Gods and Heroes- Rise of Fire

by Brendan Wright

  No. That will achieve nothing. They already know. Returning now would only assure your death.

  He sighed. Of course they would already know. The Duulshen knew everything that happened in their forests. The only way he could survive was to be faster than whomever they sent after him. If he reached Tarsium before he was caught, he could disappear into the teeming crowds and be lost to the elders forever.

  But the words on the black blade pulsed and throbbed in his mind as he held the sword. Even if he got away, he would live the rest of his life a cowardly traitor. Even if he became as powerful as he dreamed, was it worth the crime he'd committed?

  Reach into the blade. Feel its power.

  He did; the Kaizuun reacted to his will. Energy flowed into him. He felt as though he'd slept the entire night. Alert, and ready for the journey ahead. He felt more certain about his decision. He could leave the Shenza, start again. Their hate wouldn't effect him if he never saw them again. The power flowing through his body wiped misery away like a river swept away a fallen leaf.

  That is a fraction of the power to be found in the deserts of Omas. The blades of the Shenza are nothing compared to the magic of the Thearans. You will see.

  Reassured, he ran west again. The Kaizuun propelled his spirit and his muscles, and he sprinted through the forest until the sun sank low on the horizon. A pang of uncertainty remained in his mind; the image of his little sister's face, crying and reaching for him. He tried to outrun it, pushing harder and harder until the forest became a blur around him. That night, sleep eluded him once again.

  Dakesh reached the west coast of Shanaken three days after running from the battle against the Ermoori. The journey would normally have taken him a week, but with the Kaizuun in hand he ran much faster and for longer. There were no ports this far north that offered transport, only small fishing villages with their own piers for bringing in fresh hauls. He approached one of them, hoping the fishers wouldn't notice the Kaizuun sheathed at his hip; he put the Shadow Blade in his own sheath, and slipped his old sword into his belt on the opposite side when he took Kailen's.

  The hilt of the Shadow Blade was marked with runes, and was far nicer than his old sword; but the sheath helped to make it less obvious. He still looked odd with two swords on his belt, and felt even more odd than he looked. One of the fishers noticed him, and waved. He returned the greeting, and walked up to her.

  "Greetings, friend," Dakesh said.

  "Greetings, brother. What brings a Kaizeluun to our humble village?"

  Dakesh's heart sank. Of course the blade would be noticed; even among the Shenza, the Kaizuun were rare and revered. The fisher watched him. He wore a standard Daishen tunic; mottled grey, brown and green with a solid brown sash over his waist. He wasn't dressed in the sleeveless black tunic of the Kaizeluun, and didn't have the tattoos. He had two options, as far as he could determine: try to lie and bluff his way onto a fishing boat, and sail to Tarsium; or kill the fishers and take a boat by force. All Shenza were trained as warriors, and even fishers carried their swords on them wherever they went; but he had a Shadow Blade now. Even without the tattoos of the Kaizeluun granting him magic and mastery over the Kaizuun, he could still use its magic to a lesser degree. Even without training, the blade made him stronger and faster than any other Shenza.

  He took a deep breath, and stared back at the fisher with as much confidence as he could muster.

  "I'm being sent on a mission to Tarsium. No one must know I am Kaizeluun. No one must know I was here. I need one of your boats; a transport is too dangerous."

  The fisher's face went pale. Her eyes were wide. She believes me! He thought, trying to hide his excitement.

  "Of course, anything for the Kaizeluun."

  Aella

  Aella twirled around a training spear, ducked under a blunted short sword and leapt, still twirling, over a second spear. She parried, dodged and countered endlessly. The four young Thearans sparring against her were starting to lose their temper. She was fifteen, and far more confident about showing her abilities. She’d also grown into her body, and her muscles were far stronger; she was a far better fighter now, and she was already one of the best in the tribe.

  She used both of her short swords openly now, and didn’t hide her speed or skill. Athan didn’t take the change well. They'd drifted apart over the last year or so, and they very rarely sparred together now. The four young warriors she was training with were relatively new friends, and two of them only joined their tribe about half a year before. One of those, a boy of fourteen named Erasmus, showed an interest in her immediately; she returned it. They talked every day and she enjoyed his company far more than she would have predicted. His combat skills were severely lacking, however; sparring against the four of them felt more to her like sparring against two or three. She barely needed to use both of her swords.

  Though quiet, Aella was a little more social than Athanasius, and while he withdrew from the whole tribe, she started to gain more friends. She attracted the attention of many of the adults in the tribe as well; now that she wasn’t hiding her combat skills, the older warriors noticed what she could do. She was still closely guarding her two magic swords, however. Her mother was wise to advise her to keep the Fire Blades hidden. Although Kerberos had been their leader for four years, she still didn’t trust him or the zealots who followed him. Athan was spending most of his time with the Warleader, and though they no longer spoke as often, she was worried for him.

  She saw Athanasius training one-on-one with Kerberos most days. His skills in combat were improving drastically. She also noticed that Kerberos watched her sparring on several occasions and seemed to give her a particularly intense stare whenever she was training. She was fine with the attention, as long as no one but her, Athan and her parents knew about the Fire Blades. She hoped Athan wasn't getting close enough to Kerberos to tell him about them.

  They did seem to be getting very close, however. She began to notice they weren't just sparring together; Athan spent every meal at Kerberos' campfire, and plenty of time in Kerberos' tent alone with the terrifying tribe leader. Aella hoped he knew what he was doing. Kerberos was perhaps the most dangerous person in Pandeia. If they were lovers, as she suspected they must be, Athan shouldn’t be in any danger; but with someone as mysterious and brutal as Kerberos, there was no way to be certain.

  Her mind had wandered too far, and one of the wooden spears slammed into her chest. She was knocked to her feet, dazed and fighting to inhale. Natasa, the warrior who landed the blow, dropped her spear and rushed to Aella's side.

  "Aella, are you hurt?" she asked, sounding terrified. "I didn't expect you to miss that thrust! I was just trying to distract you so Timothea could land a killing stroke!"

  Aella finally managed to breathe again. She coughed, and then laughed. "I am fine, Natasa. My mind wandered, that's all. You put a lot of strength into that thrust; I would have expected a feint to be a little gentler!" The girls laughed, and Erasmus smiled distantly too. He might have guessed her mind was on Athan; he was jealous of the close friendship she shared with him, and his jealousy didn't let up even after her and Athan started drifting apart. He seemed to have trouble accepting that their friendship was purely platonic. She quickly grew sick of the argument. It was one of the reasons she no longer went out of her way to speak with Athan; Erasmus grew bitter every time she spoke with him. Athan seemed jealous too, and his withdrawing hurt her far more than Erasmus' petty arguments.

  She stood and gingerly touched a hand to her chest, testing for breaks or cuts. It hurt, and she would have an impressive bruise, but other than that it was fine. She stretched, wincing as the muscles in her chest screamed. She could continue to fight through the pain if she wanted to, but decided to rest for the remainder of the day instead. The five warriors wandered to a campfire near their tents and sat down together.

  The campfires were more than just places to eat since Kerberos took control. They were almost sacred now; used as shrine
s to Sithares, places to pray and burn offerings to their Fire God. They no longer required wood to burn, either; every Thearan had the ability to conjure a handful of fire which could burn for at least an hour. Several warriors would gather and set their fires together to build a larger campfire. The combined magic helped them burn longer, and they would tend to it as needed, each throwing another handful of fire onto the blaze occasionally.

  Since their magic was awoken, campfires were a far more common sight. Wood was scarce in the Omasi desert, and although they always found enough to burn for cooking, they could now set campfires as freely and easily as they wanted. Aella gathered a ball of fire in her palm as she sat with the others. She held her cupped hand above the campfire and tipped it in a pouring motion, letting the magic fire spill slowly like water. It was a difficult trick, and Erasmus always laughed and shook his head when she performed it in front of him. This time, however, he was staring vacantly into the fire as Aella's magic slowly trickled away.

  A few more years passed. Athan and Aella were almost completely estranged. Her and Erasmus became lovers, and his passion for her outweighed the sense of loss she felt for Athan's friendship. He also didn't mind that she was obviously far superior to him in combat, which meant she could spar against him and several other warriors and he never got upset or angry when she won. They hunted together every day, shared the same tent, and spent most of their time together. He was kind and loving, and Aella was happy. Occasionally, though, she thought about Athan and how close they used to be. She missed him dearly, and it frustrated her that he couldn't get past his own jealousy and pride and remain her friend. And it frustrated her more that even if Athan had been able to move past his problems, Erasmus was too jealous to allow them to be friends. It was the one thing about Erasmus she didn’t love. She found it difficult to get too mad at him about it now though. If Athan had actually wanted to stay friends with her, she would have fought Erasmus tooth and nail to keep his friendship; but since he withdrew, Erasmus' jealousy was just another excuse to leave Athan to his own devices. Besides, he seemed to be quite happy with Kerberos.

  Oblivious to her thoughts, Erasmus beamed like a child as they sat by the fire, eating dried greysnake meat. Their sparring match was intense that day, and Erasmus actually managed to hit Aella under the ribs with the flat of his sword, and again on her thigh. Of course it was while she was fending off four other warriors, and she still won the match, but looking at his face anyone would think he'd bested her single-handedly. She laughed, and at the sound his grin widened even more. She laughed harder and he joined in.

  "You know that still doesn't count as you beating me, right?" she laughed.

  "What about now?" he countered, launching himself at her. They tumbled to the ground, rolling until Erasmus was on top of her. He pinned her wrists to the ground, and although she could easily have overpowered him, she enjoyed letting him hold her down. It felt nice to give up her strength to someone she trusted. He kissed her suddenly, and her whole body tingled. She let out a quiet moan, and he kept kissing her. She felt him grow hard against her, and her body responded with the tingling, tense feeling of anticipation she’d become used to around him. She wanted him all the time, so much that he occasionally had trouble keeping up with her. There was no such trouble now, however; she felt him, large and pulsing, grinding slowly against her. She moaned again. He rose to his knees suddenly, pulling her hide pants up to her knees and his own down to the ground.

  She saw his hard member briefly and it brought a flush of fresh lust to her; she was dripping wet and breathing heavily. He entered her gently and she gasped. He was always gentle at first, which she loved about him, but he was large and no matter how gentle he was, it always made her gasp. He slid deeper slowly, staring into her eyes until he was completely inside of her. He pulled back and she whimpered as he pushed slowly forward again. He held the back of her head with one hand and cradled her breast with the other, gently squeezing as his thrusts gradually picked up speed. Her gasps grew loud, turning into moans.

  They kissed, and Aella's lips felt like lightning. She pushed her fingers into his hair and held on. Their faces were close, their breath mingling. Even his breath on her face and neck felt like the dancing sparks above a fire. They were breathing in unison now, and the camp-site around them disappeared until nothing existed but the two of them and the place where they became one. Aella felt the fire within her building, being stoked by their passion; every thrust feeding the flames. The thrusts became harder and faster, filling her completely and building the fire up until she could no longer contain it; as she climaxed, she lost control of the magic within her, and the two lovers burst into flame as Erasmus continued thrusting even harder.

  She screamed his name, her entire body burning. Waves of pleasure as intense as the fire itself overcame her, and she lost herself to it. Erasmus wasn't slowing down, and she stared into his eyes in shock as another climax swept through her body. She heard the rushing sound of fire over their ragged breathing, and heard it boom with each climax. He started moaning, and she felt him swell inside her, becoming even harder. She screamed again, and her body shuddered uncontrollably.

  They climaxed together then, and after the fire went out they lay next to their tent until their heartbeats returned to a steady rhythm. She held Erasmus close, and whispered in his ear.

  “I love you.” He kissed her and said it back. Finally, they stood and retired to the tent to sleep.

  The next day, when they sparred, Erasmus didn't land any hits on her. He wasn't disappointed at all. That night they made love under the stars again.

  Thorinos

  Thorinos Argyris was the wealthiest man in Omatus. Many said he was also the most powerful man in the city, despite not sitting on the throne. For all that, he sat halfway down the massive table in the Argyris Feast Hall, seething and feeling far from powerful. One of his offspring was missing, and the youngest was hiding behind a thick book, ignoring the food and the company. His second son, Alliphis, sat to his right, observing all the etiquette and charm his father taught him. It wasn't hard to see why Alliphis was the favourite son. He looked the most like his father, was ambitious, strong, and talented when it came to winning friends and allies. Anamas, Thorinos' youngest, was the complete opposite. He looked so much like his mother people often mistook him for a girl. He was small and weak, with no social skills to speak of. He spent all of his time reading silently. Thorinos had no idea how to fix him, deciding instead to spend his time and energy on Alliphis. His favourite son was going to turn into a great man, and would sit the Omati throne after him once Thorinos took it back from the Megalos family. He would make sure of it.

  And then there was Atillus. Thorinos had no idea how to fix his oldest son either. Atillus took after Thorinos in all but intelligence and ambition. He was big for his age, and would have been strong too if he bothered learning combat like Alliphis. He had the Kingly, authoritative looking facial structure Thorinos and Alliphis possessed. He also occasionally displayed hints of intelligence, but he was so vague and absent-minded that any intelligence he may have was wasted. And the most frustrating thing about Atillus was his constant disappearances, especially during events such as feasts and carnivals. At fifteen, Thorinos thought his oldest son would attend feasts if only for the many high-born girls. He started disappearing around five or six years ago, if Thorinos remembered correctly, and he still didn't know where the boy was going. Truth be told, he didn't much care as long as he didn't damage the Argyris family name.

  Shaking his head, Thorinos returned his focus to the feast. His beautiful wife, Eirene, was sitting to his left, and asked him to pass her a side dish of marinated olives.

  "Of course," he smiled and handed her the food along with a quick kiss on her cheek. She looked at him in that piercing, knowing way she had and put her hand on his forearm.

  "What's wrong, my love?" She asked. He sighed. She always knew.

  "Atillus," he said, tension tight
ening his voice. "Why must he be so difficult?" Eirene smiled sadly, gently squeezing his forearm. She hesitated, obviously mulling over a response. It was something he admired in his wife; she was incredibly diplomatic, and could calm even the wildest arguments with the perfect choice of words.

  "He isn't being difficult, Thorinos," she said evenly, "he's just being himself. He's still young, and finding his path." Thorinos shook his head again.

  "Alliphis is younger, and already all but equipped to sit the throne, Eirene!"

  "Yes, and that's Alliphis' path. Not everyone is meant to rule, my love. If that were so, how would everyone else be ruled? You should feel lucky that our three sons aren't fighting each other for the right to rule; the Megalos family's sons are constantly fighting. I'm grateful every day that our children didn't turn out that way."

  "But that's the problem exactly, Eirene; Atillus is not a ruler. But he's the oldest son, and when I get the throne back, he'll be the next King. I'm trying to restore our family's name to its former glory. How can I do that if my useless son is wearing the crown?"

  "So spend some time with him, Thorinos. Teach him. Help him. You're his father, only you can turn him into the man you want him to be."

  Thorinos frowned and grunted in begrudging agreement. Her argument made sense; but Atillus simply didn’t have what it took to be a King. His anger far from quelled, Thorinos tried to think of a solution that didn't involve Atillus taking the throne. At that moment, the doors to the feast hall opened and Atillus walked in quietly, with a large Thearan warrior striding confidently next to him. Thorinos' frown grew even deeper; He'd seen this mysterious golden-eyed warrior occasionally over the last few years, mostly wandering alone through the grand markets of Omatus on days when Thorinos was supervising the stores he owned. He had no idea what the Thearan was doing in the Argyris family feast hall, least of all with his oldest son.