Everflame: The Complete Series

by Dylan Lee Peters

  “Stop!”

  The machines halted and backed away, and the entire crowd made way for Queen Faedra as she strode forward. She picked her sword up, off of the ground, and looked down upon the broken body of Steven Everheart.

  “You are a vile thing,” cried Everheart in his pain. “You are no queen.”

  “What is that thing upon your chest?” asked the Queen as she scowled at the man.

  “It is the Everflame. It is true power. It is not fear; it is freedom.” Steven spit at the queen though he could not move his body. “I live by the Everflame!” he roared.

  “And you shall die by it,” said the Queen, and brought her sword down upon Steven Everheart’s neck.

  •••

  High in the palace of Nefas, Callderwallder sat in the tower, eyes closed, commanding his army. He had just finished ushering the citizens back to their homes, after the death of the tattooed man, when a hum and rattle came from behind.

  “They think that I don’t see what they do.”

  Callderwallder turned from where he sat upon the balcony, a pink and orange sunset growing behind him, and faced the form of the Great Tyrant.

  “My Holy,” said Callderwallder with a smile.

  “They think I am blind,” said the Tyrant. “It is not so.”

  “You see all, great Holy,” pandered Callderwallder as he stepped down from his perch.

  “That man who was on the stage today… he was part of a plot against me. They think me a fool, but I see everything that they do. I know everywhere that they are. They are no threat to me. They only live from one day to the next because I allow it.”

  “I had hoped you would visit me today,” said Callderwallder, limping to the far side of the balcony where he began to remove a tarp from a large item that rested upon the floor. “The metal was of a kind I have never seen, but I was able to work with it.”

  “My weapon,” said the Tyrant.

  “Yes,” said Callderwallder. “I cannot lift it, for I do not have the strength. It was only built for your greatness.”

  The tarp was removed and the weapon was revealed. Callderwallder looked back and forth between the weapon and the Tyrant with expectant glee. The Tyrant stooped down and picked the large, white blade off of the floor with the ease of lifting a feather. He held it in his hands and twisted it with his wrist. The hilt of the blade was long and thick, made of polished steel and decorated with black lines that looked like snakes intertwined. A large, black jewel adorned the pommel; the Tyrant could see his reflection in its surface as he spun the blade with ease. The sword’s guards were large, upward jutting triangles of cold steel. They were thick enough to stop the swing of a battle-axe. The blade itself looked like the long tooth of an ancient giant. At the hilt, the blade was as wide as a boat oar, and it tapered as it extended to a point that could cause a pin’s prick. The blade was so white it seemed to glow. The Tyrant raised the blade into the air and a bolt of lightning shot forth from it and into the sky, causing the world to rumble.

  “I had to add metal of my own to create a blade of appropriate size,” said Callderwallder. “I hope that you like it… I love metal.”

  “I am pleased,” said the Tyrant. Callderwallder bowed in thanks. “This is a weapon fit for destroying mortal men and fit for breaking ancient ones… they think I do not see.” The Tyrant cackled and buzzed with malice. “I see into their souls.”

  Chapter 38: A New Leader

  The faces of the nobles were drawn and cold as they sat around the long, oak table that was tucked away in a secret room, high inside the castle of Chreos. The men rubbed their chins and pursed their lips, the women hugged their arms close to their sides and stared around the room at the uncertainty that everyone possessed. One person alone stood from the table and began to pace. This man walked back and forth, past the short end of the oak table, with his hands folded behind his back and his long, hooked nose pointed at the floor.

  “The King has no heir,” blurted one woman who wore a green dress and large amounts of eye makeup. The man pacing didn’t react to her, and the other nobles at the table gave her patronizing nods. They were all very aware that King Aplistia had no heir. If he had, they would not be sitting around a table, looking for answers.

  “What say you, Bishop Craven?” asked a small, rotund and pimply man in an ornate jacket.

  The man pacing stopped and faced the nobles with a gaze like ice. His eyes were a blue so pale it seemed as if he barely had irises. His long, black robe framed his tall, thin frame and he stood with a slight hunch. His hands were still clasped behind his back.

  “It seems obvious to me what must be our next step,” said Bishop Craven with pointed articulation. “The question is, what say you, nobles of Chreos?”

  The worried nobles looked around the table at each other in confusion, completely unaware of Craven’s meaning.

  “W-What do you mean?” asked the pimply man.

  “The King,” continued Craven, “is dead. He has left Chreos without heir, his death an obvious assassination. The only question that remains is whether you, nobles of Chreos, are willing to make the right decision for the future of the Kingdom?” Bishop Craven straightened his back and raised an eyebrow. “We know the King’s purpose before he died was to exact the will of the Holy. This is the greatest purpose anyone can achieve, for we are nothing without the great power of the Holy. We must continue the King’s focus on what is important. We must adhere to our devout faith and obedience to the Holy. We must continue the plan.

  “Furthermore, it was the Holy himself who wished the King to prepare an army for the enemies we face, and there is only one other kingdom with the power to send an assassin to kill our King… Nefas. Nefas must be punished. It is up to you to elect a new leader. I would only ask that it be a person of great faith and obedience to the will of the great and powerful Holy.”

  The nobles looked around at each other with doubt and uncertainty. The room was alit by torchlight alone, and the shadows seemed to be shrinking in upon the table.

  “So… you suggest we attack Nefas?” asked one of the noblewomen.

  “I suggest we act in consideration of the Holy.”

  “You are right!” yelled one of the noblemen, pounding his fists upon the wooden table and standing. “How can we allow the assassination of our King to go unpunished? We are Chreos!”

  “Right you are!” yelled another of the nobles.

  “Here, here!” yelled yet another.

  “Good nobles,” said Craven, “you are correct in your assessment, alas, action cannot be taken before a new king is chosen. How can we please the Holy without a leader fit to do so?”

  “I will lead,” said one man.

  “You will not,” said the woman to his side.

  “It should be someone to please the Holy,” said another.

  “Bishop,” proclaimed the pimply man, “it should be you. You would please the Holy.”

  “Me?” asked the Bishop, feigning surprise. “The most noble and powerful men and women of Chreos would ask me to bare their flag? It would be an honor beyond honors; a dream beyond dreams.”

  “Yes,” agreed another. “It should be Craven.”

  “Yes, yes, yes!” shouted the nobles of Chreos.

  “We shall make it so,” said the pimply man. “All hail King Bishop Craven, a holy man to lead a holy kingdom.”

  The nobles applauded their grand idea that had not been theirs, and Craven stood proudly in their midst.

  “I shall dedicate my every waking moment to Chreos, for we are the Kingdom chosen by the Holy. The Holy Empire of Chreos!” The nobles cheered and pounded their fists upon the long wooden table. “We are the righteous who stand in defense of all that is good; we, the enemies of all that is evil! And those who oppose us shall fall to their knees for their heresy. Nefas shall pay! Tomorrow… we begin a war to end all wars. We shall begin the Holy’s War.”

  Chapter 39: A Dying Wish

  “Tell me your s
tory, old one. Who did this to you?”

  The red orb pulsed, its light fading, and then, becoming brighter. The red light cast Tenturo’s shadow upon the great, curved wall like the faded images of a forgotten people.

  “This world was once green,” said Desher. “It was full of color and life. The winds blew more than dust, and the cracks of this place were not filled with emptiness. I was not always hollow. Creatures populated my surface and civilizations called me home, but he came and weakened them; polluted them… and before long… he found me.”

  “Did he have a name?” asked Tenturo. “He, who has broken you and left you barren?”

  “No,” answered Desher. “The peoples of this world called him Light of Power, but he had no other name that I know. I could feel him working his way through my surface… I did not know for what purpose. I had thought it strange, and did not want him to do it… but my people told me he was good. They spoke of him with reverence and admiration. They spoke of him in ways they used to speak of me… When he made his way to me… only then, did I know how wrong they all had been.”

  “What happened?”

  “He fed off of me, like a parasite. He absorbed all that I was until all that was left of me is what you see now. He deceived my people and they paid a heavy price for their mistake. Once he had absorbed my power, he left, and never returned. I no longer had the power to sustain the world and it perished. All life burned away; dried up. Everything died… Everything.”

  “I know the one who did this to you,” said Tenturo. “He is the reason I am here. I fought to stop him, and like you, I was broken. But I will continue to fight him. I fear that what he has done to you, he plans to do to others. I fear that he will steal the life from another world.”

  “Can you stop him?” asked Desher.

  “I do not know… he has grown powerful.”

  “He will continue to absorb the powers of every world he comes across if he is allowed to do so. He must be stopped. If I only knew then… I would have tried.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Tenturo. He did not know what else to say. Desher had been destroyed and there was no changing that. This world was now a barren wasteland of red dust.

  “Take my power… destroy me,” said Desher after an extended silence. “Complete what he started.”

  “What?” balked Tenturo. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even know how.”

  “You must,” pleaded Desher. “He must be stopped. Any little bit I can help is worth it to me. Absorb what is left of me. I have become fragile. If you fly into my orb you will gain my power and I will be completely destroyed.”

  “No,” said Tenturo. “It is wrong.”

  “Do it,” called Desher. “Do not leave me as I am, helpless and haunted with regret. Grant me a dying wish… I beg of you.”

  Tenturo closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and then, flew directly into the pulsing red orb.

  “Thank you,” breathed Desher. “Thank y–

  Chapter 40: The Final Test

  High into the fluffy, white clouds flew Andor the eagle. Annie and Evercloud held tightly onto the eagle’s back as they climbed into the blue sky. The world was so bright and the clouds were so white, they seemed they would burn you if you touched them. The deep cerulean of the sky calmed Annie and Evercloud. They felt as if they were on their way to discover all the secrets of the universe. Andor banked left and flew beside a cloud that was so large they could not see past it. He climbed in the air with great downward thrusts of his wings, and in seconds, they had climbed over the edge of the cloud and glided just above its surface. Andor slowed and eventually stopped, resting on top of the massive cloud.

  “You can dismount,” the eagle said to his passengers.

  “How?” asked Evercloud. “We’ll fall through.”

  “No, you won’t,” laughed Andor. “How do you imagine that I am standing? This isn’t an ordinary cloud, you know.”

  Evercloud slid tentatively down Andor’s back, and reached one leg onto the cloud below. As his foot touched the cloud, he was shocked to meet resistance. He placed his other foot upon the cloud, still holding onto Andor, and smiled when it supported his weight with ease. Evercloud let go of the eagle and moved a few paces away.

  “It’s like walking upon very spongy moss,” said Evercloud to Annie.

  She followed him down and out onto the cloud. Her eyes were wide as she walked atop the fluffy white.

  “Now just continue walking in that direction,” pointed Andor. “You’ll find her.”

  “You’re not coming?” asked Annie.

  “I’m afraid not,” said the eagle sadly. “But don’t worry. We’ll see each other again soon.”

  Annie smiled and nodded, and the eagle nuzzled his beak against her short, black hair. Then, Andor took to the skies and disappeared below the clouds.

  “Shall we?” asked Evercloud.

  Across the giant cloud they walked, with the bluest of skies stretching in front of them. The two travelers laughed and smiled like children at play. The world of possible and real had been shattered like the glass of a window. Once stifled and stuffed inside a world of constraints, they were now free to move beyond, into a wide-open realm where anything was possible. They could think of nothing other than where they were; the rest of the world did not exist. The sun shined on them and the world was good. Evercloud noticed something at his feet and bent to pick it up.

  “An eagle feather,” said Annie.

  “According to Aella, the last eagle feather,” smiled Evercloud.

  Then, like the birth of a new world, she appeared. Wisps of white stretched up from the cloud surface and twisted themselves, rolling and smoothing into her porcelain white form. She was radiant and perfect, an undeniable truth given from the gifts of imagination. She opened her blue eyes as if she unveiled the infinite, blue sky itself. One could soar within the boundaries of her eyes to heights never before attained. One could live, and know life as a gift and a privilege, precious and pure. She smiled upon the travelers, and with that small gesture they were filled with serenity to their very bones. She was the warm kiss that grants a peaceful night of sleep. She was the home that waits at the end of the long and arduous road. She was Amber, daughter of the Earth and Sun, spirit of the ever-dreaming sky.

  “I did wonder when I would see you,” said Amber. “I did wonder when this would be complete.”

  “We are here to complete the final test,” said Evercloud. “We are here to gain audience with the Earth.”

  “No,” said Amber, her hair flowing in waves. “That is not possible. You are not the completed pair.”

  “The pair?” asked Annie.

  “Do you not know of the prophecy? I will speak it to you.

  “In the world’s most desperate hour of need,

  Earthly elements shall be set free.

  And evil tyrants should beware,

  The coming of an unlikely pair.

  Behold the golden fires of hope,

  That curse and grace the lives of man.

  Yet one cannot in life exist,

  If two won’t find the strength to stand.”

  “I have heard that before,” said Evercloud, “but not the ending. You say that we are not the complete pair. It is only the pair that will gain audience with the Earth?”

  “Yes, Brother,” confirmed Amber. “That is correct.”

  “Amber,” began Evercloud, “can you tell us who the pair are?”

  “Well of course, Brother,” said Amber with a smile. “It is the Sun and the Moon.”

  This answer frustrated Evercloud to no end. He had been so sure that this would finally be the point where they got somewhere, the point where they would finally be given clear answers to their questions. He wanted all the tests, riddles and cryptic messages to be finished. He no longer possessed the ability to keep his patience.

  “When will the riddles end?!” he cried. “We have come so far, we have traveled so long, and still, you spirits give
nothing to us. Are we not worthy of being given simple answers? You say we are brothers and sisters, does this mean nothing to you?”

  “No,” replied Amber as she looked oddly upon Evercloud.

  “No, what?” he asked, exasperated.

  “No, we do not say you are brothers and sisters. We say that you are brother, because you are our brother.”

  Evercloud’s head swam and he did not know how to reply. Annie stared at him, unbelieving, and all was quiet until Evercloud finally stuttered, “I – I am a man. I am the son of Esteban Floyd.”

  “No,” said Amber. “No, you are not. I did not realize that you were unaware of your origin.”

  Evercloud was shattered. He knew nothing. “Who am I?” he asked.

  Amber began to tell Evercloud and Annie the story of the Moon and her love for the Sun. She told of how the situation became strained after the Earth and Sun created the eight daughters and how the Moon created Densa in the name of revenge. Amber then explained how Chera, Tenturo and Bahknar came to be. Amber then retold the tale of the Skyfather’s gifts to the Wind.

  “But that was not the end of the Skyfather’s gifts,” said Amber. “The Skyfather gave one more gift, much later, someone who would unite the other gifts; a boy. The Skyfather brought you, Evercloud, to Esteban Floyd and told him to leave you in the forests that surround Gray Mountain. You see, Evercloud, you are our brother in that we share the same father. You are of the Sun.”

  Tears streamed from Evercloud’s eyes. “How can this be true?”

  “It is,” said Amber. “I am sorry that this upsets you.”