frustration, Kaijin felt
his fear subside, and his confidence rose. He smirked.
You are His puppet.
Always will be.
He held up his fist.
I demand you take me to Him.

Amusement spread over the creature’s face.
“Your
mortal eyes are not worthy to cast their gaze upon Him.”

You
will
take me.
Slowly, he began
to gain control of his mind again. At last, he felt the power that he’d always
sought—the power of confidence. The power to overcome his greatest fears.

The afriti curled its lip. It said nothing and
reluctantly carried Kaijin along the path toward the spire. They passed other
afriti, agama, fiery spirits, and many other such creatures native to the realm
that Kaijin had only seen in books, all of whom stopped and acknowledged them
both.

Kaijin glanced at the other creatures and turned back
to the spire, which loomed higher and higher as they approached. The exterior
was made of brass, and giant burning braziers burned all around it. Thick
plumes of grey-white smoke hung in the air around the upper tiers of the spire,
creating an eerie halo.

The area around him became hotter, and the smell
of sulfur and brimstone burned his nose. The brass path began to burn, flames
licking the creature’s feet like a beautiful dance. Kaijin allowed himself to
surrender to their hypnotizing beauty.

The fire turned to obsidian, polished to the point
that he could see his own reflection. Kaijin realized he was no longer outside.
The walls were crafted from the same stone.

Small flames along the walls created a lighted
path. The path soon widened into a great hall, with a ceiling that spiraled
upward farther than Kaijin could see. Burning, rock-like giants stood guard
along the walls, their emotionless crimson eyes locked on every movement of Kaijin’s
and the afriti’s.

The floor of the great hall narrowed to an aisle
and the afriti strode down it. It stopped before a massive staircase, atop
which sat an immaculate throne that bore white flames. Sitting on the throne
was something—or someone. Its outline wavered, blending with fire brighter and
hotter than whitefire.

Kaijin tried to look fully upon the sitting
figure, but he was unable to. The power emanating from atop those stairs was
beyond anything Kaijin could have ever imagined.

Next to the throne was a brass cage. A small animal—a
bat—hung upside down from the top. The fire from the throne burned around the
cage, as if an invisible shield surrounded it.

With a grunt, the afriti dropped Kaijin at the
base of the stairs. It then slowly genuflected at the the figure at the throne.

The bat screeched and flapped its wings,
channeling waves of relief his way. Kaijin’s eyes widened.
Miele!

She was alive. Then somehow, perhaps he was, too?

Kaijin opened his mouth to speak, but all that
came out was a gasp of air.

The light surrounding the throne subsided enough
for Kaijin to identify the figure as brawny, human-like, and masculine. He lounged
on the throne, leaning an elbow on one of the armrests and resting a cheek on
his fist. The “man” was no longer bathed in white, and he wore gleaming,
brass-colored armor that appeared to be melded into his skin, every inch of
muscle engraved in the metallic frame. His hair rippled in the air like fire.
He stared at Kaijin with white, pupilless eyes. He stayed silent, as though expecting
Kaijin to say something.

The afriti beside Kaijin placed its forehead to
the polished obsidian floor. Kaijin watched the creature for a moment then
looked up at the being on the throne. The being’s eyes flared, and Kaijin was
suddenly inclined to kneel, as well. He lowered his head but glanced up every
so often.

After several long minutes of silence, the being
rose from his throne and hovered inches off the floor as it glided down the
stairs. When he reached the bottom, he silently lowered until his feet met the
floor. Kaijin quickly averted his eyes back to the floor and stared at two
burning brass sabbatons covering the being’s feet.

Something lifted Kaijin’s head and held his
eyelids open against his will so he stared upon the stranger’s face. As Kaijin looked
upon the being’s perfect features, an intriguing sensation filled him, the same
one that he felt whenever he stared into a candle’s flame. A small smile crept
upon Kaijin’s face. Such beauty could not be expressed nor captured by the
words of mortals. Kaijin wanted to touch the being, like he touched a lit
candle. He willed his hand to move, but his body was frozen.

“Kaijin Sora.”
The being’s voice was the
very one that had been constantly speaking in his head.

Unable to respond verbally, Kaijin thought his
words.
Almighty Ignis! It is you!

Ignis smirked, his white eyes narrowing in amusement.
“And you ... are here.”

But how, my lord? Have I died?

Ignis’s smirk was replaced with a sneer.
“Bronte
forgets that she cannot destroy what is mine. She means to stop what is to soon
begin.”
He held up his gauntleted fist, which emitted a bright spark of
flame.
“To prevent you, Kaijin Sora, from doing what must be done.”

Kaijin cringed at the Firelord’s displeasure and remained
silent.
What is going to happen? What is it that Firelord demands of me?

Then he heard a deep chuckle in his mind. Ignis said
to the afriti, who remained prostrate,
“It is time, Bhalzek.”

The afriti raised its head then stood. In one
swift motion, it grabbed Kaijin and pinned him to the ground, face forward on
the surprisingly warm polished floor. Shackles made of fire rose from the
ground and secured his arms and legs.

Kaijin yelped and tugged at the shackles, but his
attempts at escape were useless.

Ignis loomed over him.

Kaijin froze, terrified.

His robes went up in flames, burning away until
nothing but his naked body remained.

What are you doing?
Kaijin thought, then
mentally cursed himself for asking such a bold question of his god.

Ignis didn’t respond to his question—at least, Kaijin
didn’t think so. Kaijin closed his eyes.

A hand touched his upper back—warm, soothing, and
refreshing. Certain it was the Firelord’s, Kaijin relaxed.

But soon sharp pain, like claws, began digging
deep into Kaijin’s flesh. It slowly dragged around the upper area of his back. The
open wounds stung, and Kaijin cried out, having never felt such excruciating
pain in his life. If he wasn’t dead already, he would surely die from the
shock. He heard Miele screech and her cage shake.

Kaijin’s nose wrinkled from the smell of iron—his
blood.

His back felt as though it was on fire for a
moment, numbing the pain. Then the sensation subsided and the pain was
miraculously gone.

“The branding is complete,”
Ignis said.

Bhalzek released the shackles and hoisted Kaijin
to his feet.

Kaijin noticed he was once again clothed, and his
clothes were clean and spotless. He also felt Ranaiah’s ring on his right hand.
He looked at it—it gleamed elegantly one more. He felt his chest and his eyes
widened. His fingers buried beneath his clothes and touched the warm golden
edge of his fiery charm. He stared open-mouthed at Ignis.

“There is one who has defied me, and I have
since banished him to live out the rest of his days trapped in your filthy
mortal realm. It seems he has thought to try my patience again. Za’thaak, he
calls himself. ‘The Lord of the Flames.’”
Ignis laughed mockingly, and his
voice became more sinister as it echoed throughout the chamber.
“Perhaps you
know him. Za’thaak deceives you, tormenting your mind and the minds of my
followers in order to turn them away from me.”

It was not Ignis?
Kaijin’s eyes widened.
But
... that voice ... it—

“There was a time when I came to your fragile
mind. You were but a boy then—naïve and uncertain of the truth.”

Kaijin had been curious about fire and Ignis in
his youth, and he’d done all he could to sate that curiosity. But one question
still stuck in his mind.
And what about Easthaven? My family? Was that
really you?

“What happened in your little city was
necessary. The undead would have overrun the living, their taint spreading
across the lands.”
Ignis crossed his arms.
“The city had to burn to
cleanse the unpure.”

Kaijin choked on his tears.

“And with the loss of your city,”
Ignis
continued,
“You have come to truly know me. But with this new bond, you have
now also acquired new enemies—those who would seek to destroy you.”

Kaijin bit his lip.
New enemies ... Did Za’thaak
find me through you, my lord?

Ignis chuckled darkly.
“On the contrary, Kaijin
Sora.
You
found
him.

What?

“Shortly after his banishment from here,
Za’thaak confined himself in a fire orb and hid himself in a place where he did
not think any mortals would find him. And yet, ironically, he was discovered by
you—my Firebrand.”

Kaijin gaped.
The orb. So all this time, I have
been helping a traitor!

“Yes, Kaijin Sora. You were helping a traitor,”
Ignis said, continuing to read his thoughts.

Kaijin fell to his knees and placed his forehead
to the floor. He felt the ability to speak again. “Oh! Almighty Ignis! Forgive
me for my actions! I didn’t know! I—”

“Silence!”
Ignis hissed, and a pillar of
white flames erupted around him. The heat scorched Kaijin, who shielded his
face and cowered from his god’s fury. The flames soon settled, and Ignis pointed
to the exit.
“I am finished with you. Go prove your worth. Find Za’thaak and
deal with him and his new sycophant.”

Ignis’s feet left the ground, and he floated back
to his throne and sat. He idly flicked open the lock to the cage with his
finger and set Miele free.

Screeching happily, Miele flew to Kaijin and
rested on his shoulder. She rubbed her furry head against his neck.

Kaijin smiled briefly at his familiar.
“Oh,
Miele!”

Ignis scowled.
“Bhalzek, get this mortal out of
my sight.”

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