After some time of hiking, the smoke began to hinder Kaijin’s visibility, and he could barely see the rest of his group. The smell of burning wood bit at his senses. The temperature increased, and the air became drier the higher they ascended.
Suddenly, the smoke parted for Kaijin, revealing the golden structure not far away.
He heard a faint rumble and halted. He tried to pinpoint the sound. “Did you hear that?” he asked.
Zarya, Omari, and Nester looked around curiously.
“Was that thunder?” Zarya asked.
“Ugh! I ’ope not!” Nester put his hands over his head, anticipating rain.
Omari narrowed his eyes suspiciously and slowly turned his head, looking behind him. “No ... that sounds like a—”
“Sorry, Aidan is hungry.” Smiling sheepishly, Aidan patted his stomach. It rumbled again.
Omari rolled his eyes; Zarya twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile; Kaijin and Nester simultaneously sighed in relief.
The group resumed their trek and soon reached the end of the smoke-lined path. The smoke lifted, and Kaijin stood before a shallow staircase that led up to two massive, ornately carved shining brass doors. A tall, burning brazier sat on each side of the doors and lit up the entire entrance with dancing flames.
“It’s more amazin’ than when I was ’ere last!” Nester rubbed his eyes and blinked several times. “It’s like ... everything’s even more shiny!”
Kaijn called to Miele, and she swooped down to land on his shoulder. He slowly ascended the stairs and examined the doors. A pattern of flames was etched along the frame. Looking closely, Kaijin could also make out what looked like runes engraved in the door, but he was uncertain of what they said. He ran his fingers along the warm etchings, admiring every intricate detail.
“Are you in there, Ignis?”
There was no answer.
Kaijin pressed his ear to the door and listened. While he heard nothing on the other side, the door itself felt very warm. A ripple of white fire trailed up the length of the doors and disappeared. Kaijin pulled away and tilted his head back, staring up at the massive doors in amazement.
Zarya approached Kaijin and stood beside him. “This is truly a work of art, Kaijin,” she said, tone hushed.
Nester squeezed his way between them and scrutinized the door. “This was as far as I got before some of th’ warders discovered me an’ shooed me off. I still ain’t figured out ’ow to open this soddin’ door. No keyholes or even a ’andle! There ain’t no easy way we’re gonna get this open.”
“Do not tell me we came all this way for nothing,” Omari grumbled. He held Percival in his arms and stroked his back.
While the rest of the group chatted, Aidan approached the door. He gave three firm knocks. “Hello? Is anyone home?”
Everyone immediately stopped talking and gawked at the giant. Aidan looked back at them and smiled politely.
Omari slapped his forehead. “Great. Just what we need: A bunch of Ignan priests angry at us for disturbing them! Great going, Aidan!”
Aidan’s smile faded. “Well, how else will they know we are here?”
Before anyone could answer, unlocking sounds came from within. The chattering of two voices rose. Moments later, one of the doors opened a crack, and a robed, middle-aged, bearded man peeked out. The scent of burning charcoal wafted from inside.
“Yes?” the man asked gruffly.
Aidan tensed and expectantly looked over his shoulder at Kaijin.
Kaijin swallowed and stepped forward. He could feel the man’s gaze piercing him. “Ah ... m—my name is Kaijin. Kaijin Sora. I am ... a follower of the Firelord, and have come here—at His behest, I think.”
The man flinched. He opened the door a little wider, and another man, shorter, but dressed similarly, appeared beside him. The bright colors of the shorter man’s robe gave off the illusion of fire. He scrutinized the group curiously.
“’E’s a Firebrand, your majesties!” Nester blurted. “A Dragon said so!” He nodded sagely.
“Nester!” Zarya elbowed him in his chest, glaring at him.
“Ow! What? It’s true, ain’t it? An’ maybe they won’t shoo us off like they did me!”
The two robed men briefly sneered at the brownie, evidently remembering him.
“If you would give me the honor, sirs,” Kaijin said, lowering his head and revealing his necklace to them from under his robes, “I simply seek answers. May my companions and I enter?”
The men’s eyes widened slightly. The shorter man pulled the door all the way open. “Yes, brother. You and your companions may. I bid you welcome. I am Canicus. That is Brett.”
Beaming, Kaijin stepped across the threshold. He beckoned his friends to follow.
Brett stopped Nester. “Not so fast, brownie. Are you really with him?”
“I swear on my Pa’s grave that I’m with Kaijin, aye! ’E’s my best mate! We’ve gone on adventures together, ’aven’t we, Kaijin?”
“Yes, uh, of course,” Kaijin said absently, his attention drawn to the brass-colored interior of the building. The yellow and orange high-ceilinged chamber stretched upward for several stories. Large red and gold tapestries embroidered with Ignis’s holy symbol hung along the walls of the main hall. The tall arched stained-glass windows tinted the light a bright orange. The polished black obsidian floor reflected the dancing flames of the numerous braziers and torches lining the walls and aisles.
At the center of the main hall was a raised platform with twenty shallow stairs leading up on all four sides. Atop the platform was a massive burning brazier—which, though not as ornate as the rest of the interior, contained beautiful white flames that leapt from within, and plumes of white smoke rose up the main atrium. The brazier gave off the brightest light and a heat so soothing that Kaijin didn’t want to leave. Robed priests stood around the brazier, appearing to be in deep meditation.
“This way,” Brett called, leading the group. Canicus brought up the rear, to ensure no one in the group strayed.
Kaijin followed a few steps behind Brett. As he took in his surroundings, too lost for words at the sheer beauty of this place, he pulled out his necklace from beneath his robes and prominently sported it. Robed men and women bustled throughout the main hall, whispering amongst themselves while their hardened gazes focused primarily on Kaijin.
The group was escorted to the foot of one of the stairs leading to the platform. Kaijin gazed upward at a group of priests who stood in a circle and realized they were praying. One of the priests, an elderly man, paused, and looked toward him curiously.
“Stay here, Kaijin,” Brett ordered, holding his arm out, barring him from continuing.
Kaijin obeyed, not taking his gaze off the circle of priests. Brett gathered the skirts of his robes and climbed the stairs to speak with one priest. They spoke in hushed tones for several minutes before Brett gestured for Kaijin to come join them. Kaijin did so without question, not even looking back at his companions. He now knew what he needed to do—it was clear to him while he treaded these holy grounds. There were no voices speaking in his mind, nor were there unknown presences possessing his body. He was, once again, at peace with himself. He stood before the two priests, then bowed his head. The other priests in the circle paused their prayers for a moment to acknowledge Kaijin.
“Kaijin, this is Vargas, high cleric of the Vein,” Brett explained.
Kaijin furrowed his brow. Vein? He politely bowed, hoping to hide his confusion.
“Greetings, Brother of the Flame,” Vargas said with a nod. “You have piqued my interest. I sense you have come a great distance.”
“Oh yes, sir, I have.” Kaijin nodded firmly.
“Indeed, the Firelord has deemed you worthy to be here.”
Kaijin glanced at the other priests, then looked behind him at his companions. Some of the other robed clergy had stopped their daily chores and gathered around the platform to listen.
He turned back around and cleared
his throat. “Honorable priest, I’ve come here seeking answers—about myself, about the Firelord, and about my purpose. I don’t know what I can offer you in exchange for this knowledge, but I will do my best to repay whatever debt you deem worthy....” He sighed softly. “I must warn you that I am ... a mage.” They must know. And hopefully they will understand.
Vargas’s eyebrows rose. Several clergymembers murmured to each other. “Are you, now? Well, you are not the first mage who has walked in here, nor will you be the last. But you ... There is something different about you than other mages.” He made a small gesture with his head. “Come with me, Kaijin. Let us talk in private.” He called forth Brett and a few of the clergymembers lingering nearby. “See to it that Kaijin’s companions are given ample hospitality.”
“Yes, Honored One.” Brett gave the elderly man a respectable bow, nodded to Kaijin, and then descended the stairs. There was hesitation in their steps as he and the other clergymembers quietly escorted Kaijin’s group to a corridor that branched off to a room to the left of the main atrium.
Yes! Thank you, Ignis! Kaijin smiled at them until the last person left, then followed Vargas. He was led to the rear of the main hall, to a separate corridor that was lighted by rows of brightly burning braziers and decorated by hanging tapestries and portraits.
He glanced at one of the portraits as they passed. It depicted a regal man in flaming armor, posing victoriously with a spiked chain in one hand. Fire burned in his soulless-looking eyes. The background was washed with gradients of oranges, reds and yellows, which gave the illusion that the man was practically made of fire.
Kaijin felt some familiarity with the being in the portrait. He stayed silent and relished the warmth of the corridor they walked through.
Vargas opened ornate brass double doors that led into a secluded room at the far end of the corridor—an extravagant two-story library, or perhaps it was simply a pristine office. A cozy sitting area of plush, red velvet couches and chairs was in one corner. A desk sat in another corner of the room, while two floors’ worth of bookshelves stuffed with old, thick tomes lined the walls and extended to the ceiling.
Miele flew to the ceiling and remained there, watching Kaijin and Vargas.
The smell of old and fresh parchment made Kaijin salivate in delight. He breathed in the papery scents and closed his eyes, briefly remembering the days he spent studying magic and visiting the booksellers in Easthaven’s marketplace during his early childhood. His daydreaming came to a halt when he heard Vargas’s voice. Kaijin opened his eyes.
“I thought someone like you would find solace in a place like this.” Vargas indicated for Kaijin to sit.
“That’s an understatement, sir.” Kaijin sat on one of the couches. The plush velvet almost completely swallowed him; it was more comfortable than anything he’d ever felt. “So many books.... This—all of this—is truly amazing!”
Vargas laughed. “These books are just a few of many. Below us is another library: the largest Ignan library in all of Exodus. It is our sacred vault of recorded events, extending almost as far back as the days when the gods walked Exodus.”
Kaijin gasped. “An entire vault dedicated to Ignis?! I can’t believe it! I am honored that you have entrusted me with such valuable information.”
“Of course, Kaijin. You are a Firebrand and a chosen of Ignis. It is your right to know. The Celestials have been the primary contributors to many of the older works in the sacred vault. They have been known to be the race of creatures, second to the Dragons, to have the closest connection with the goddess. Through Her, they are provided essential information about the other gods, as well—like Ignis.”
“I think I’ve found my new home.”
“Perhaps you have, Kaijin. Do you wish to stay here? Though I do not think your companions would feel the same way.”
“My companions have their own purposes in life. And I now seemed to have found mine. I can finally learn the answers to the many questions that have been plaguing my mind for so long. Before, I thought I had lost everything. But here ... I feel as though I’ve gained the world. I came to know Ignis when I was very young. Strange things have happened ever since I acquired this necklace.” He indicated his holy symbol. “I see things. Feel things. My magic behaves oddly.”
“In what way?” Vargas raised a curious brow, eying the necklace.
“Sometimes I feel as though something has a hold of me, making me cast fire-based spells that I know are beyond my level of study. Sometimes my magic feels stronger than it usually is. Many times, I cannot control my own power. My former master says my magic is ‘tainted’ somehow—manipulated by a divine power. My companions and I met a Dragon recently, and She spoke of Ignis most likely being behind it all.”
Vargas looked surprised. “You met a Dragon, you say? The Dragon was, indeed, correct. A divine presence has made its way in you, leaving behind a powerful aura. The Firelord feeds on strength, not weakness.”
Kaijin pursed his lips. “A voice speaks to me, Honored Priest. A strange voice that sounds like fire. It toys with me—with my mind. It is very destructive. I’ve been labelled ‘mad’ and ‘strange’ and ‘a threat to society’ because of what happened in Easthaven....” He bit his tongue. The memory burned.
Vargas’s eyes narrowed slightly. “We have heard that people blamed magic as the cause of Easthaven’s destruction. What impact did you have on that city?”
“Undead invaded the city, afflicting many people and creating utter chaos. I helped fight back the creatures with my magic, and something took over. My magic was much stronger—so much so, I lost control. The next thing I knew, I woke up and found the city completely destroyed.”
“The power of Ignis manifested in you, giving you the ability to cleanse the city of its evil,” Vargas whispered, as if to himself.
Kaijin scowled. “‘Cleanse’? You mean ‘destroy’! I lost my entire family! They were not evil!”
“And how do you know the undead did not afflict them, as well?”
Kaijin’s stomach lurched. His parents had been mutilated beyond recognition. Kaijin tried consulting the presence in his mind, but no one answered.
“Kaijin?” Vargas called.
Kaijin suddenly broke from his trance and blinked several times. “I ... I don’t know what happened prior to discovering their corpses. I just know what I ... felt. If Ignis favors me, then why has He allowed me to witness the death of my family? Why has he used me to destroy?”
“You cannot question His actions, Kaijin. It is in His nature to destroy, in order to purify the world. You have my condolences for the loss of your family. You must understand, however: You, as a Firebrand, are being used by Ignis for His agenda.”
Kaijin looked up helplessly. “And what is His agenda?”
“That is something only He can reveal to you. But know this: All that you have experienced and endured has not been a mistake.” Vargas placed his hand on Kaijin’s shoulder.
Kaijin shivered. The touch was comforting but confusing. It was not a mistake to lose my family?! His blood boiled. The world around him shifted to a red-orange hue. Feeling the presence manifest within him, he gritted his teeth.
Vargas gently squeezed Kaijin’s shoulder. “Kaijin. Calm yourself.”
Kaijin saw a reflection of two glowing fiery orbs in Vargas’s eyes, and he mentally gasped. Are my eyes glowing? Have I been possessed?
“Kaijin!”
“Kaijin.”
“No,” Kaijin responded aloud to the fiery voice. “What do you want? Have I not done what you asked?”
“Kaijin!” Vargas barked.
The two voices around Kaijin become a jumble of words. “No, I don’t want to lose control ... Not again ...”
He saw Easthaven burning; his brother’s pale, bloody face as he died; his parents’ mutilated bodies; his master, Jarial’s disgust in the aftermath of the city’s destruction.
Death. Too much death.
Kaijin’s breathin
g went ragged, and he slumped. Please, put me out of my misery. Take me out of this nightmare.
Vargas lay hands on Kaijin’s head. “Almighty Ignis, we beseech your holy flames for guidance.”
Energy surged through Kaijin. The sensation was both familiar and impossible to resist. “It’s you.”
Another voice, hissing and crackling like flames, spoke from Kaijin’s lips. “I have brought this boy to this sanctuary to fulfill My work. He is My disciple.”
Vargas promptly released Kaijin and fell to his knees, fear washing over his face. “Y—yes, Almighty Ignis! Your will be done! Your holy flames shall burn brighter and stronger than ever!”
Kaijin’s head canted, and his eyes narrowed, staring at the priest. Kaijin saw a glimpse into Vargas’s heart—it seemed unsettled, perhaps from his fear. “See that it is so. Fail in this task, and you will be consumed in my raging whitefire; your life will be forever forgotten in the blaze of death.” Kaijin’s lips curled into a smirk.
A small part of Kaijin’s subconscious spoke out to the possessor. “Was that a threat? A forewarning? Do you see something in him that he does not?”
But Kaijin received no response.
“By your holy flames, I will see to it that he is educated and trained,” Vargas groveled.
Kaijin regarded Vargas without sympathy. “There is no room for failure—there is no room for weakness.”
The divine presence left Kaijin. He slumped back into the couch and exhaled, feeling something let go inside.
He gazed up at the pristine ceiling and the walls of portraits and tapestries. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the bookshelves and soon remembered where he was. The hazy world around him reacquired its natural colors. Somehow, he managed to decipher Ignis’s strange context, and it made him feel stronger than before.
“Part of the process of learning your seventh, eighth, and ninth-tiered spells is seeking the knowledge yourself,” Jarial once told Kaijin.
Was this what he meant? Have I finally reached that point in my understanding? Kaijin felt alive, renewed, beyond anything he thought himself capable of.
Enflamed (Book 2) Page 26
