The Blaze Ignites (35 page)

“Rabryn,” Ortheldo said, “Beldorn and Azrel’s
father were very good friends. They met on a regular basis all
through Azrel’s life. They met in secret so Azrel could stay hidden
and secluded. They planned and organized and plotted steps so far
into Azrel’s future that
I
don’t even know where they end.
You were a part of their plans.”

Rabryn shook his head and I saw tears spring
up into his eyes. “Please Ortheldo,” he said. “Please don’t tell me
I was a part of bringing my sister to those tortures. Please. I
couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t…”

“Rabryn,” Ortheldo said gently, “this was
not
your fault, okay? You are
not
to blame. It’s
just…” He sighed. “It’s just something that had to happen.”

“Why?” he whispered desperately, his tears
spilling over.

“Because Azrel’s father wanted her to have a
flawless protector,” I said somberly.

Rabryn swallowed heavily. “How am I
a…flawless protector? And why did Azrel have to go to that Light
Gods forsaken place to make me one?”

Ortheldo sighed, glancing at me then back at
Rabryn. “Let’s make a fire so Azrel can warm up, then we’ll talk.”
He picked up Azrel’s limp body and brought her to her bed roll. He
laid her down gently and covered her up while I lit a fire. When it
was roaring, all of us sat facing it.

“First of all,” Ortheldo began, “Azrel’s
father knew a lot of things. He’d lived for a total of about 13,000
years, so he
should
have known a thing or two.” All of us
smiled a little. “He knew the people of The Pitt very well. He knew
they hated outsiders, he knew they hated weapons other than working
tools, but more importantly he knew they hated him for what they
believed he did to your mother. He also knew your mother very well.
He knew your mother would raise you to be a wonderful, loving boy.
After Beldorn told Azrel’s father about you, he
knew
that
you would be Azrel’s flawless protector.”

“What does that even mean?”

Ortheldo then looked at me and I went into
the explanation again about the shield from Hathum’s mind magic and
how it was formed by loving the White Warrior. “The stronger and
more devoted that love is, the stronger the shield,” I said. “Among
all of Azrel’s protectors you are the only one whose shield is
flawless. There’s not a single dent or ding or crack in the shield
that protects you from Hathum’s magic.” I smiled at him. “Even
Azrel’s father never had a completely flawless protector. You are
the first.”

“So,” Rabryn looked around the camp, “does
that mean the rest of you have…flaws in your love, in your shields,
that Hathum could exploit?”

I shook my head. “None that Hathum could
exploit right now, but flaws that, if we’re not careful, could turn
into cracks big enough for him to get into eventually.”

Rabryn’s brows drew together. “And I got this
way because Azrel came to The Pitt?”

“Not because Azrel came into The Pitt, but
because of the way you saw her treated in The Pitt,” Ortheldo said.
“Azrel’s father knew that she would be hated and treated badly
because he knew the people of The Pitt so well. They hated
outsiders, they hated weapons, and they hated him. All of that
combined created such a strong hatred for Azrel that the only
result could have been absolute cruelty towards her.

“He knew what Azrel was like and he knew what
you would be like being raised by his beloved Priweth,” Ortheldo
continued. “He knew that when you witnessed your good-hearted,
loving sister handling her torments bravely and gracefully, your
love would only grow stronger—to the point of what it is now. This
beautiful, perfect love you have towards her translates into your
flawless shield of protection.”

I pointed to Rabryn. “You are her most
powerful protector because your shield is so strong. You are so
absolutely unsusceptible to Hathum’s magic that the man probably
wouldn’t even bother trying to penetrate your shield. Even if he
did decide to try, he
would
fail because there are
absolutely no flaws he could hammer at.”

Rabryn now looked pointedly at Ortheldo. “How
come I’m the only one with a flawless shield?”

Ortheldo surprised me by smiling, but it was
a sad smile. “Generally speaking, no love is perfect. Yours is a
very, very rare thing.”

Rabryn sighed and shook his head in
disbelief, then looked around the camp. “So, as a flawless
protector, do I get any super-duper power or something that I can
use to defend Azrel with?”

All of us laughed, but a quiet “No” silenced
us quickly. All of us looked at Azrel as she sat up, drawing her
knees into her chest and resting her elbows on them. She looked at
Rabryn and surprised me by smiling slightly. “It just means that
Hathum is able to get to every single one of these clowns.” We all
smiled. “If that happens, you’re all I’ve got to protect me.” She
patted Rabryn’s knee. “I can’t think of anyone better to be stuck
with.” All of us laughed a little, but I saw the pain of her
statement flash in Ortheldo’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Rabryn asked.

“I’m not sure.” She leaned over and rested
her head on Rabryn’s shoulder and Rabryn put his arm around her
shoulders. She sighed. “I’m sorry everyone,” she said softly,
shaking her head. “I just couldn’t handle the thought of my father
sending me there,
knowing
what was going to happen to me.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head again a little more firmly,
as if shaking away the thought. “I just…I couldn’t handle it
and…fainted. It was too overwhelming.”

“But you’re okay now?” Ortheldo asked.

She sat up and rested her chin on her arms.
“I’m not sure how I feel. While I can understand why he”—she
squeezed her eyes shut—“why he did it, at the same time I wonder if
he worried about his decision at all. Did he care about what I was
going to go through? Or was he just blindly convinced it was the
right thing, that it didn’t matter what I’d have to endure to make
Rabryn what he is?” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I would
feel if that was the case.”

“Well,” I said, hating to see the pain in her
beautiful eyes, “since you don’t know for sure how he felt about
it, just assume that it broke his heart to make the decision to
send you there.”

She smiled gratefully but her eyes were still
sad. “I’ll try.”

Ortheldo clapped his hands and rubbed them
together. “Since we’re all here and we’re all awake, I suggest we
start catching up with each other about the week we’ve been
apart.”

Azrel nodded. “Good idea.” She looked across
the campfire. “Lisswilla, would you care to begin?”

“I will if you wish,” he responded.

Though I didn’t have much of a temper, there
was just something about that guy’s voice that made my skin crawl.
It was probably just the fact that we hated each other. I couldn’t
stand it.

“I’ll begin by saying—”

“Oh for the Sky Sanctuary’s sake,” I cried,
“take your mask off! You’re not Lady Acalith, and it’s muffling
your voice in the most annoying way.”

His eyes narrowed. “Muffling, huh? I thought
Salynns were keen of hearing.”

I glared back. “I also said it was
annoying.”

“Then by all means, I’ll make sure to keep it
on just for you.”

I could tell everyone wanted to laugh at our
banter, but they didn’t dare because they could see Lisswilla and I
really
hated each other. The animosity between us was
probably the biggest flaw in both our shields. I worried that when
Acalith was officially named the Deralilya and became able to sense
our shields, our hatred for each other would be severe enough to
have her dismiss us. I tried really hard to focus on good things
about Lisswilla, but it was nearly impossible.

When the silence between us had stretched
long enough to be uncomfortable, Lisswilla looked at the group
again. “I’ll just tell you about myself.”

“Oh please,” I said under my breath, earning
me a satisfying glare from the tall Northerner.

“As you can probably guess from the way I
speak, I’m not from around here. I’m not even from Casdanarus, but
I used to live here many centuries ago.”

“Centuries?” Rabryn asked. “So you’re a
Salynn?”

“I
was
a Salynn.”

“Was?”

“I’ll get to that,” Lisswilla replied. “I
left my homeland, Alkgwathien, nine years ago when I got the mental
call from the Deralilya for protectors to mobilize.”

“Alkgwathien?” Ortheldo said, his face
brightening. Azrel looked at him with a soft, knowing smile.

“Nine years ago?” Rabryn chimed in. I could
see a flash of concern go through his eyes before he forced a smile
at Acalith. “Are we going to see some silver hair under that tan
hood of yours?”

I thought Acalith would get upset about the
joke, but instead I was shocked to see the corners of her eyes go
up in a smile. “I was only eleven when I was chosen as the White
Warrior’s new Deralilya.”

Acalith was twenty years old. Still older
than Rabryn, but there would be no silver hairs on her head.

Lisswilla continued. “When Acalith called us
to Casdanarus I had to set out immediately because it’s a really
long way from Alkgwathien. It took me about four years to even set
foot on Casdanarus’ soil; two years of that was spent at sea.”

“Why didn’t you just magically teleport
here?” Rabryn asked. “Why walk?”

Lisswilla smiled again. “I saw how young the
Deralilya was when she called me to mobilize. I knew there was no
hurry. The White Warrior would not call an eleven-year-old to serve
her in battle. I like to travel anyway, so I took my time.

“After I got here, I kind of became a nomad.
I just started wandering around, getting used to the old familiar
sights and smells of this land. I went to visit my father for a
time, and saw some very, very old friends. I just waited until the
White Warrior crossed my path, or I hers, or I got clear direction
from her or Acalith on where to go. Finally the White Warrior
herself came to me while I slept and told me to head south of
Rocksheloc.” The corners of his eyes went up in a smile. “Where is
the first place I find her, but in the midst of a battle with
Gorkors.”

“Oh, and don’t forget about the battle Reese
and I had with the Gibirs two nights before that.”

Lisswilla sighed. “The Second Shadow is
amassing strength quickly.”

Azrel blew out a breath and ran her fingers
through her hair. “Yeah.”

No one wanted to imagine the Second Shadow
that was on the horizon. It was too much. It meant the world ending
and, honestly, Azrel was not ready to save it. She was two people
in one mind, her magic limited, her self-confidence bottomed out.
It was a really bad time for the Shadow Gods to weave their Evil
webs.

“So where in Casdanarus are you from?”
Ortheldo asked, trying to change the unfathomable subject.

As an answer, Lisswilla gave a soft sigh. He
pushed his hood back and pulled his black mask off his face. Even
I
flinched. As frequently as I’d seen him at the White
Warrior’s meetings, he never took that thing off. Now I could see
why he wore it.

Everyone’s eyes went wide with horror, but
Azrel’s and Ortheldo’s eyes were wide with horror
and
recognition. I felt, for the first time, sympathy for him.

Lisswilla was extremely fair. He had sharp
angular features that his exotic, far-set dark green eyes
complimented nicely. He had fine blonde hair that was cut at an
angle from his jaw in front and rounded down to just touch his
shoulders. The reason for our horror was the ugly, grayish-pink
scar on the right side of his face that started at the corner of
his mouth, went along his jaw line for about two inches, then
curved back upward and stopped in the middle of his cheek.

“No way,” Ortheldo said.

“You’re from ancient Triple Peaks!” Azrel
cried.

Lisswilla nodded. “Candletars, the Lord of
Triple Peaks, is my father.”

“That…that scar was from just
before
Azrel’s father’s creation!” Ortheldo cried.

Even my eyes went wide at that.

Ortheldo’s eyes flicked up to Lisswilla’s
hair. “But…your Sallybreath flowers are gone.”

“How are you alive?” Azrel breathed.

“Wait,” Rabryn interrupted, “how do you know
not only
where
he’s from, but also what
era
he’s from
by that scar?” He looked around the camp’s blank expressions and
rolled his eyes. “I’m from
The Pitt
, remember?”

Azrel looked from Rabryn to Lisswilla. “Do
you mind if I sidetrack you for a minute?”

“No, go ahead. I was going to explain
anyway.”

Azrel nodded and looked at her brother. “As
you know in my father’s was created to free the world from the
First Shadow which was led by The Nameless One, a creation of
Hathum himself. Before my father arrived, the Nameless One had
already taken over the world. It seduced good people, it lied to
good people, and it captured good people, eventually destroying the
good in them and making them a part of its Shadow army. Each time
the Shadow army took over a realm of Light, the army would give a
mark, a scar, to the survivors of that land before enslaving
them.

“The stronger and longer that a realm of
Light kept the Shadow army at bay, the more noticeable the slaves’
scars became once it was overrun.” Azrel’s eyes went to Lisswilla.
“Triple Peaks was the very
last
land in Casdanarus to resist
the Shadow army and all its influences before my father came.
Triple Peaks was a fortress, a strong hold of Goodness. Against all
odds, they kept the Shadow army, which was pretty much all of the
world at this point, at bay. I don’t even know how they managed it
for as long as they did but”—she shrugged helplessly—“eventually
they
were
overrun which is why Lisswilla’s scar is so
prominent.”