Enflamed (Book 2)

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Enflamed (Book 2) Page 18

by R. M. Prioleau


  “How interesting it is to be holding an instrument of the Firelord himself. There are many names for those who are not inherently adept in the divine arts but can still be manipulated by extraplanar beings: the Horsemen of Tydus, the Champions of Celestra. In the case of Ignis ... well. You can understand where the name came from.”

  Kaijin hung limply in her hold, staring at her. What’s a Firebrand?

  “That is what makes you different from the rest of your companions.” Kyniythyria set him back down on the cave floor, more gently that time.

  Relieved to be on solid ground again, Kaijin took a deep breath to calm his nerves. I’ve never heard of Firebrands. Is it cleric magic? “So, what does that mean, Great Mistress? I am a slayer?”

  “I might have suspected that possibility if you served Tydus, but as you bear Ignis’s symbol, that does not seem to be the case.”

  “So does that mean you ... trust me?”

  “For now. Do not give me a reason to reconsider.”

  “And that is why you wished to interrogate me alone?”

  Kyniythyria huffed. “Among other things. You were asleep for three days; either Sephiya’s sleep spell misfired, or you are highly sensitive to such enchantments. Either way, the spell should not have lasted for as long as it did. The strangeness made me wonder. You slept so deeply, in fact, that some of your friends presumed you dead at first, even though you were still breathing—albeit faintly.”

  Kaijin nodded, starting to understand what had happened. He stared toward the rear of the cave, remembering the two strangers and their odd burden.

  “You know something, Firebrand. Tell me. Now.”

  He looked back at her. “I ... uh ...”

  Kyniythyria flicked her tongue at him again, giving his cheek a more powerful static shock. A bead of sweat disappeared from the tip of his nose. “I can taste the apprehension on you. If you know something about my child, speak now, or else.”

  Kaijin fell onto his rear, and he rubbed the pained spot on his face. Gazing up at the Dragon, he meekly drew his knees to his chest. “I ... I awoke in this cave and heard men’s voices. I saw something—something big—being dragged. It was too dark to see much, Great Mistress.” He looked behind him briefly, and then returned his attention to her. “One of the men used an item—a ring—and before I knew it, they were both gone—disappeared into thin air. I suspect it was a spell of some sort—like invisibility.”

  She growled. “They have gotten bolder and more foolish. They will pay dearly for this.”

  He lowered his head. “That is all I can remember, Great Mistress.”

  “Very well. I will allow you to join your companions. Use whatever gift the Firelord has entrusted you with to find my child.”

  Kaijin breathed a deep sigh of relief. Thank you. He relaxed. “Great Mistress, if I may just have a little food and water before I leave?”

  Kyniythyria sneered. “Did you not hear what I told Omari?”

  Kaijin cringed and slowly stood up. “Great Mistress, with all due respect, my mind and body are fatigued. I do not know how long—”

  “I am done with you, and now you wish to try my patience.” She let out an exasperated sigh and gestured sharply with her head toward a corner of the cave he hadn’t noticed before, where a jumble of mundane items sat—a small sack, some waterskins, and miscellaneous weapons and camping gear. “Evan went hunting this morning. I’m sure you will find something there. Take what you can carry and leave quickly.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Kaijin rummaged through the items. Bags contained an assortment of nuts and berries, and the two waterskins were half full. Kaijin also dug his haversack from among the gear, and quickly stuffed a waterskin and some of the food into it.

  Kyniythyria watched him for a moment before moving away from the mouth of the cave. She curled up in her empty nest and rested her head on the cool ground. Sparks flickered in her eyes and then subsided. “Evan and Sephiya’s deaths were unfortunate but honorable. They protected my home and did their duty. As much as I would rather deal with the Legion myself, I fear I would only risk my child’s safety. They would call for reinforcements. All this could very well be a trap for me, an attempt to draw me out of my home to search for my child.”

  “It sounds like a clever plan, Great Mistress,” Kaijin replied. He finished packing and secured the straps on his haversack. “If it succeeded, they could kill both you and your child.” He slung the bag across his shoulders.

  Kyniythyria let out an irritated growl. “Indeed. I expect you to show them no mercy, Firebrand of Ignis. Now, go.”

  Without hesitation, Kaijin left, and Miele swooped down from the cave’s shadowy ceiling and followed. He began his descent down the mountain path, walking quickly in hopes of catching up with his companions. Still, Kyniythyria’s words echoed in his mind.

  No mercy ...

  XVIII

  Nester and the rest of the group trekked swiftly through the Mallowyn Crags, the foothills that surrounded Kyniythyria’s mountain. They stopped to rest, but only until the sky brightened with dawn, and then they were off again. They had found no clues of the Legion’s whereabouts. Nester glanced behind him, seeing how everyone was faring.

  “Gods, I am still tired,” Omari grumbled as he straggled behind the group. “Why could we have not rested a little while longer?” Sitting comfortably on Omari’s shoulder, Percival watched their surroundings.

  Sigmund glanced over his shoulder. “I share your sentiments, Omari, but we must press on.”

  “Kyniythyria’s child depends on it,” Aidan added.

  Omari scoffed. “If I am to be of any use in these endeavors, then I require ample rest, lest I risk clumsily mis-casting spells.”

  “Oh, quit your complain’, mate.” Nester said. “We’re all tired. But that’s what makes things interestin’, eh? Besides, what’s to say this ain’t part of your Citadel test?”

  “This is not part of my test. I was specifically instructed to have my staff enchanted, and that was all. I am only delaying these efforts by foolishly trudging through unfamiliar lands in search of an entire army.”

  Nester rolled his eyes. “Oy! You may think I’m not th’ brightest light in th’ ’arbor, but even I know that fiddlers are th’ most convoluted blokes this side of Aransiya. They say one thing, but they really mean somethin’ else. That’s ’ow it goes, aye? Always keeps you thinkin’ an’ all that?”

  “What?”

  “It’s a rather sneaky scheme, if you ask me. And I like it.” Nester laughed.

  “There is nothing ‘sneaky’ about this. I would have completed my task and already been on my way back to the Citadel if I had not encountered you people.”

  Nester shook his head. “Nay, if you ’adn’t encountered us, you’d be lookin’ for those slayers by your own soddin’ self.”

  Omari swore under his breath.

  “That’s enough, you two.” Zarya said. “The goddess has brought us together to work for a greater, common cause. These are Her children we are helping. It’s a high honor and blessing that very few have the opportunity to experience.”

  Omari turned his head away, scowling bitterly.

  “Aye, aye. I know, beautiful.” Nester nodded.

  Zarya looked away and lowered her head.

  Aidan brought up the rear, walking a few paces behind Omari. “Aidan is hoping we finish this soon, as well. There has been too much violence—too much death.”

  Omari walked to the side, acknowledging the giant with a sneer. “You and your anti-violence fixation,” he grumbled. “Do we even know where we are going, exactly?”

  Nester halted and unfolded his large map. “We’re ’eadin’ south toward th’ Carran Marches. And if we keep walkin’ in this direction, we’ll be in Ankhram in a few days.”

  “Ankhram!” Omari exclaimed, blinking.

  Hearing everyone halt behind him, Nester faced them and nodded. “Aye, an’ I don’t know ’bout you guys, but I’d rather avoid tho
se lands like th’ plague. Nothin’ worthwhile there, anyway—just sand everywhere.”

  “We are not going to Ankhram,” Sigmund said. “We are going to search this area. Stay vigilant, everyone. We must work quickly.”

  Aidan turned to Zarya. “Is something wrong?”

  The priestess snapped her head up. “Ah, no. Nothing,” she said quickly. “Let’s be off.” She promptly resumed walking and brushed past the rest of the group.

  Nester folded his map and looked behind him. In the distance, he could see the mountain that held Kyniythyria’s cave. Its peak was almost completely shrouded in a thick, lingering haze, which made it look haunted, forbidding. “She was plenty mad at us, She was,” Nester mused. “Acted like we were th’ ones who prigged ’er egg!”

  Omari rolled his eyes again. “Would you not feel threatened if someone stole your child, Nester?”

  “Mmm ... Well, I don’t rightfully know. I ain’t got any li’l ones.”

  Omari groaned. “Thank Malik.”

  Nester thoughtfully stroked his sideburns. “Say, you don’t think She’s gonna do somethin’ to Kaijin, do you?”

  Zarya sharply eyed Nester. “What?”

  Nester froze. “I–I’m just sayin,’ beautiful. I mean, She did kinda rush us all out. I didn’t wanna leave, but, well ... It ain’t wise to anger a Dragon any more than they already are, aye?”

  “I believe She merely wished to interrogate your friend before entrusting him with searching for her child,” Sigmund said. “There is no need for alarm.”

  Chewing her bottom lip, Zarya looked at the guardian. Sigmund frowned at her. “Zarya, do you doubt the guardians of Exodus—those chosen by the goddess?”

  “No, I ... I am just worried about Kaijin.”

  Nester raised his eyebrows. “Aye? And ’ere I thought you wanted nothin’ to do with ’im.”

  Aidan smiled at Zarya. “Aidan is glad you do not hold any more ill feelings toward him.”

  “He is a disturbed man,” Zarya replied. “But in these past few days, I’ve had the opportunity to pray to the goddess and meditate. I’ve come to realize that Kaijin holds the key to the many answers I seek.”

  Omari stared down his nose at her. “Kaijin is but one man. He does not hold all the answers to life’s problems.”

  “I know, but—”

  Oh, this is gettin’ good. Nester smirked as he listened to his comrades.

  He spotted movement in the distance behind the priestess and squinted. A lone figure trudged the rocky path, heading toward them. Even at that distance, Nester could see the glow of the figure’s red hair. “Speakin’ of that fiery sod ...”

  * * *

  Kaijin, uncertain how long he’d been walking, continued following his instincts as he trudged through the rocky land. He wanted to stop, but his body refused, somehow. He felt something tugging at his mind, controlling his body.

  Where am I going? My companions are all gone. I am a fool to be exploring these unfamiliar lands alone.

  “You are exactly where you need to be,” the fiery voice replied.

  “And where is that? Lost?” Kaijin said aloud. When the voice didn’t respond, he continued lumbering along in silence. A sharp ping hit his mind, and he looked up just in time to see Miele fly off ahead.

  “Miele! What’s going on? What do you see?”

  A mental link with his familiar allowed Kaijin to see his friends, who walked not far ahead. At his urging, Miele zoomed toward the group. His stomach sank as he felt himself diving down from the sky, only to stop just shy of impact from the ground. Startled, the group stopped in their tracks to acknowledge Miele.

  “That is Kaijin’s familiar, is it not?” Sigmund pointed.

  Nester nodded. “Aye. She’s a wee li’l thing, but she packs a wallop with those ’uge, pointy teeth o’ hers. I bet she can eat a man in a single gulp!”

  Zarya laughed. “She is a fruit bat, Nester. A harmless fruit bat.”

  “’’Armless?’ She soddin’ near bit my ear off, she did!”

  Omari cleared his throat, and said sharply, “Does it matter what she is? The fact that she is here means that Kaijin is not too far. Let us find him and get this confounded task over with.”

  Aidan peered behind him. “Aidan will get him.”

  Kaijin severed the mental link and rubbed his eyes, feeling slightly disoriented. He looked up; Miele flew in circles around him. A cool breeze swept across his face, and a large shadow nearly eclipsed him. Kaijin found himself staring at a large, silver-scaled chest.

  Gods be damned, he’s intimidating! “A–Aidan?” Kaijin blinked.

  “Yes,” the giant replied. “Aidan is glad to see you safe. The others are waiting ahead. Can you walk?”

  “Uh ...”

  Aidan smiled and hefted him in his arms. Kaijin tensed, remembering Kyniythyria’s manhandling.

  “Come. Aidan will help.” The giant held him securely in his arms, rendering Kaijin unable to escape. Having witnessed Aidan’s wrath before, resisting him was the last thing Kaijin wanted to do. And Aidan could walk far more quickly than Kaijin.

  They approached the group.

  “Really, Aidan?” Omari scoffed, crossing his arms. “He could not just walk on his own like everyone else?”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Omari,” Kaijin quipped, flashing half a smile.

  Zarya frowned at Omari. “Who knows what terrible things the Mistress has done to him?” She then looked at Kaijin, her face softening.

  “Nothing,” Sigmund said, “else Kaijin would not be here now.”

  Aidan set Kaijin down and stood back. “Aidan was only helping.”

  “It’s best we carry on.” Sigmund set forth. “We can chat along the way.”

  Kaijin trailed behind his companions and watched them search their surroundings.

  “Walk faster, lest we leave you behind.” Omari broke Kaijin from his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was falling behind.” Kaijin quickened his pace. “Why couldn’t the Dragon let us all recuperate before setting out?”

  Omari slowed until Kaijin caught up. “The only thing on her mind is her missing child, which is understandable, but annoying. I cannot function this way. I sincerely hope I do not end up mis-casting a spell. Anyway, Zarya’s enchantments have allowed me—allowed all of us—to endure. But there is no telling how much longer she will be able to keep this up until she will need rest herself.”

  As Kaijin was about to reply, Miele shrieked. He winced, holding his head. “Ah ...”

  Omari raised an eyebrow. “What is it now?”

  Kaijin lowered his hands from his head. “Miele has made me rather jumpy lately. Ever since ...”

  “What? Confound it, get to the point already!”

  “My intermittent possession of Miele. It makes my stomach turn upside down every time it happens—hells, every time I think about it, for that matter.”

  Omari chuckled darkly. “You are frightened over that, Kaijin? How pathetic. And you call yourself a mage.”

  “I can sense Miele’s feelings. But actually flying with her? Thank the gods I’m not afraid of heights.”

  “She is a bat. Moreover, possessing one’s familiar is as normal as breathing. Surely, they taught you that in school.”

  “Yes, my master taught me about it, but this is the first time I’m actually experiencing it.”

  Omari watched him coolly. “So, as I suspected, your training was piss-poor, and here is proof of it. So now I suppose it is up to me to teach you something that a novice learns during their first year at the Citadel.”

  Kaijin stiffened. “Now, wait a minute. I—”

  “Look, Kaijin. It is obvious that I am more advanced than you.” He eyed Kaijin with pity. “Your ‘experience’ is one of the basic aspects of having a familiar. A mage is so attached to their familiar that they have the ability to possess them mentally. How could you possibly not have experienced this?”

  Kaijin ignored
the insults for a moment and thought about his experiences during his training and the first time he acquired Miele. “Miele and I have been together since I was ten, and it’s never happened before. I guess my master was right. A mage never stops learning. Does this mean you can possess Percival at will, too?”

  Omari inclined his head slightly. He scratched the weasel behind the ears, and Percival trilled softly. “Yes, though I do not exercise that skill unless I must. I prefer to give Percival his freedom.”

  “I see.” Kaijin rubbed his chin. He laughed. “My master once said that familiars are an extension of your self. I didn’t realize he was being so literal.”

  Omari huffed. “Your master was incompetent to not tell you about something so exceptionally basic. You do realize that such incompetence is not tolerated at the dignified schools?” He bore his gaze on Kaijn. “Schools like the one I attended, the most highly-esteemed school in all the lands: the Ghaeldorund Citadel.”

  Kaijin tensed and frowned slightly. “My master, Jarial, was an excellent teacher. I still have nothing but the utmost respect for him, and I would appreciate it if you would not speak about him in that manner.”

  Omari halted and spun around, wide-eyed and pale. “Jarial? As in Jarial Glace? He was your master?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?” Kaijin drew up alongside him.

  “Know him? What student of the Citadel does not know a member of the Council of Nine! The members of that council are the backbone of Ghaeldorund, overseers of the Citadel. Master Glace was the fifth-tier master of the Council, specializing in illusion.”

  “You two, don’t fall behind!” Sigmund called, his gaze stern. He beckoned for them to catch up.

  Kaijin quickened his pace, as did Omari. “Master Jarial mentioned that he was once part of the Citadel, but he never told me much more than that. What was it like for you, studying under him?”

  Omari gazed up at the sky, thinking. “He was very strict. He pushed us to our limits, but only to bring out the best in all of us. He was admired by many, including me. He departed from the Citadel not long after I entered my third year there. I was almost seven years old at the time. His council seat was replaced by Master Faulk—who, though not as strict, was a master that a student learned quickly not to underestimate.”

 

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