Everflame: The Complete Series

by Dylan Lee Peters

“What’s wrong?” asked Iolana.

  “You are Chera, right?”

  “Umm, yes.”

  “And you,” said Nivalia, turning to Annie. “You solved my riddle?”

  “Yes,” said Annie.

  “And you,” continued Nivalia, turning to Evercloud. “Oh Brother, I don’t even know where to begin. How are the three of you so stupid? How do you not know where the gifts are? You came all the way here to ask me the most stupid question ever.” Nivalia looked down, shook her head and began to rub her temple. “My head hurts.”

  “Look,” said Evercloud, not able to hold his frustration any longer. “If you don’t know where they are, you don’t have to be so rude about it.”

  “Me? Me?? Not know?” Nivalia threw her head back into the air and burst out with wild laughter. “Is this a joke?” she laughed. “You’ve come all this way to play a joke on me? Ahahahaha! You’re not stupid, you’re hysterical!”

  Evercloud was steaming now. He balled his fists and they ignited with flame. “This is not a joke,” he said with gritted teeth. “I know I posses the Everflame. Where are the other three gifts?”

  Nivalia stopped laughing and stared, confused, at the three travelers once again. “Oh Brother,” she said in a more serious tone. “You really don’t know.”

  “Do you know, or not?”

  “Well, I don’t know about the Evermight, but the other three gifts… those are standing right in front of me.”

  Now it was the travelers’ turn to look completely lost and confused.

  “Huh?” grunted Evercloud.

  “You have the Everflame,” said Nivalia. “It seems you already knew that, but you two,” she said staring at the two women. “You don’t know what you have, do you?”

  And just that easily, it dawned on both Annie and Iolana that they had been carrying the other gifts all along.

  “My visions,” said Annie.

  “Yes, my dear,” confirmed Nivalia. “You possess the Eversense.”

  “When I was captured by the Mess-, er, Densa,” began Iolana. “When I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move, but I was forced to watch as Densa killed Padre Esteban. He was choking Esteban and the man fell back against me. I felt a jolt from his touch, but I thought it was only my fear. It’s so obvious now. So obvious…”

  “Yes,” said Nivalia again. “Esteban Floyd gave you the Everlife.”

  “What does this mean?” asked Iolana.

  “It means what it means,” said the tiny woman. “It means you have the gifts you seek. Use them to aid in your quest. That is why you have come here, is it not?”

  “Nivalia,” began Annie. “I don’t know how to use my gift. I do not know where I received the gift; it comes and goes as it pleases. How can I control it?”

  “That, I cannot help you with,” said Nivalia. “You will have to figure that out on your own. Also, I do not know where you can find the Evermight. I only knew you had these gifts because I can sense them within you, as you stand before me. I am sorry, but this is all the help that I can give to you.”

  “Then we must continue to find the other daughters of the Skyfather,” said Evercloud.

  “Who do you seek?” asked Nivalia.

  Evercloud pulled out Strongback’s journal and pointed to the arrow in the middle of the ocean. “We do not know which daughter we will find.”

  “Ahh, you will visit Sister Tallulah. When you see three gulls flying a circle around a very small island, then you will be where you need to be.”

  “Is that all you can tell us?” asked Evercloud.

  “It is all I will tell you,” said Nivalia with a wink.

  “Then it is time for us to leave,” said Evercloud. “Thank you, Nivalia. We are in your debt.”

  “Wait,” said Iolana. “There is a question I would like to ask you, Nivalia… alone.”

  Evercloud turned to Iolana with shock and confusion etched upon his brow. “Is everything…all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Iolana. “I just– there is something… personal that I would like to know.”

  “Oh,” said Evercloud, attempting to act as though he was not bothered by Iolana’s request. “Okay. Well, Annie and I will be at the foot of the plateau.” He gave Iolana one last lingering look, and then, he and Annie turned and flew back to the bottom of the wall.

  “Nivalia,” began Iolana. “I have been having dreams.”

  “You do not know all of yourself, do you?’

  “There are things that remain… clouded.”

  “I see,” said Nivalia nodding. “Trust your dreams, Sister Chera. I know of much more than you may believe.”

  “You know of my dreams?”

  “I can guess,” said Nivalia. “Tell me, do you love him?”

  “I… yes.”

  “You are the most important thing in this world for him. You control much more than you know. Follow your heart, it knows home.”

  Iolana smiled tentatively. “Thank you, Nivalia.”

  Chapter 27: The Deviant Faith

  Those who escaped the dungeons of Chreos were pursued only half-heartedly. They were deemed unimportant by the unfeeling, war machine that the Kingdom of Chreos had become, training its young to kill and enslaving its people. The air around Chreos stank, and it wasn’t until those who had escaped were days away from the stench before they realized that they were free. Eric and Steven led more than fifty people, men, women and children, through the land of Ephanlarea. They did what they could to find supplies and wares in the burned villages they came across.

  “This is why so many people were forced into Chreos,” said Eric. “Villages were burned across Ephanlarea. People say that the Burning Man did this, but those are just fairy tales people use to explain things they don’t understand. If you ask me, Aplistia is responsible for this. He did this to drive people to Chreos so he could create a larger army.”

  “It was not Aplistia’s doing,” said Everheart.

  “You speak like a man who knows,” said Eric.

  “Tell me,” said Steven. “Do you believe in the Holy?”

  “Are you going to tell me you believe these villages were burned by a divinity?” asked Eric with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “So, you’re not a man who believes in gods,” affirmed Everheart.

  “Well, I didn’t say that. It’s just… well, no. I suppose I don’t believe that gods can influence our lives in that way.”

  “But do you believe they exist?”

  “I suppose something created all this,” said Eric gesturing toward the land. “But I don’t really believe all this rubbish about the Holy. You know, that’s what Aplistia is using as his motivation for war. The Holy. As if gods speak to him.”

  “Eric,” began Steven. “I’m going to tell you a lot of things you’re not going to believe, and I hope you don’t think less of me for it. I guess I’d just ask that you consider it, and open your mind to the possibility.”

  “Okay,” said Eric with slight concern.

  “The Holy exists, but not in the way that everyone believes. He is a monster that perpetuates fear. Myself, and those who are a part of my group, call him the Tyrant, and we quest to end his reign over this world. He is the embodiment of evil, it is he who is responsible for burning all of these villages, and I would bet it’s his tyranny of fear that motivates the mind of your king.”

  Eric didn’t move while Steven spoke. He merely stood with a perplexed look upon his face in the ash of a ruined village. He took a deep breath and then sighed. “You see…these are the things that would have been good to know before I let you lead my wife and I across half of Ephanlarea. The people you helped free never asked to become part of some weird cult.”

  “I’m not crazy, Eric. I can prove what I say.”

  “How could you possibly?”

  “Follow me to the mountain, to the Kingdom, where I and the others live. You will be convinced.”

  Eric pulled a knife from a sheath at his side and h
eld it in front of himself. “I don’t think so, Steven. I believe this is where we part. I’m going to head back to the others and I’d rather you not follow. Sorry…but…well, I think it’s for the best.”

  “Eric, don’t do this,” said Steven, taking a step toward Eric with his palms upward.

  “Don’t,” said Eric, and thrust the knife further toward Steven, in warning. Then, he began to back away and leave the ruins of the village. “Don’t follow me.”

  Steven Everheart let Eric walk many paces away from him before moving at all. But once Eric was a long distance away, Steven began to walk back to where the refugees had been camped.

  Stupid, he chastised himself. That was stupid. I said far too much.

  Once Everheart could see the refugee camp, it was obvious that Eric had roused everyone and told them that they must abandon Steven. Everyone was busy packing their tents and getting ready for a rapid exit.

  Will they attack me? Everheart wondered.

  He decided it would be most prudent to stay at a distance, unnoticed, until he came up with a plan. But a plan would never come, instead, panic throttled Steven Everheart as he looked at the horizon to the west of the refugee camp. A cloud of dust and rumbling came across the plains, and soon the detail of great, black creatures burst forth from the dust. A stampede, he thought, of Farsiders.

  “RUUNN!!!!” he screamed toward the refugee camp. “Run for cover!!”

  At once, the refugees heard his calls and stopped to see what was happening. Everheart ran toward the camp, flailing his arms to the west. As the refugees began to see what he was pointing at, they began to scream. Twenty, maybe thirty Farsiders snarled and roared as they ran toward the camp, now barely one hundred yards away. The men, women and children had no idea what to do, and scattered, taking shelter behind the few tents that were still erected.

  No, thought Everheart. They’ll kill you. But the harsh reality of the refugees’ location was unavoidable. They were miles away from any real shelter; open targets in the wide expanse of the Ephanlarean plains. Steven Everheart was helpless; the refugees were helpless. The Farsiders would slay them all.

  Like a wave, the Farsiders crashed into the tents, trampling over a few refugees as everyone scattered in panic. Everheart had now reached the camp and dove at the flank of a Farsider with his brandished blade. The massive creature wheeled on him, knocking him to the ground like a bothersome insect. The fell beast snarled, spraying him with its rancid saliva. Steven Everheart knew he had met his end.

  From the corner of his eye, Steven saw a streak come through the azure sky like the furious gash of a bitter ending. The Farsiders raised their heads and their eyes grew wide like stunned warriors who meet their deaths too soon. The streak met the earth and the ground quaked in the impact. Dust billowed up to meet the air like the battle drums of an impending war, and the Farsiders all cowed with fear, for they recognized the presence that had returned to them.

  “I have done much that is wrong,” said a voice from the dust. “It is time to atone.”

  A blur emerged from the dust and struck the Farsider that stood over Steven Everheart. Before the creature could react, it burst into dust in the air. Realizing their fate, the other Farsiders shrieked and moaned, and the refugees huddled with their loved ones in terror. The brief moments that flitted by while the beasts howled their primal pleas for mercy were like a tornado to Steven Everheart. His brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. He had accepted imminent death, and now, he was saved, all of the refugees were saved. He watched, stunned and immobile, as the blur beat the Farsiders into clouds of dust, as if they were nothing more than nightmares in the imagination of a child. When the last black monster had been destroyed, the savior of the refugees stood with his fists clenched, breathing heavily as the winds blew the dust across the Ephanlarean plains. Steven Everheart, as well as many refugees, slowly climbed up from the ground and out of their places of hiding, and formed a circle around the large man.

  “Who are you?” asked Everheart.

  “I am the son of the moon,” murmured Densa as he looked down into the grassland. The refugees were left speechless. They struggled to conceive of a world in which what they had seen could be real. Everheart knew how they felt, just as he had when a bear in a cage had begun to speak to him. It was an immense feeling of fear that was contradicted by a heightened sense that any hope was now possible. Steven Everheart knew this was his chance to gain the trust of the refugees once again.

  “Thank you, Moon Son. We are in your debt. If there is anything we can do for you, just ask.”

  Densa looked at the man with a furrowed brow, and then, toward the others who surrounded him. “I am searching for a man who is called Evercloud. Do you know of him?”

  “Yes,” said Everheart in happy amazement. “We travel to see him now. We would be very grateful if you accompanied us on our journey.”

  “Why do you seek him?” asked Densa.

  “These are refugees from the Kingdom of Chreos. Their king, a man named Aplistia, is enslaving his people and claiming that it is the will of the Holy.”

  “The Holy?” asked Densa with curiosity. “This man speaks with the Holy?”

  “He claims to. Yes,” answered Everheart. “These refugees travel to live with the others who live upon Gray Mountain, where Evercloud lives. I can bring you to him.”

  “No,” said Densa, staring at the northern horizon. “I will go to Chreos and speak with this Aplistia.”

  And with no more words, Densa took to the sky like a streak, leaving Everheart and the refugees shrouded in mystery and confusion. A hand found its way to Steven’s shoulder and words found their way to his ears.

  “I’m sorry,” spoke the voice of Eric.

  “It’s all right,” said Everheart. “I might have reacted in the same way.”

  “But I need to know,” said Eric in a deadpan tone. “Just what have you gotten us involved in?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Everheart.

  •••

  And so the refugees of Chreos followed Steven Everheart along the second leg of the journey to Gray Mountain. They listened to the unbelievable story he weaved, unable to take their attention away for a moment.

  “If I hadn’t seen those creatures and that man with my own eyes, I wouldn’t be able to believe any of this,” said Eric, shaking his head as he and Steven walked in the forest with the refugees of Chreos. “Who was that man? I know he said the son of the moon, but, really?”

  “I learned from King Eveneye that there were four ancient beings who are our creators. I think he may have been one of them. I think that he is Densa.”

  “So, let me try to order this in my mind,” said Eric. “We were not created by the Holy, as everyone believes, but he does exist, and is known to the other creatures of the world as an evil tyrant.”

  “Yes,” answered Everheart.

  “And I may or may not have just met my maker?”

  “That’s my guess, but that’s just it, Eric. The thing that’s really woken me up during this whole experience is that no one really knows the truth. No one knows the complete history of our world, no one has every answer, and the people who are so certain that they do, are the ones furthest from the truth.”

  “It’s scary to think how little we really know about everything.”

  “Exactly. That’s exactly what the Great Tyrant has taken advantage of. It’s terrifying to not know what waits for us around the next bend, and even more terrifying to realize we don’t even know how any of this began. The Tyrant uses our fear against us by giving us false answers to ease that fear, and he uses that power to make us do what he wants. No matter how wrong it may seem, most people are too afraid to face the reality of not knowing. The majority of people in our world have decided that believing lies is better than having nothing to believe.”

  “And that’s why they cling to those beliefs so violently,” realized Eric. “They understand that they stand upon unstab
le ground, so they have to be constantly vigilant to keep up the image of stability.”

  “Yes. The truly sad thing is that people have taken to the belief that it’s not enough to just have faith in themselves and those they love. Just because we don’t know the great mysteries of our world does not mean we are weak and unworthy creatures. In fact, I believe the opposite. I think it shows how truly powerful we are. I think it shows our great strength, our great spirit, and a man does not have to grovel at the feet of some ancient being to be filled with that spirit.”

  “A slave to none, physically nor mentally. You are not alone in that desire.”

  “I know, and that is why I feel the need to reach people as I did with you, in Chreos.”

  “Because there are others.”

  “Yes, and we should not be colored as rebels and outcasts. We who believe in self are not evil; we are not lost. I see more clearly now than I ever have in my life. It is not wrong to question, it is not wrong to deviate, and I am no infidel. I possess great faith. I have faith in mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters. Our hearts hold fire.”

  Steven Everheart stopped walking. He and the refugees of Chreos had reached a point where Steven recognized the forests that surround Gray Mountain.

  “Why do we stop?” asked Eric.

  “From this point, head directly east. Whomever stops you, give them my name, you will be safe.”

  “You are not coming with us to the mountain?”

  “You’ve reminded me of something, Eric. There are others. Others that need to know that they have options.”

  Eric shook his head and gave Steven a parting smile. “And you still claim to be only a man?”

  “Maybe a bit different than others,” smiled Everheart. “Then again, maybe not so different.”

  Chapter 28: Weapons of the Suffering

  Click, clack, click.

  Callderwallder tightened the last bolt upon one of the metallic men. When he had finished, he stepped back from his work and stood among the team of metal workers Faedra had assembled for him.