Wielder of the Flame

by Nikolas Rex

  Redmor gave a low squawk of your welcome.

  Marc took the reins and jumped up onto the saddle strapped around the aldom.

  “This is from the Oracle, it is called scry glass. You can hold it while we ride, we will move slowly until you are finished. If you have any further questions afterwards, I will answer them to the best of my abilities.”

  Cydas handed Marc what looked to be a rectangle of perfectly clear cut glass with an outside gold rim that aligned all four sides of the glass.

  “What is this?”

  “Simply clear your thoughts and repeat the following,” Cydas replied, “My eyes to see, my ears to hear, my mind is ready.”

  Marc nodded and turned to the object in his hand.

  Magic is such a strange thing here.

  My eyes to see, my ears to hear, my mind is ready. Marc repeated silently.

  Immediately the glass began to glow and change.

  He was no longer looking at the glass, but felt as if he was moving into it.

  It was as if his attention was split in half. He could still feel his body atop the aldom, moving along gently, but his aura, his conscious was here, wherever here was.

  ***

  Marc found himself in a large, tall room separated only by curtains. The middle was the most open area. It was slightly lower than the rest of the room and filled with many pillows of different sizes and color. In the center of the arrangement of pillows a small space was cleared where a low table rested on the floor. The walls were covered with shelves festooned with old books and rolled up scrolls and other odds and ends. Beads and feathers tied carefully together hung from the ceiling. The place seemed messy because of the nature of the many decorations adorning the walls and shelves and the many strange devices and magical ornaments lying about, yet it was an orderly chaos because of their placement around the large room. One of the walls of the room was made of clear glass and jutted out, with a semi-circle clear glass roof. It looked out upon a breathtaking snow covered mountain landscape. He stood before the clear wall, staring down at the serene drifts of snow.

  “Hello Marcus,” a calm female voice said softly behind him.

  He turned around to see the owner of the voice.

  She was beautiful. Her hair was long and golden, carefully decorated with feathers and beads. Her eyes were green and spoke of youth, tempered by knowledge and wisdom, making her exact age hard to determine. She appeared young but held herself with the insight of age. Simple yet beautiful, gold, blue, green, and red bracelets covered her arms and tinkled lightly as she moved. Underneath her blue coat was a set of clothes made from a fabric material the likes of which was a supernatural combination of a myriad of colors that flowed together, defying all laws of nature.

  “I am the Oracle, and yet I am not the Oracle.”

  Her voice was soothing, enchanting.

  “What do you mean?” Marc asked.

  “I have given up a small portion of myself to this ancient artifact so that I may speak with you. I would have appeared to you sooner if I could risk it, but the eyes of darkness know my magic and would visit me with destruction in an instant if it knew where to find me. It is a risk even to do a thing such as this, but it is a risk I must take, for all our sakes.”

  Marc opened his mouth to speak but she raised her hand and he remained silent.

  “I know you have many questions and I will try to answer the most important ones first.”

  Marc nodded.

  “A darkness is rising in Lyrridia. Every cycle the warmth of Refoveo fades quicker than the last, and with each Gelu the snows come heavier and longer. Crops and trees are not as fruitful, many go hungry. There are whispers and rumors of war. An evil is gathering in the East, an ancient evil from the War of Power. It is infecting the land, spreading the wild magics closer and closer into civilization. The Wildlands have grown closer to Biarlin in the past cycle alone than it has in the twenty cycles before it. I have seen you and Laura with the Fae Ones. I know of the vision you had of their death.”

  “But they weren’t all dead,” Marc spoke up, “There was quite a few left in hiding there.”

  “What you saw were only memories of them, strong, powerful, magical memories, but if you were to return to that place you would find nothing. Their destruction came about because of this evil, and it is returning.”

  Marc felt a heavy weight upon him as he remembered the vision of the faeries.

  “I wouldn’t wish that to happen to anyone, those responsible shouldn’t get away with it!”

  “That is why you are here Marcus. You have a good heart, pure and strong. I have seen your world, I know where you have come from. It is a much different place than here. Your world is yet young, and thriving, even without the aid of magic.”

  “Did you bring me here?” Marc asked.

  The Oracle shook her head with a smile and let out a little laugh, “No, I am not nearly that powerful. There are others whose powers exceed even my understanding. They brought you. You were chosen to come here.”

  “But why me?”

  The Oracle gave a comforting smile, “I cannot answer all your questions now, my time to speak is too short. But when you come to see me, I will be able to tell you more.”

  Marc nodded and fell silent. He had so many questions.

  “In the beginning, here, The Creators placed an enchanted crystal. This crystal held the key to magic. A guardian was chosen among the Creators to keep man from the stone until they were ready for its power to be released upon the lands. When the time came the power of the stone was released and magic was summoned from within. From that time hence, man was able to summon forth the mysteries of magic to use and to grow. The Elves and other magical beings came forth to help teach us how to wield the new energies and harness them. The Crystal of the Great Dawn, the Summoning Stone, over the cycles it has had many names given to it from many different stories, but they are all the same crystal, the heart and source of all magic here. Sometime after the Crystal released magic into Lyrridia a group of powerful sorcerers was formed who called themselves the Ascendant Sages, one of them was named the Keeper. They swore to keep the Crystal safe from those who would use it for evil or unnatural purposes. For a long time they were able to do so, learning and studying the Crystal peacefully. Their discoveries advanced our world to great heights, allowing everyone to grow in magic’s power. After a time, however, one of the wizards in the order desired the crystal for himself to do as he pleased, unrestricted by the other Sages. Fortuitously, his intents were discovered before he could acquire the crystal, and he was banished. Then the War of Power began and he rose up among the many forces fighting in the Great War, standing out with his power and armies which he had been forming over many cycles. After many victories he turned his attention to Garduan’s Keep, where the Crystal was being held, his true purpose during the entire conflict.”

  “What was his name?”

  “He has many names now, Dark One, The Destroyer, Archfiend,” She paused, “Tremos,” her voice held a hint of terror in it.

  “What happened?”

  “Irroth was The Wielder of the Flame near the end of the War of Power. The Ascendant Sages who chose to defend the crystal selected him and trained him near the beginning of the war, hoping he could end the conflict. The Destroyer arrived at Garduan’s Keep with his army to take the crystal by force. There was a brutal battle to defend the Keep but Tremos broke through to the tower where the Crystal was held. Irroth fought the dark Overlord valiantly but realized that he would not be able to defeat the evil wizard. In a moment of swift decision Irroth raised the Sword of the Phoenix and brought it down on the Crystal, hoping to shatter it. He would rather see the Crystal destroyed than in the hands of the Dark One. Only a portion of the Crystal was cut away and shattered when struck, not the entire Crystal. Tremos was able to escape with the large part of the Crystal, but without all the pieces it will not do as he wishes.”

  “What does he want with it?�
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  “The crystal, as I said, is the source of all magic. If he is able to gather the remaining crystal shards together and reconstruct the crystal his powers will not only be insurmountable, but after he conquers this world, he will be able to cross over and do the same to your world.”

  “Where are the pieces?”

  “After the War of Power was over, the Keeper and a few others, including myself, and with help from those I have spoken of before, hid the crystal shards throughout Lyrridia, hoping to buy time until the next Wielder was chosen. Tremos had just discovered where the Keeper was holding the map before you came. He barely escaped with his life to deliver it to me. I have given it to Cydas to pass it on to you. It is not any ordinary map, nor will reading it be so,” She paused, then continued, “That was not the only thing that happened when the crystal was struck, however. A powerful force erupted from the crystal when it was hit, casting the Sword from here, into—”

  “My world,” Marc finished.

  The Oracle nodded.

  “My time is almost finished and I must speak of some final important things yet. The Sword of the Phoenix, the weapon that can only be used by the Wielder of the Flame, landed in your world, where it had been for a long time, until now. A small furry creature as black as night with green eyes that sparkle even in the dark, a creature I do not know, led you to the sword. The sword changes when not used by the Wielder, but it is still the Phoenix Blade and it still would only be of use to the true Wielder of the Flame. The creature had led many to the sword, but only you could wield it. Those who fought against this evil have all but already passed on, even if they were all still here they would be too old and too frail to stop this force once again. A new generation has been called, a new Wielder of the Flame has been chosen. That is you, Marcus.”

  “But I—”

  “Only the Wielder of the Flame can truly unleash the power of the Phoenix Blade. The other night, in Kolima, was more than enough proof of that. You are, without a shadow of a doubt, the true Wielder of the Flame.”

  Marc remembered the intense light in Kolima rising up from the sword, and the flames that surrounded him.

  “There will be stories now, people are already beginning to talk about the light in Kolima and what it means. Many have been waiting for a sign of the return of the sword and its wielder.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He knew the magic he felt was real, and could not deny it. But he was only a teenager!

  She could read Marc and see her words added weight to his thoughts.

  “I know it is a lot to take in, and you are so young, but you will not be alone. The others, in your dreams, they are real. Drake, the Ageless One, Puck, the Shifter, and Laura, the Unseen Pathwalker, as well as others who will come upon your course over time, will help to fight the darkness. I have sent Cydas, my beloved companion, to assist you. He will help you find the others.”

  The room began to fade and distort.

  “One final question Marcus, and I must go.”

  Marc thought for a moment, then asked, “What will we do once we are all together?”

  “After many cycles Tremos eventually discovered that the crystal shards were not just merely lost from the magical force sent out after the main crystal was struck, he found out that they were specifically hidden by his enemies, us. He also assumed that we were not foolish enough to hide the orbs without creating a map to them and did not relent until he discovered that we indeed had done so. The Keeper was given the charge to protect the map and keep it a secret. But the map was not the only part of the design. Enchanted orbs were created as a means of magical transportation, each orb was a direct line to a corresponding crystal piece, so that when the Sword of the Phoenix returned with its Wielder, we would be able to recollect the crystal pieces quickly for the Wielder of the Flame to safeguard with his followers. These orbs were also with the map under watch by The Keeper. It is with great regret that I must tell you that during the fight with Tremos, the orbs were destroyed, and in fact was the reason the Keeper was wounded beyond any ability to heal him, when he arrived, but he was able to do so with the map. When you have met with the others I would have you return to me so that I may instruct you further. That is all for now, I look forward to seeing you and the others, good luck.”

  And then she was gone, and the room was gone, and all went dark.

  ***

  Zildjin and Sesuadra watched as Marc’s eyes glowed white with the same light as the glass, and he sort of slumped in his saddle.

  Zildjin thought back to his own experience with a similar artifact but days ago. Eleanor, Topar, Sesuadra and him had all witnessed a shared vision. After Cydas introduced himself, he had produced an artifact and everyone at the table, after repeating the instructions, met with the Oracle. After Marc would not wake up, they were forced to leave the city with haste. With the visions The Oracle had given Cydas, he was able to help them avoid detection as they left the large coastal city behind, Marc still unconscious.

  Zildjin remembered Sesuadra and Eleanor stepping off into one of the other rooms before they left, to discuss something. Topar just stood by the door.

  Later, when they were saying their goodbyes Eleanor pulled Zildjin aside as well, but not to a different room, only a little ways from the others. Her tone had been gentle, yet unyielding.

  Zildjin, watch over Sesuadra. Bring him back when all this is over, he is your charge now.

  Zildjin had nodded in sort of way that was, ‘of course I always look after Sesuadra.’

  But Eleanor had looked Zildjin hard in the eyes and had put a hand on his shoulder.

  Of course, I will, all will be well.

  Only then had she nodded and finally said, Exalted keep and guide you.

  As the light from the glass in Marc’s hand faded and it returned to normal, bringing Marc back to them, Zildjin was brought out of his own thoughts as well.

  Cydas was there next to Marc with his arm outstretched.

  Marc handed him the object.

  “Well,” Marc said, “That explains a lot.”

  “Do you have any questions?” Cydas asked.

  “I do,” Marc answered, “But first I want to tell you about what I saw after I collapsed in Kolima.”

  ***

  Zildjin, Sesuadra, and Cydas listened intently as Marc described his vision he experienced with Laura, of the Faeries.

  He described appearing at the ruins of Zheund and meeting Laura. When he got to the part when Laura spoke of her magical ability, Cydas interrupted.

  “She truly is the one who can walk the unseen paths.”

  “Teleportation,” Marc said offhandedly.

  “What?” Zildjin and Cydas said almost at the same time.

  Sesuadra looked confused as well.

  “Where I am from,” Marc tried to think of a way to explain himself, “we call it Teleportation. It is the same idea as ‘to walk a path that no one can see.’ From what it sounds like, she can transport herself from one place to the next. I know that as teleportation, but it is just an idea where I come from, no one can actually do it.”

  “You truly come from a different place,” Zildjin commented aloud without really thinking.

  Marc shrugged and continued relating his story.

  He tried to convey all the emotions and feelings that went through him as he watched the Faeries at the height of their existence, only to be wiped out in a terrible wave of slaughter and destruction. Tremos was responsible for their deaths, and he was rising again.

  “Keeping the crystal shards out of his grasp are the key to stopping him,” Cydas emphasized.

  Marc nodded.

  “Zheund was a vast city, one of the greatest to exist,” Sesuadra said, his interest piqued enough to open his mouth, “Tasard was rumored to have founded the place, expanding its walls as quickly as his power was great. There are some relic hunters who have claimed to have visited the ruins, but none could describe as to its exact location.”

&nbs
p; “But Kolima,” Zildjin said, jumping back into the conversation and mentioning the message Marc had left in the dirt, “We are not in Kolima anymore,”

  “Exactly!” Marc said, “Why do you think I want to go back?”

  “We cannot go back,” Cydas said.

  “But Laura,” Marc replied.

  “All will be well,” Cydas said, “But a measure of patience must be exhibited until that time.”

  Marc let out a sigh.

  “Eleanor, then, and Topar,” Marc brought up feebly, as another reason to return, “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

  “I told them we would send a message as soon you awoke.”

  Marc shrugged, yielding his argument. He wanted so badly to return to Kolima, but understood that he could not. He thought of Laura.

  Thinking of Laura led him to remember the moment he had after leaving Laura, the small bird he saw in the silvery realm. He was about to share his thoughts but a feeling inside him prompted him not too. For some reason, it felt too sacred to just casually bring up. Perhaps another time to speak of it would be more appropriate, he thought.

  “Well,” He said, “can I see the map?”

  Cydas nodded, “You may.”

  He moved a shoulder bag around to open it up, from it he withdrew a metallic rod. Small engravings were etched along it in a seamless pattern. There seemed to be no way to open it. On one of the sides a figure was engraved there. Cydas handed the rod to him. Zildjin and Sesuadra arched their necks for a better look, Marc let them see as he inspected it.

  Marc withdrew the Phoenix Blade from at his side and looked at the base of the blade. The figure engraved on the end of the rod was the same that was embossed on the sword. A Phoenix. They matched perfectly.

  Marc lined the sword base up with the engraving on the rod. There was a flash of light and the symbols decorating the metal object slowly lit up. Marc withdrew the sword from the rod and sheathed it. A line appeared on the metal and a sort of grip formed. Marc pulled gently on the lever and a map slowly withdrew from the rod. It was an enclosed scroll.