They played two more mesmerizing songs until they reached their final score. It was a score that Elion had created specifically for Livian. They began the introduction of the song, then, when reaching the bridge, Livian lay her instrument in her lap and took a deep breath. Her voice came out in a clear, mezzo-soprano tone, quiet at first then building as she regained confidence. “Eternal spirits guide us throughout Falajen. Descending from the Sea of Renewal, we’re not worthy of immortality.” Although they were very few words, they were drawn out in a most melodic opera. She continued her violin melody to Elion’s harmony. After a verse, it was her turn to sing again. “Follow your spirit’s path, you cannot guide yourself, although we create our own destinies. Call upon the stars, summon your spirit’s strength, design your reality.” She held the final note for an extra beat as Elion’s faded away.
Emperor Arquistas, General Satnir, Admiral Onilak, Prelate Li’Li and Advisor Milia Kon wildly applauded the duo.
“Very beautiful, Elion and Livian,” Emperor Arquistas declared as he approached them. He held his hands out to each of them, displaying his gift of a collectible coin in each one. “I rarely hand these out, please accept these as my gratitude for your time.”
The General and the Admiral had also presented the duo with coins of appreciation followed by the highest compliments. Milia Kon invited Elion and Livian on a private tour of the palace, escorting them to various halls, kitchens, libraries and balconies with grand views of all of Res’Baveth.
“Milia,” one of the council members approached him. “The emperor requires your assistance.”
“Ah, of course he does,” Milia sighed. “Do either of you remember the way out?”
Elion nodded. “Just down the stairs and to the left?”
“Yes, please try to take your leave by the twentieth hour so as not to become interrogated by the guards,” Milia kindly suggested.
“Will do, thank you, Mr. Kon,” Elion replied.
As Milia and the councilmember departed, Livian leaned against the balcony railing. The night air felt cool on her cheek as she looked out to the city lights twinkling below. “Oh spirits, we’re so high! At least a hundred feet!”
Elion smiled and stood beside her. “Try three hundred feet.”
The night sky was absent of the light of moons and planets. The stars pierced the sky in an attempt to make up for the lack of planetary reflections. The massive city before them glistened its own twinkling lights back as if to reflect the night sky. In the distant east, the sea was in view. “I’ve never seen Res’Baveth from this angle. Thank you, Elion, for giving me this opportunity,” Livian said and wrapped her arms around him.
Elion froze. As much as he wanted to return the embrace, it seemed unwise for someone of his age to hold someone as young as her so closely.
“Are you unable to hold me?” Livian asked when she broke away. Her eyes searched for his for reassurance but didn’t find it.
Elion furrowed his brow. “Forgive me, Livian, I cannot.”
Livian diverted her gaze. “Is it because I’m so young?”
Elion nodded. “Yes, my dear sweet Livian. Even if I were only nineteen years old, you are still under the age…” He trailed off, letting the implication sink in.
Livian returned her glance back to him. “If I were two years older? In two years, would you…?”
Elion smiled sincerely. “I’m still a hundred years older than you, but if it’s what our spirits desire in two years time, I will stay reserved for you.”
Livian hugged him once more. He returned the embrace, shortly, but tightly. Though, he was an entire century older than her, their spirits preserved their youthful appearance for centuries. Elion would not begin to age any further until Livian was nearing her seventh century of life on Falajen.
Chapter XII
Violent ocean waves collided against the ancient lava rock of the dormant Mt. Alusan. The water was a deep blue with frothy white crests that could smash an unwitting soul against the rocks with no remorse. The southern shore was the most tropical region of Sariadne. Extravagant resorts and upscale huts lined parts of the coast for vacationing Resarians. In between the small towns lay open fields with rolling hills.
Acolyte Roz meditated upon a grassy knoll beneath flat top trees, away from the busy resort sector. The sound of Division Forty-One approaching reached his ears as his assembly of six disciples and seven horses stood by to welcome the small band of approaching recruits. Acolyte Roz and his counterpart, Acolyte Krain, rotated the responsibility of guiding a division on the mystic training portion of the expedition. The journey south was long and arduous for the acolytes, causing the Dominion to consider shifting the mystics training up by two years when the Divisions would be closest to Res’Baveth. The military’s stance on the subject was that they wanted their recruits to ‘earn’ the privilege of learning to summon their mystics by completing the more physically demanding portions first. Finally, Acolyte Roz made an agreement with General Satnir that, in eight years, the military would move naval training up by six months, and the recruits would spend their final six months in the Citadel again, learning to summon mystics west of the city.
“Sergeant First Class Vilkinsen,” Roz softly spoke to the man walking toward him after halting the division. They shook hands in greeting. “Let me first offer my sincerest condolences for the loss of your men and women during the unfortunate attack during your first year.
“As for your soldiers finding the lost division; our medics have recovered each body of Division Thirty-Nine and are still researching the source of the fire that took their lives.”
While the two men finished quickly debriefing one another on their accounts, the recruits were partitioned into six groups; one team for each mage disciple. They would remain with their mage for six months to properly learn the skills required for summoning their spirit’s mystics.
“Sergeant Sen Asel,” Roz called out when he was finished speaking to Vilkenson.
“Yes?” Brisethi turned her head from the group she had been sent to.
“You’re with me,” he ordered. He began walking away.
“Oh,” she replied, hurrying after him and swatting at insects flying around her head.
“Retrieve an overnight bag,” he said over his shoulder. “We’ll be gone until morning.”
She did as she was told then joined him by the tree that was being used as a hitching post. They both mounted horses to start their journey in the direction of the dormant volcano. Neither spoke during the three hour ride toward the top. Brisethi was content with the silence, distracted by the strange lava rock formations and lost in her own thoughts.
“Mt. Alusan hasn’t erupted since the two-thousand and fifty-fourth year of Sariadne’s people’s existence,” Roz began when they neared the top. “It was the year of the Kiaran exile; the year that Sentiar Asellunas brought down the stars from the skies; the year the Dominion was born in the ashes of ancient Resari.” Roz’s voice had a soothing yet ominous pitch to it as he went on. “Your great ancestor had awakened a beast that previously lived only in the under-earth. As the beast settled in to Mt. Alusan to make it his nest, he managed to stop the flow of lava. Dangerous poisons began to fill the air, making it impossible for any Resarian to investigate it.” He paused, studying Brisethi’s reactions.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We’re pretty close to the rim of the volcano, why aren’t we affected yet?”
Roz signaled for them to stop and dismount. Brisethi looked around when her feet hit the ground, focusing her gaze on the jagged green mountains north of the volcano as they tied their horses to a lone tree. The majestic mountains were steep and ridged, covered by trees and plants, unlike the gray, snow-capped peaks of the north.
“Not to worry, I have cast a shield around us that filters the air to deflect any putrefying gases. It’s a rare spell that only blesses a spirit every few millennia.” The man was completely calm when speaking to her. He sounded fac
tual, not boasting.
She glared at him momentarily, considering how heavily to stock her faith in the young acolyte before taking a deep breath. “Why are we here, anyway? I’m not a scientist. I know nothing about rocks.”
The acolyte smirked knowingly. “In the last two hundred years, Mt. Bavala has erupted more frequently and the lava flow has increased. It will eventually flow to Res’Baveth if a way to relieve the pressure is not found.”
Brisethi narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How exactly is that going to be accomplished?”
“You’re going to restore this volcano’s natural lava flow,” Roz said as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Ah, of course. That sounds easy enough, nothing could possibly go wrong.” Brisethi sighed, wondering if it really could be as simple as her summoning lava from the crater.
They hiked to the crater’s edge, scanning for the least formidable path toward the opening. The crater was smaller than Brisethi imagined; barely a quarter of a mile in circumference. Roz carefully led her to a lower area where they could easily step down and make their way to the center. Plumes of smoke surrounded the area, but Brisethi had the feeling that it wasn’t natural. Roz pointed to the ancient crust and ordered Brisethi to summon her mystic.
Brisethi’s eyes widened. “If you’re asking me to create lava, it’s going to kill us both,” she said quickly. “This is too small of an area for me to keep it under control-“
“It won’t kill you because it’s your own mystic adding to it, silly girl. And you’re not ‘creating’ lava, you are pulling the magma from beneath the mountains. I won’t die because I am constantly healing even when I’m not hurt. I’m nearly invincible, dear child.” He chastised.
Mildly resenting his comment, she decided to stop arguing with the acolyte and quickly summoned a geyser of liquid fire that spewed up directly in front of where they stood, twice their height.
Chills shivered up her spine when an eerie sound echoed from within the crater. It was a sound she had never heard before and could only be certain it was the angry roar of a beast. “I’m no scientist but I’m pretty sure volcanoes don’t make that sound when releasing its energy,” Brisethi murmured.
“Less talking and more summoning, we need to clear the lava tubes of whatever is in there,” Roz stated, sounding mildly irate.
Brisethi did as he bid, trying not to panic when the roar became louder, closer. She called upon her spirit’s mystic to push more magma up from beneath the surface. She was sweating from the heat of the liquid fire but when embers fell on her clothes or skin, she felt nothing. She looked back to see if the same was happening to Roz, but he seemed to have had a sort of reflection shield protecting him.
The ground began to shake slightly under her feet. A huge rumble forced Brisethi to turn back to the volcano’s opening where she saw a dark, massive form crawling out of a lava tube. Her heart began to pound at the sight, as if it would beat a hole out of her chest to escape, and she involuntarily screamed at the sight of the black winged dragon leaping toward her. She turned to run, but Roz held her in front of him, forcing her to face it.
“What the fuck, Roz, we have to get out of here! We’re going to die!” she shrieked as the dragon landed heavily before them, shaking the crater’s fragile crust. Brisethi was nothing she imagined herself to be if ever she faced a dragon. Her bravery and confidence diminished at the frightful sight.
Roz remained silent, staring in awe at the majestic creature. Bits of lava fell from the dragon’s body like water. On all fours, it was as tall as one of the smaller buildings in Res’Baveth. Its tail flipped back and forth as its head snaked toward them, its blazing eyes seemingly focused on the acolyte and recruit.
A deep, low-pitched voice resonated loudly in Brisethi’s head, causing her to fall to her knees and cover her ears as though it might dampen the sound. She had the fleeting amazed thought that the dragon was speaking to her, albeit in a language she had never heard before. His head drew back back, conjuring fire within his throat. As he exhaled the flames, Brisethi summoned her own flames in a force more powerful than the dragon’s fiery breath to push his flames away from her. Simultaneously, she rose to her feet and summoned a sphere of red flames, adding the lava from her geyser to it, and then hurled it at the dragon.
Brisethi assumed that the dragon hadn’t expected a quick bolt of fire to come back toward him, but he took the hit easily and merely shrugged off the embers from his onyx scales. The voice bellowed in her head once more, but in a slightly more familiar language. His piercing red eyes glared at her until she replied in the small amount of Kiaran words she had learned during her Dominion training.
“Verikas, mok da ne shan.” She shouted her surrender and that she meant no harm.
The resonating voice replied but this time in the Resarian language, allowing her to speak in her native tongue.
She dissipated the flames in her hands, momentarily awed of her capability to communicate with the ancient beast. She inhaled deeply then asked in Resarian, “Bestivak tak nogh ves talivak megh tach?” She wanted to know if the dragon was responsible for the deaths of her people over a year ago.
“I was avenging the death of my mother,” the dragon’s voice rumbled in her mind. His claws dug into the lava rock as he ‘spoke’.
“That specific group killed your mother?” she asked, still marveling at how it was possible that one dragon was alive, let alone two.
The dragon’s horned head gave a short nod. “They should have just left us alone,” he growled. “She was ailing, but they hunted her. I chased them down into the desert and burned each one from the insides so that they would die a slow, agonizing death.”
Brisethi had no response. If a group of people had killed her mother, she would have obliterated them all, too. Knowing the history of her own people thrived on vengeance, she viewed it as a justified cause.
“Leave me, or I will hunt you down as well,” the voice threatened in a growl.
Not wanting to gamble their lives by asking more questions, Brisethi and Roz finally fled the crater, careful not to fall into the newly created lava pools.
“Is this a dream?” Brisethi asked when she finally caught her breath. They arrived at the tree where their horses still stood, restless and struggling to put as much distance between them and the strange noises at the volcano’s peak. The last light of day was quickly fading away. “I mean, a nightmare?” Brisethi corrected herself. She attempted to soothe their mounts by offering them each a sugar cube. They slowly quieted under her touch.
“No,” Roz said passively, “but he will forever haunt our dreams just as the ancient dragons once haunted the men of past who had seen them.” His voice was calm and unconcerned as he spread out his bedroll to sit upon.
“Oh good.” She stared blankly then readied her bedroll as well. Laying down, she stared up at the two moons that were growing brighter as the sunlight dissipated. “I thought dragons didn’t exist anymore,” she said after a few moments.
“Just because no one alive has evidence, that doesn’t disregard its existence,” he replied. Roz’s voice had never changed from his calm state, even in the presence of a dragon. Brisethi couldn’t decide on if that was reassuring or annoying.
“What happens now? Do we tell everyone what we just witnessed?” She sat up and unfolded her thin fabric blanket.
“That depends. Do you want to be removed from the Dominion and placed in the asylum for your mental health?” He took out a piece of dried bread from one of the saddle bags he had packed.
Brisethi ignored the question, assuming Roz fully knew her answer. “How will you record the deaths of Division Thirty-Nine if you’re not going to mention the dragon?” She sipped at her water container.
“Unless our dragon friend makes himself known to more people - and if people did believe us they would hunt him down, by the way – I will have to make something up. Perhaps they drank contaminated water when rainfall hit Mt.
Alusan, seeping its poisonous debris into the river. They were so delusional from this poison, that they forgot to change into their summer uniforms when crossing the desert.” Roz finished eating his small amount of bread then laid down in his bedroll, clearly done with conversation.
Unnerved at the acolyte’s ease with lying, Brisethi lay back on her bedroll and looked up at the two nearly full moons. The light reflecting from them made most of the stars invisible in the night sky while the two nearby planets had not yet come into view. Her body was exhausted from the day’s adventure, but her mind was still wide awake from the rush of the dragon encounter. She contemplated the acolyte’s last words. The recruit division ought to be avenged, but she couldn’t bring herself to wish the incredible dragon harm, despite the fear he had struck in her. What if he is the last of his kind? We’d be responsible for the devastation of an entire species.
Her mind wandered back to her friends. She wished she could confide in her closest companions, Korteni and Ibrienne. Even Antuni Crommick would take interest in the story and then make fun of her for it out of jealousy. She even contemplated telling Etyne Vorsen, just to have something to talk about with him. There was something admirable about her combat partner that she couldn’t easily dismiss from her thoughts. Even though she didn’t pay much attention to looks, Brisethi couldn’t deny that Etyne was probably the most attractive man in the division. She was mostly fond of his consideration toward others even if he had unjustly become an outcast because of his half-Kiaran roots. She breathed deeply then exhaled, hoping it was only her loneliness during the past three years that was driving her to have the most infinitesimal thought of infatuation, though the thought was a welcome distraction from her recent encounter. An infatuation that couldn’t be as insignificant if his touch kept sending her heart into flutters. Since her combat partner was not available, the thought to become close with him was out of the question. It only furthered the notion that it would pass if she focused her thoughts on anyone else, or anything else.
Spirits of Falajen Page 12
