Enflamed (Book 2)

by R. M. Prioleau

  The creature’s turquoise eyes bore into Kaijin as if they were staring into his very soul. Then, it spoke words that sounded like a series of hisses and crackles—like fire burning. “Why are you here?”

  Kaijin furrowed his brow. Somehow, he could understand the fiery words. He replied in Common, “Where is ‘here’?”

  The creature snorted again and pointed its blade at Kaijin. “The Master has not yet summoned you. You have no business here. Begone, mortal.”

  Kaijin stared at the shining blade. “I ... I don’t know how I got here.”

  “Some other filthy mortal attempted to take something that does not belong to them,” the creature replied. An image of the orb appeared before Kaijin in the thin air. The creature held up Kaijin’s necklace. “This necklace’s powers sent you here while your body slept. You have been asleep for precisely two and one-third mortal cycles.”

  Kaijin looked at the objects and gasped. The orb was grey and hazy. He focused on the necklace and, panicked, patted his chest. It’s gone! His eyes widened. “That’s mine! Why would the necklace save me?”

  The creature held the necklace aloft and teasingly swung the charm like a pendulum. “Because the Master is not yet finished with you.”

  “Master?” Kaijin scrunched his brow. “I don’t understand. What master?”

  “The Master is He to whom you have vowed your soul.”

  Kaijin frowned. He assumed the creature spoke of Ignis, but its words were riddling. He could only assume that this was all a dream—a nightmare. “No, I don’t believe you. Give me back my amulet!”

  “You dare stand up to me?” the creature snarled. Its sword hand burst into flame, and fire traveled downwards and enveloped the weapon. It sliced through the transparent image of the orb, which disappeared.

  Fear tingled down Kaijin’s spine. He desperately tried to keep his composure, but he was failing fast. This is madness. This is not real.

  The creature’s eyes narrowed, its grim sneer twisting into an amused smirk. “No, Kaijin Sora. It is not madness. It is chaos—and it is very real.”

  This monster knows my name? My thoughts? Kaijin gaped.

  A chuckle rumbled from the creature. “Yes, I can read your fragile thoughts like your kind reads books.”

  This couldn’t be ... Him ... could it?

  “No, Kaijin Sora. I am not He.”

  “Where ... where am I? Who are you?”

  “Who I am is none of your concern. You are trespassing in the Master’s realm, and it is my duty to remove you.” The monster inched the edge of the blade closer to Kaijin.

  Kaijin swallowed a lump in his throat. He wriggled his body away from the flaming blade. “Spare me, please. I never meant to come here. I never meant to anger your master.”

  “Then awaken, and do not return.”

  “I don’t know how to awaken. Perhaps I’m dead.”

  “You are not dead. Not yet. You reek of the same stench as mortals.”

  “Then show me how to awaken.”

  The creature chuckled again. It held its blazing scimitar at Kaijin’s chest, pinning him in place. “With pleasure.”

  Kaijin felt a sharp pain in his chest.

  There was pain beyond pain, and Kaijin wanted to cry out, but all he managed was a gurgling groan. His life flashed before his eyes.

  Is this what death feels like?

  The creature pulled Kaijin up to his knees, and Kaijin glimpsed the flaming blade piercing his heart. With a sinister grin, the creature lodged the sword deeper, until the cross guard was pressed against Kaijin’s chest. Kaijin felt his body jerk and twitch from the monster’s mishandling. He was certain that by now, the remainder of the blade protruded from his back.

  The weapon’s flames burned a hole through Kaijin’s robes, revealing a gaping, bloodless wound beneath, reeking of scorched flesh.

  Kaijin convulsed and went limp, held in place by the weapon.

  The monster withdrew the sword. Fire cleansed the blade’s edge, leaving it purified and shining like new again. “The Master sends His regards,” the creature said as Kaijin slumped. It rumbled with laughter and tossed the necklace at him.

  The necklace hit Kaijin’s chest and landed in his lap. No longer could Kaijin feel pain. Instead, he felt numb, and the rest of his senses began to fail him. So, it ends here. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, breathing his last.

  XV

  Kaijin’s eyes shot open. He shuddered, vividly remembering that horrid creature’s face. He traced his fiery charm, which hung securely around his neck.

  He exhaled in relief. Just a dream. That’s all it was.

  Kaijin’s body felt heavy as he stirred. He was lying on a smooth stone floor, and his back and neck were stiff and hurting. It took him several minutes to finally sit up and examine his surroundings, which were cloaked in darkness.

  He soon realized that he was in a cave. The only source of light came dimly from the cave’s massive mouth. Beyond the exit, the starry sky outlined a precipice. This is not our camp. How did I get here?

  The ozone smell that he remembered from his dream hung heavily in the air. A shuffling sound diverted his attention to the back of the cave, where he spied two shadowy figures moving about.

  “You sure this will be big enough?” a male asked in a whisper.

  “Yes,” another male replied. “Now, keep quiet and help me.”

  Still groggy, Kaijin squinted, trying to make out the two figures.

  “I hope the others come soon,” the first one said. “It was only luck we made it this far while she was away.”

  “Luck? If not for that spell I cast on you, you’d be clanking around louder than a golem.”

  He huffed. “I still don’t understand why we don’t just destroy this one. This is more trouble than it’s worth, if you ask me.”

  “Do you realize how much money can be made in the black market for this? Some of the mages will pay top coin for just the eggshells alone!”

  “Well, first, we need do get out of here. But I don’t think that plan will go smoothly.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it looks like the Celestials brought friends, this time.”

  “Reinforcements are on their way to deal with them. That’s when we’ll make our escape, understand?”

  Confused by the pair’s conversation, Kaijin looked around for his companions, but he saw no one. He listened carefully, but he heard only the light rustle of the two men nearby. Kaijin called out, “Nester? Aidan? Who’s there?”

  The rustling stopped abruptly. The air grew tense.

  Kaijin felt a presence near him. He smelled the faint scent of brimstone.

  A male voice uttered a phrase in Arcanic, and a soft white ball of light appeared in the hand of a stranger. He closed his fist slightly, dimming the light. The man wore a green cloak over his long black robes, upon which a symbol—two crossed swords over a Dragon’s skull—was emblazoned on the chest. The light traced over the man’s fair, weathered face as he studied Kaijin.

  Kaijin looked back at the stranger and blinked. “Who are you? Where am I?”

  Frowning, the cloaked man called to his companion, “Someone else is here—and he’s alive.”

  “What?” The other man spoke in just above a whisper. He was dragging a very large bag across the cave floor, and Kaijin caught small glimpses of the man’s shining armor. He stood before Kaijin, the dim light revealing the greenish skin and porcine features of an orc, whose face was beaded with sweat. Though donned in full plate, his movements were strangely muffled. He wore a dark green tabard, emblazoned with the same symbol as his cloaked comrade.

  “I will crush him.” The orc let go of the bag.

  “Wait, there’s no time.” The cloaked man placed two fingers over his temple. “I’ve been contacted. Our brethren have come.”

  “But—!”

  “Now! We must escape while we have the chance. Leave him. The others will finish him off once they
have dealt with the Celestials’ group.”

  Others? Kaijin tried to make sense of it all.

  The orc grunted and reluctantly grabbed the bag.

  The cloaked man clenched his fist, extinguishing the light, and went toward the mouth of the cave. “Hold on to me.”

  What's going on? Where are they headed?

  The orc followed his companion and wrapped one arm around the man’s waist while he tightly held the large bag. The cloaked man held up his hand and twisted a shining object on one of his fingers. The air surrounding the men wavered as they were enveloped in a translucent shield, and moments later, the two men disappeared.

  Kaijin flinched. Did they just ...

  He lost his train of thought as he spied movement heading out of the cave. He rose slowly, approached the mouth of the cave, and peered out.

  There was no one in sight. The precipice overlooked moonlit, craggy, and utterly empty lands below. Kaijin eyed a treacherous-looking rocky trail leading down the mountainside. Voices drifted up from further down the path, followed by screams and clashing metal.

  Kaijin’s head throbbed, and he grabbed it, groaning in pain. Not again. He heard his familiar’s high-pitched call from above and behind him. Turning, he spied Miele hanging from the mouth of the cave. She flew at him, shrieking, and landed on his shoulder, her excitement easing the pain in his mind.

  “Miele?” Kaijin asked aloud. She’s alive? “Gods! Am I glad to see you! Are you okay?”

  Miele stretched her wings, revealing her furry chest. Over her heart, a line of skin puckered with a faint scar.

  She’s alive! Kaijin studied the mark, but movement in the nearby brush interrupted him. Percival poked his head up from the small clumps of grass. Squeaking frantically, Percival ran to Kaijin.

  “Percival? What are you doing here?” Kaijin asked the weasel aloud. “Did Omari send you?”

  Percival fixed him with an intense gaze, then turned toward the rocky path that wound down the mountainside and began nervously weaving between Kaijin’s ankles.

  Kaijin studied the weasel’s odd behavior, puzzled. “What’s going on? Is Omari down there?”

  Percival let out another whistle. He stopped pacing and stood on his hind legs, craning his neck and stretching his supple body to get a better view.

  As Kaijin followed Percival’s gaze, he heard a woman scream. Zarya!

  The terror in that scream turned Kaijin’s bitterness toward her into concern. He chewed his bottom lip and looked at Miele. “What should I do? I don’t know if I am strong enough to fight.”

  Miele responded with a series of reassuring shrieks and flapped her wings once, sending him feelings of assurance and encouragement.

  Kaijin remembered bits and pieces of what had happened a few days before. “Wait, back at the camp ... I was ... part of you, wasn’t I? What did you do then? How was I able to see what you saw?”

  She shrieked again, flew off his shoulder, and made small circles above his head.

  Kaijin smiled. “Can you show me what’s going on down there? I want to know if everyone is safe. Please be careful. If anything should happen to you again, I—”

  Before he could finish, Miele soared into the air and followed the twisting mountain path.

  He watched her carefully. Soon, he felt himself slip away into a trance.

  Through Miele’s eyes, Kaijin saw the moon-touched lands. He felt his stomach flip-flop as Miele soared through the night sky.

  A battle raged at the base of the mountain. Despite the terrifying sensation, Kaijin also felt a sense of freedom, being so high above the chaos. “I never realized how beautiful it was up here, Miele.”

  Miele screeched, and the swooping sensation returned to Kaijin’s stomach as she zoomed toward the heart of the fight, giving him a brief glimpse of the combatants before soaring back into the sky. Sigmund, Sephiya, and Evan—the same strangers he remembered from before—fought alongside his companions. The group faced seven armored assailants, who wielded swords, bows, and magic.

  Raiders?

  Omari slumped against a large rock, breathing heavily. The electrical sparks crackled dimly in his eyes. The ball of lightning he hurled at two archers who aimed at him faded, and the spell fizzled as it hit an invisible barrier surrounding the men. He unsecured his staff from behind him and stepped back into a defensive posture. His body swayed slightly. An armored raider lunged at him from behind, his broadsword poised to slice through the unsuspecting mage.

  “Omari! Look out!” Evan yelled, aiming his bow at the raider. His arrow sliced through the air, punching through the attacker’s exposed neck. The man collapsed, dropping his sword. Omari turned and jumped away, startled. With a sigh of relief, Evan scanned the rest of the battle.

  Sigmund locked swords with an equally large armored man. He broke through the hold and head-butted his opponent. Momentarily dazed, the raider staggered backward, and Sigmund lunged in, driving his sword through the bottom opening of the man’s breastplate and into his kidney. Sigmund withdrew his sword, and with a loud grunt, the raider collapsed.

  Before the raider could hit the ground, Aidan grabbed him and pinned him against the cliff face. Blood flowed from the man’s wound.

  “Look at Aidan,” the giant demanded, “and answer.”

  The man’s eyelids fluttered. He convulsed and coughed blood.

  Sigmund frowned. “Leave him, Aidan. This is no time for interrogations.”

  Ignoring Sigmund, Aidan remained focused on the dying raider, who coughed more violently.

  Aidan bared his fangs and demanded in a low, beastly snarl, “Is Gaston here? You carry his scent. Where is he? Answer Aidan now!”

  Blood dribbled out of the side of the raider’s gaping mouth. His eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.

  “Aidan!” Sigmund yelled again. “That’s enough!” He ducked as two arrows zoomed by him. The two longbow archers, atop a large, flat rock, nocked fresh arrows.

  Aidan grunted. The arrows had lodged deep into his back, just beneath the small protruding nubs. Aidan released the dead raider and stumbled forward, bracing himself against the rock face with a grimace. Blood trickled from the wound as he worked his muscles. While Aidan was distracted, two more raiders approached him.

  “Finish the half-breed!” one of them ordered.

  Aidan slumped to his knees and groaned.

  “Aidan!” Zarya shouted, running to the giant. Two more arrows whistled by, halting her midstride. The arrows lodged in the ground just hairs behind her.

  Miele soared toward the rock and hovered not far above where the archers stood. Behind the archers, a shadow moved.

  Nester appeared in plain sight, like a ghost solidifying in thin air. He struck the two men from behind, driving his daggers through small openings between the flutes of their cuisses and into their thighs.

  “That’s no way to treat a lady.” Nester twisted his blades deeper.

  The two men cried out in pain and collapsed, firing their arrows toward the sky as they dropped their bows and grasped at their wounds.

  Panicked, Miele zoomed away from the battle. Kaijin spoke softly. “No, Miele. You’re safe. They weren’t aiming at you.”

  A wave of relief spread through the bat, and she approached the battle again, more cautiously.

  Nester pulled out his blades and gave them both a good, hard shake. As he did so, Sigmund approached from finishing off the other raider and drove his sword into the displaced archers’ backs.

  Nester blinked. “Remind me never to make you angry, mate.”

  Sigmund’s face remained stony. “They must not live.”

  “I kinda figured that.”

  Sigmund rolled one of the dead raiders’ corpses over with his foot and pointed at a small symbol etched on the breastplate.

  “That symbol is the same one those two men in the cave were wearing. Who are they? What do they want?”

  Confusion filled Miele, and she fluttered closer to Nester and Sigmund
. They didn’t seem to notice her.

  “Do you see this, Nester?” Sigmund said. “It is the symbol of the Legion. They are slayers.”

  Nester scratched his head, his face scrunching with confusion. “I ain’t seen a symbol like that before, but my Uncle Nickle used to tell me scary bedtime stories about evil slayers. Gave me nightmares when I was a boy, they did. But I never saw one myself, so I figured they weren’t real. I mean, ’e did used to pull my leg like that most of the time, despite ’im knowin’ ’ow much I ’ated it.”

  Sigmund huffed. “Slayers are very much real. They are driven by cruelty and a blind faith heavily influenced by their dark god, Tydus. They have sinned beyond redemption and must die.”

  Nester gulped and nodded quickly. “A–aye! Of course!” He backed away slowly, then rushed off to join Omari, who was striking one of the enemy mages’ ankles with his quarterstaff, sweeping her to the ground.

  Miele followed the brownie.

  The enemy mage’s hands emitted a purple light as she tumbled backward, and she managed to utter the last phrase of her spell and unleash a fury of small hailstones at Omari.

  Omari held his staff in front of him, hands shaking as he summoned small lightning bolts to block some of the hailstones. He fell hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him.

  “’Old on, Omari!” Nester called. He dashed at the woman as she rose shakily to her feet.

  The woman eyed him and frowned.

  Nester mirrored her expression as he sheathed one of his daggers and slid his fingers into his belt pouch. “I ain’t never ’it a lady before, an’ I ain’t about to do so now—no matter ’ow evil she might be.” He pulled out a round, pea-sized object.

  The woman glared. “Evil? How dare you!” She plucked a component from her pouch and grasped it in her fist. Her hand began to glow again as she readied another spell.

  Nester tossed the object at her. It exploded in her face in a small cloud of white powder. Coughing, she waved off the cloud, but moments later, she went into convulsions. The spell fizzled in her hands, and she gagged and collapsed. Her body continued twitching for a few moments and then lay still.

  Omari gawked. “Nester, what in Malik’s name was that?”