Awaken Online- Flame

by Travis Bagwell

  While he had little compassion for the Emir’s men, they might also be valuable.

  “By that same reasoning, Altair and his men could be useful,” Finn offered.

  Aerys’ eyes snapped to his, anger flashing there briefly. “Those men are responsible for many of our dead. They have hunted us across the sands like vermin. They will die here in the sun – experiencing the same fate as many of our own people.”

  Finn met her gaze calmly. “Indeed. And yet… I heard murmurs among them as we entered the camp. Men and women repeating the name of the prophet. I see men whose faith has been shaken; that could be broken. What is more valuable to you? Short-term revenge or potential converts – spies that may linger in the heart of your enemy’s camp?”

  He saw Aerys’ eyes widen then, even his daughter glancing at him in surprise.

  Finn might have gone a little off-script…

  “Besides, if you were to allow them to return with us, that would also hide the Khamsin’s involvement here. If the Emir betrays us, that may help keep your people hidden,” Finn offered. “He would never know that you were here. Just as you ambushed the caravan at the ridge, your kind are in their element when striking from the obscurity of the sands – when your opponent cannot see you coming.”

  “You think you understand our people after only a few short weeks in this world?” Aerys retorted, indignation coloring her voice.

  “He might not, but I do,” Julia interjected. “You know as well as I do that he speaks the truth. Our kind are spread out, disorganized, existing and operating as separate, fragmented clans. We rely upon discretion as much as raw power and planning. Remember when Jahal overextended with the merchant trade caravans? The Emir sent several divisions of soldiers and conscripted a dozen mages, wiping out his clan.”

  Aerys grimaced, chewing on what they were saying with distaste. However, Finn could still see pragmatism winning out against the anger shining in her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I see the logic of your words, even if I wish to cut into their purple necks myself.”

  Her eyes drifted to Finn, and he saw respect there, mixing with the anger and the bloodlust. “So, you would have us release the champions, release the guards, let you travel back to Lahab to hand our greatest enemy his treasure. And all for the good of the clans?”

  “Yes, yes, I would,” Finn answered simply.

  “Then perhaps I was right before. Either you’re a genius or a madman with the gods’ favor on your side,” Aerys said evenly.

  “Why not both?” Finn asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

  “That would be better. I have a feeling that you may need both inspiration and fortune for what’s coming next,” Aerys retorted, no amusement coloring her expression.

  She sighed, and then…

  “So be it,” the dour woman snapped. “You shall have your beetles and your soldiers. We will smooth your passage through the sands, and you will leave at first light.”

  “Good,” Finn said, rising to his feet, the others following his lead.

  He turned to leave, heading back to Kyyle, but Aerys touched his arm. He turned back to see her gazing at him intently. “Prophet or not, do not make me regret this,” she warned. “You hold the fate of our people in your hands.”

  “Trust me,” Finn replied evenly. “I do not take any of this lightly, and we have as much or more to lose. If the Emir betrays us, then we will burn down everything he cares about. We will make him suffer.”

  I would do nothing less for Rachael.

  Finn felt his fire mana begin to simmer in his veins. The metal in his eyes heated behind the bandages, flickers of flame licking at his skin. His fiery crown and the floating metal spheres beside him also seemed to respond to his conviction, flaring brightly and pushing back at the shadows that lingered around the camp.

  A smile slowly stretched across Aerys’ lips. “Good. As should be expected of a true prophet of the flame – the Najmat Alhidad,” she said, her voice growing louder.

  As that name echoed across the camp, it was picked up by the other Khamsin that lingered around them. Their voices rose once more, mixing with the crackle of glass and the roar of the flames that still spewed from the pit. They beat their chests, the sound like a war drum as they shouted into the night air. He could hear the anger, pain, and hope in their voices – that passion resonating with something deep inside himself; reflected in the fires of his own soul.

  They called out a name – his name.

  The Najmat Alhidad.

  The Mourning Star.

  Chapter 51 - Prescient

  The beetle below Finn slid to a stop, sending up a puff of sand. With a tug of his wrist, he pulled the wrap down from his face and nose, raising his hand to ward off the harsh sunlight as he peered at the city that lay before him. The gates of Lahab loomed up into the air, and guards dotted the parapets, hazy black outlines against the worn sandstone walls.

  Finn slid from his saddle, swiftly followed by his companions.

  “Looks like you’re adjusting to beetle travel,” Julia commented in a dry voice.

  Finn shot her a glance and a grin. “It suddenly doesn’t seem so bad – not after everything else anyway. Or maybe it’s the change to my eyes and sinuses? Something to do with my balance?”

  “I’m just glad we made it here without incident,” Kyyle murmured from beside them. “Our luck doesn’t seem that great lately.”

  “Well, we still need to hand this damn gem to the Emir. And somehow navigate this city without getting ambushed by the guilds,” Finn observed. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunity for this world to try to kill us a few more times.”

  Julia barked out a soft laugh. “Plus, once Kalisha and Malik catch up, I’m sure they’ll want their pound of flesh.” This earned her an amused smile from Kyyle.

  They had left the other champions a few miles back, dropping them into the sands, their hands still bound and with no water. The pair hadn’t been terribly happy with that outcome – Kalisha voicing her complaints quite loudly. For his part, Malik had just scowled at them, which was as close as the stoic warrior got to shouting. Luckily, the sand and wind had swiftly carried away their complaints and obscured them from sight.

  Finn wasn’t taking any chance, not at this point. They couldn’t risk showing up with the pair bound and hog-tied for fear the guilds would intervene, or they might escape. Besides, the risk that the pair would be attacked or injured was small this close to the city.

  Finn wasn’t happy about traveling with Altair and his guards either – the purple-liveried soldiers swarming around them as they dismounted and started to herd the beetles toward the walls of the city. Despite having disabled his crown and dismissed his floating orbs, the soldiers’ eyes kept flitting to Finn, the men whispering among themselves. They had been grateful at not being baked alive out upon the sands, and many had begun to treat Finn like some sort of messiah… but he still didn’t trust easily. Not anymore.

  Not with what was at stake.

  As though his thoughts had summoned the man, Altair marched toward their group. He looked better, his skin having recovered during the ride back, and the welts along his wrists had nearly healed. Although, his tan seemed darker than usual, and he looked worn down. His shoulders sagged and there was a heaviness to his voice.

  “It appears we made it here in one piece,” Altair observed. His eyes drifted to the gate. “And it looks like the Emir sent a full division to escort you to the palace,” the guard captain added. Indeed, Finn could see a few dozen soldiers had marched out of the gate, now standing with their backs rigid and their armor gleaming in the sun.

  “Fantastic,” he murmured, feeling conflicted.

  Are they here to protect us or make sure we don’t make a break for it?

  “I would like to thank you again – personally – for saving me and my men,” Altair added, his voice lowering. Finn’s eyes snapped back to the soldier and saw that he had bowed his hea
d. When he raised his eyes again, Finn saw respect shining there. “Know that you will have my loyalty until my blood debt is paid.”

  The truth of the man’s conviction swirled through his body, a mixture of light and fire mana flashing through his limbs. Finn was coming to like his newfound sight.

  “I appreciate that,” Finn replied, bowing his head. “For now, I only ask that you keep your eyes and ears open. I’m not certain how this meeting with the Emir will go… but I’m expecting the worst,” Finn murmured.

  Altair’s brow furrowed. “Which would entail what exactly?”

  Julia just shrugged. “Hard to say. We seem to attract trouble. Somewhere between endless death gauntlet and getting trapped at the bottom of the Abyss is my guess.”

  This earned her a grimace from the guard captain before his attention flitted back to Finn. “Regardless, we stand with you, Najmat Alhidad.” He raised a fist to his chest, and then the soldier pivoted on his heel and marched back to his men.

  “I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to that,” Kyyle muttered under his breath.

  Julia let out a chuckle. “Ten bucks says Finn lets it go to his head and starts making us beat our chests and chant at him.”

  Finn just sighed and started toward the gate, his companions trailing behind him and chuckling softly. He paid them no mind, his attention instead on the bright spot of yellow energy that pulsed among the neat ranks and rows of soldiers lining the arch leading into the city. He knew of only one person capable of that dense cluster of air mana.

  As Finn neared, Abbad approached him, the librarian’s expression perfectly stoic. The man practically shone with air mana; his body was composed almost entirely of the topaz energy – signifying an incredibly high affinity. Finn could see Abbad’s attention flit to his eyes, observing the bandage there. The soldiers around them had also noted that strip of cloth and their eyes widened imperceptibly before they snapped back to attention.

  Finn couldn’t help but recall Aerys’ cryptic words. Apparently, a dirty strip of his swiftly disappearing novice tunic was described in prophecy. Go figure.

  “Finn,” Abbad said curtly.

  “Abbad.”

  “Hello to you too, scroll-smuggler,” Julia chimed from behind Finn. “I’ve been good, thanks for asking. We only almost died horribly like a dozen times. It was a great trip.”

  Abbad ignored Julia’s comments. “I take it you were successful?”

  There was a strange weight to the librarian’s question, an ominous quality to those simple words that made Finn’s brow furrow. Yet he detected no quaver or ripple across Abbad’s mana. Strange.

  “We were,” Finn answered. “We’re ready to complete the competition.”

  He made no mention of Kalisha or Malik – or the Khamsin. He still wasn’t certain whose side Abbad was really on. Finn’s? The Emir’s? Or was he trying to achieve his own objective – freedom for the mages? Although, that assumed the man had spoken truthfully back during the Duels. Finn couldn’t help but wonder if the librarian’s motives were truly consistent with his own. He certainly hoped so.

  “Good, then we will escort you to the palace,” Abbad answered, waving at the guards.

  The soldiers swiftly encircled the group, and they started to march through the city. However, Finn and his companions didn’t relax. They were on edge, their eyes constantly scanning the crowd of residents hovering by the gate and the heavily armed soldiers that marched in formation around them. It felt like they were walking back into the enemy’s camp, marching toward the stocks, and Finn couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in his stomach.

  Perhaps he could at least glean some information before this fateful meeting.

  “Your parting gift was useful,” Finn offered quietly as they walked, keeping his words circumspect given the number of prying ears nearby. He noticed Julia and Kyyle perk up, but they kept quiet, listening intently.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Abbad murmured back, tilting his head slightly. “Did you complete its contents?”

  “I did. Although, I was troubled by its conclusion.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, it ended in an unsatisfying way,” Finn replied. “It left me feeling as though it were incomplete.”

  Abbad nodded. “That is the way with stories – as with life – we rarely get the closure we desire. How do you believe it ended?”

  Finn chewed on that for a moment. Just before Bilel’s passages had stopped, the mage had been sick, slowly dying… He seemed desperate and angry. A recipe for destruction. And it was clear that the Seer’s temple had been destroyed by something – or someone. The amount of power needed to form the Abyss and surrounding plateau had to have come from the mana well, that was the only explanation that made sense.

  “I believe it ended the way it began, in chaos and pain,” Finn replied cautiously.

  There was a pause as Abbad ruminated on that comment, the palace walls approaching ever closer as they marched quickly through the city. Residents peered at the passing caravan, their eyes hidden behind thick cloth, following Finn and his companions with unerring focus. They seemed curious; hopeful. Finn observed the insignia of the merchants and fighters mingled among the crowd, and their stares were more openly hostile. Julia’s hand hovered at her lance, her fingers gripping the hilt tightly.

  “So, you believe that the story has an ending? That is curious,” Abbad answered finally.

  Finn’s attention shot back to the librarian. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  “The Emir is anxious to meet with you. He’s been speaking of it for days. The pillar of flame from the Abyss was visible even here in Lahab,” the librarian continued smoothly, waving at the residents around him. “It has the people on edge, wondering if they are about to witness a transition of power – one that is a long time coming. The Emir has ruled this land for a long, long time. They are filled with fear, anxiety, and hope.

  “Change can be frightening, uncertain.”

  Finn hesitated for a moment, picking up on some subtext to Abbad’s words, but he didn’t feel he understood the man’s intent. “The future is always uncertain,” he offered tentatively. “And it typically isn’t a straight sprint to the finish line. We are not bound to a particular path and are sometimes forced off the road entirely.”

  For once, a snort of amusement drifted from the librarian’s lips, his eyes drifting to walls of the palace – his gaze distant as though his thoughts were far away. “I wonder if you fully understand the irony of that statement. For many, we merely have the illusion of choice. Our path has been laid out for us since birth, the river of time streaming through a carefully constructed channel. We might struggle at the bank, but our efforts are feeble – fruitless,” Abbad said, a faint note of bitterness tinging his voice.

  “Do you really believe that?” Finn asked, arching an eyebrow. “That our fate is sealed and certain? That we have no say in the matter?” He certainly hoped that wasn’t the case; he didn’t trust the Seer to have laid out a path for him.

  The group came to a stop in front of the palace gates, and Abbad turned to face Finn fully, his expression perfectly neutral and his mana calm. “I honestly cannot say for certain,” he murmured.

  The librarian paused for a moment, his gaze drifting away from Finn. “I told you once, long ago, that a man faces two questions in life. Do you remember them?”

  Finn nodded. He hadn’t forgotten that conversation. “What is your goal? And what are you willing to sacrifice for it?”

  “Precisely,” Abbad said with a curt nod, his eyes shifting back to Finn. “I believe that if we do have some control over our own fate, then those are the first two questions that we must answer. A first step in determining whether a man can claim his own destiny – to scrabble and claw at the well-worn banks of his own fate.”

  The librarian peered at Finn as though searching for something. “What price are you willing to pay for your goal?”

  Finn stared back
at him through eyes replaced with solid metal; with flesh, muscle, and bone that had been torn, cut, and burnt; with his skin covered in sweat and dirt accumulated over days and weeks. He had weathered the flame and the pit, pushed him to the very edge of his own limits, and then passed them. Searched his soul and been forced to face his own flaws – had sought to overcome them. And in the process, he had been reforged, a blade tempered by the flames and sharpened by adversity.

  The answer to that question was the same as it had ever been.

  He had proven that to himself already.

  “Anything. Everything,” Finn replied firmly.

  Abbad hesitated. For only a fraction of a second, Finn saw the librarian’s mana fluctuate, a faint ray of white light rippling through the yellow energy. Then the librarian nodded. “Let us hope it is so.”

  Then with a wave of the librarian’s hand, the gates were split wide, parallel lines of purple-liveried soldiers greeting them and lining the road leading to the palace proper, carving a path straight to the Emir: a perfect channel leading Finn to his destiny.

  Leading him to Rachael.

  Chapter 52 - Tyrannical

  The doors to the Emir’s throne room slid open on well-oiled hinges, only a whisper of sound drifting through the enormous chamber on the other side. The hall stretched on for nearly a hundred feet, soldiers lining its walls – their backs rigid and eyes following the group. The throne room terminated in a wall composed entirely of multi-colored glass that soared twenty feet into the air. The windows gave a glimpse of the southern horizon, a sea of sand viewed through a rainbow lens of colors that swirled in a circular, abstract pattern. The view was only made possible by the height of the structure, the throne room towering well above the city’s walls.