Fireborn Champion

by AB Bradley

  Iron’s gaze fixed on his master. A truth swirled within those words, one he’d longed to know since his earliest memories. “This was the secret? All along, this was the secret you couldn’t say.”

  The man’s face contorted as tears glimmered in his eyes. “I sin to save a life, and I fear what frees us here dooms us later. Her words were clear, but there is only death for us and all others unless you say the words. Forgive me, Burning Mother, for I sin against you. Oh gods, forgive me.”

  Sander swallowed and stepped forward. “You don’t need to learn the Mother’s stance because you know it. We all know it. The Mother’s stance is sacrifice. It is the most powerful and purest of all the stances.”

  “There is no hope without sacrifice,” Nephele added.

  His master nodded and bore a smile weighed by old memories. “And so she came to the temple that night of the Godfall with a little boy in her arms. The Mother stepped into the Ever-Burning Flame, sacrificing her power so her son might live to save us all.”

  Flames. Fury. Screams. A mother’s warm embrace. They came in rhythmic flashes like one wave after another smashing against a ship at sea. He looked blankly at Fang. “I am the Mother’s son. She was the doe, the fish, the bird, the voice.”

  “Say the words,” Sander screamed. “Caspran is fighting our hold. We can keep him weak, but you must destroy him. Say the words, Fireborn!”

  “Say the words!” Nephele and Sigrid yelled.

  “Say the words!” Batbayar roared.

  “Say the words,” Kalila said in a voice deep and calm as the Sapphire Sea. “You know them. Say them, for my sister. For all those who died at Sol’s hands.”

  The Six’s stars dazzled in a black dome. Iron swallowed and nodded. He pointed Fang at the sky. “The circle is sealed. I am Iron, Priest of the Burning Mother, Son of Prophecy and Champion of the Six.”

  The alp ripped from his bonds. A crack of thunder rocked the desert. Light blazed from Fang like Iron had torn a shard from the sun itself. The radiance didn’t blind him. It poured warmth through his body, warmth that gave him strength. Warmth that turned his wounds into pulsing echoes.

  Iron saw himself reflected in Caspran’s maddened eyes. And then, his reflection ignited.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Shattered Glass

  Fire blazed around Iron’s arms and cloaked his body in crackling heat. Yet, it did not consume him, it bonded with him.

  There, in the flames, he saw her on the horizon. A young woman with hair rolling over shoulders like a mighty river cascading around her delicate chin and round, rosy cheeks. Her eyes, eternity churned within those eyes. She wore a dress of roiling flames, and a blazing ring crowned her.

  His mother crossed her hands upon her heart and smiled. Thank you, my love. Her lips did not move, but her voice echoed through the sky. I love you, Iron. I burn for you above all others. Remember me and I will rise again.

  “You cannot kill a god,” he murmured. “You can only forget them. I will never forget you.”

  She nodded and receded into darkness. A world once slowed resumed its spin as Caspran launched a knuckled fist.

  Iron snatched the alp’s wrist and flung him aside.

  Caspran stumbled. He caught his balance and swiveled, kicking at Iron’s chest. Iron ducked beneath the boot and thrust his sword toward Caspran’s chin. The alp grasped the blade with a sneer. “You think a weapon can hurt me, Fireborn? Not even the Fang of Asgeron can stand against the Serpent’s power.”

  Iron smirked and ripped the sword from Caspran’s hold. Blood curtained the air and splattered onto the sand. Caspran shrieked and clutched the wrist of his wounded hand. He stared, wide eyed, at the gash streaming scarlet from his palm.

  “Fang remembers how to bite,” Iron said. “And by the looks of it, you’re not healing. How’s that faith of yours now, Brother Caspran? Still hard as glacier ice?”

  “How…?” Caspran’s body trembled. He scowled at Iron, bits of foam collecting in the corners of his lips.

  “Your time has ended, alp, for the second time.” Iron pointed the blade at his enemy and lifted his chin. “The Six may have fallen, but they aren’t forgotten. I will find a way to bring them back. I will find a way to stop Sol. I will save the Third Sun and everyone who lives beneath it. You can die knowing you’ve failed. Again.”

  Caspran wiped his mouth and smiled. “I’m not dead yet, unlike your formerly pretty girlfriend.”

  Iron shook his head as a new fury ignited in his heart. This was not the rage of hate, of venom, or of vengeance. No, this fury blossomed from the blood of innocents who fell before the Serpent Sun, their voices crying for justice. Iron focused on the demon’s eyes, and they focused on him.

  “Let’s end this, Caspran.”

  “Let’s.”

  Sand spun in veiled waves around them as they danced in their deadly duel. Caspran flattened his fingers and struck Iron’s shoulder. Nails bit flesh, and a sharp stab racked his chest. Iron cried out as another swift strike from the heel of Caspran’s palm cracked his rib.

  The flames cloaking Iron roiled. His magic quickened his footsteps, but so did Caspran’s. They matched one another in power, but the alp’s experience granted him the slightest edge.

  Iron stumbled to a knee and caught knuckles in his jaw. Blood wet his lips and tickled his chin, the vision in his left eye blurred.

  Glee painted a grin on Caspran’s face and gave his eyes a hungry luster. Like a glory hawk swooping on a hare, the alp knew he had his prey.

  Iron swiped a blow aside but caught Caspran’s boot against his leg. He screamed as bone shattered, and he hit the ground.

  “Even with the Six’s power, you’re no match for the Serpent,” Caspran hissed. The alp’s hair swirled like a ghost as he towered over Iron. “My master wants you alive. He didn’t say he needed you in one piece.”

  Pain swelled in Iron’s chest with each breath. Blood stained his tunic and wet his lips. Black edged his world, the creep of oblivion falling over him. Iron slashed toward Caspran. The alp danced back with a wild laugh. The others kept to their circle, desperately feeding Iron their power.

  Sander wavered.

  “No!” Iron yelled. “Don’t or the circle will break. I need the power, master.”

  Sander nodded, although his fear continued to wrinkle his brow.

  Caspran stalked forward. He cracked his neck and flashed his amber eyes.

  Iron thought back to his days in the Everfrosts, to that time he rode the thundersnow and soared above the land like a god. There was such peace there, such tranquility. Once he died, that world would never exist again. No one would ride the thundersnows. No one would soar. Instead, they’d be little more than bones like the titans who came before them, a relic of a Sun passed.

  Slip through his fingers like smoke and shadow, his mother whispered.

  He frowned. He knew those words. But his mother hadn’t spoken them. No, Sander spoke them one day beneath the shadows of the Everfrosts that seemed an eternity ago.

  Caspran grinned. A shard slipped from his clothes and hovered over his bleeding palm.

  You get one chance. Make sure it counts.

  Smoke and shadow, a Sinner’s technique. What blasted lesson was it? What spell?

  The alp raised his flattened palm. The shard was a glint of silver against the slick red blossom of his skin.

  “I think I’ll take an eye from you and wear it like a necklace,” Caspran said.

  Iron clenched his jaw and leaned back from the approaching razor blade. Smoke. Shadow. One chance.

  His eyes shot wide. He remembered now.

  The Sinner’s magic erupted around him. “You want to end this? End it.” Iron spat on Caspran’s cheek.

  “Good night, sweet boy.” The alp wiped the glistening glob from his face and snapped.

  The razor zipped toward Iron. He closed his eyes, and the Sinner’s magic sealed around him.

  The alp’s razor pierced Iron’s eye.
Caspran screamed in glee as Iron fell to the sand and writhed.

  “I did it!” Caspran jumped in happy circles. “I did it! I did it! Hahahaha! Yes, the Serpent Sun shall rise. It shall rise and cleanse this land of filth. Master, oh master, your loyal servant has succeeded!”

  He landed, clapping his hands. When he did, Iron’s body vanished in a poof of black mist.

  The alp’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Caspran screamed, whirling around. Black mist congealed behind him, and Iron stepped from it. He rammed Fang through the demon’s chest.

  Flesh tore. Caspran gasped, clutching the steel. Blood ran down the blade and soaked his chalky clothes.

  “It’s called a decoy,” Iron said as he shoved the blade deeper. Its glowing tip jutted from Caspran’s back. “I only get one good chance to use it, so I had to make it count.”

  Iron’s flames licked at Brother Caspran, scorching flesh and bubbling blisters. The alp spat blood, but the flames quickly turned those to scarlet mist.

  Caspran’s lips contorted in a snarl. His fingers pressed with all the clumsy strength of an infant against Iron’s cheek. “You…you know nothing…”

  The alp’s eyes fixed on Iron. He saw the hate, the malice, and the unbridled power sputtering within them. And then, the oblivion that had come for Iron swallowed Caspran instead. The alp went limp and collapsed on Fang. Iron kicked him off his blade and shook the blood dripping form the glowing weapon. “Go back to hell, asshole.”

  Fire once crackling around Iron’s arms receded to a few embers. Fang’s glow faded to a dull shimmer. He sheathed it and closed his eyes, spreading his arms to the stars.

  In his mind, Iron soared. He soared over the thundersnows and smiled. He exhaled and opened his eyes, turning to the other champions. Batbayar vomited on the sand. Nephele clutched her stomach and turned her back. Kalila closed her eyes and took measured breaths. Sigrid collapsed to the sand in coughing fit. Sander pressed his hands on his knees, his salty hair dripping sweat.

  “You did it,” Sander finally blurted. “Talk about a fucking miracle. I think I peed a little.”

  “We did it.” Iron embraced the man and placed their brows together. “Thank you, Father, for seeing me through this.”

  Sander returned the embrace just as tightly. “The circle is sealed, but we’ve only just begun. It will take more than just us to topple Sol.”

  “Ayska.” Iron’s strength drained as the last of his fire died. The world swayed. “We need to bury her. We need—”

  His words drifted through a tunnel of pain and exhaustion. Darkness drowned him.

  * * *

  Mist came and went through the void of Iron’s dreamless sleep. He didn’t know how he could see the thin trails of grey in this world without a sun, but he saw them nonetheless. They swept silently by like the long trains of ghosts on their way to a feast. Iron reached out and touched one. Chill droplets beaded on his hand.

  “Is this death?” he wondered, walking through the darkness.

  For how long he journeyed through that void, he couldn’t say. Perhaps a day passed. Perhaps ten or twenty. Maybe none.

  Something glimmered in the black. Iron blinked, quickening his measured pace. “Ayska, is that you? Gods, please tell me it’s you. I—I’ve got so much I want to say, so much—”

  Mists parted for him as he passed, and the object melted into view. Ayska did not appear with it.

  A gold frame carved into interlocking snakes formed a rectangle taller than a titan. The structure held a polished mirror reflecting Iron’s image. Dark circles, bruises, cuts, bloodstains. They camouflaged the reflection he remembered.

  “I look so much older.” He reached for the glass and pressed his hand against it. “What is this place?”

  A once still image shimmered, and a new one came in its wake. A long room supported by mighty arches appeared. Vines of brilliant flowers hung in curling lines clinging onto the marble pillars. Gold braziers dotted with gems cast flickering firelight over the polished floor.

  In the room’s center, the Mother’s cracked and broken head lay on its side. Atop the statue sat a golden throne, its back fashioned into a serpent’s skull.

  A man sat upon that royal seat. Iron leaned closer, and the image shifted.

  “Who are you?” Iron asked.

  The man dropped his chin and pinched his nose. No matter how hard Iron tried, he couldn’t make out the stranger’s features.

  The king sighed and made a fist with his other hand. “You have lost me my captain,” he said in a voice cold as an old glacier.

  Iron’s heart lurched into his throat. He balled his hands into fists, his breath misting on the glass. “You’ve lost me my love. I’d say you got the better end of that deal, Sol.”

  The High King laughed, and it rolled like thunder through the mighty room. Movement disturbed the shadows behind the throne. Something enormous stirred there.

  “We can’t keep following the Six from Sun to Sun. It’s time to forgive and move on, even if that means our time is done. The hate has to end. And it will end with me.”

  Sol clasped his hands between his legs and leaned forward. “You and I are intertwined. I the Serpent, you the man. If you truly want to end this war, you’ll join me. You know this truth. We were one once. There will be no peace until we are one again.”

  “You’re not the Serpent yet, just half of him. As long as you don’t have me, you’ll never be complete.”

  “And neither will you. Join me, Iron. Be whole again. Can’t you feel that empty pit inside you, begging you for something more?

  “I will never join you. Ever. I’m faithful to the Six.”

  “You always are each time we dance this little dance of ours. And in the end, you always fail and the Sun falls. I had hoped showing you the truth this time would enlighten you, but you are stubborn as ever. The thing is, Iron, I know you better than you think. I have done things differently this time. You will see. Soon enough, you will know the futility of fighting me, and on that day, you will stand by my side and watch the Third Sun fall like the gods who raised it.”

  A massive creature slowly rose above the king’s throne. Its skin glittered like gold flecked with diamond dust. It had a long, graceful neck and a massive head like a python’s studded with gold horns. He’d heard stories of them in Sander’s tales of ages past, but seeing a glittering dragon alive behind the king not only brought the stories to life, it stoked a deeply-seeded terror in his heart. This thing had real power, power unlike his and even unlike the alp.

  “You cannot run from me,” Sol said. “You cannot hide from me. The alp have failed me long enough. Now, I come for you.”

  “And I’ll be waiting.”

  The dragon’s reptilian eyes glimmered like fresh honey as it bared fangs as tall as long spears. The creature spread its enormous wings and roared, and an inferno erupted from its maw, shattering the mirror as Iron tumbled from it.

  Iron would heal soon. Sander kept telling himself this over and over. Nephele took good care of the kid. A few days had passed since the boy defeated Brother Caspran, and each day Iron looked a little healthier than the last. Sander stood by his side ever since that night, worrying so much, he’d probably look a few years older when Iron finally woke.

  Eventually, Nephele forced him out of the titan mountain to get some fresh air. He used his Sinner’s magic—gods, it felt good to have that back—to scale the sandstone ledges until he found a nice, quiet ledge overlooking the desert.

  Sander sighed and tossed a rock over the cliff. He waited a few seconds for the dull thud that echoed up the mountain. Overhead, a field of stars unbroken by any cloud glimmered like a swarm of fireflies. He found the Mother’s constellation and pressed his lips into a line.

  “He knows you’re his mother. But I guess that’s no surprise to you, is it?”

  Of course the Burning Mother wouldn’t respond. Even if she hadn’t fallen, gods didn’t make a habit of communicating with mere
mortals.

  “I’m worried about what we did to save him. I never should’ve told the boy who you were. But what else could I do? Dammit, Mara, you’ve put me in a blasted bind, now haven’t you? Why’d you have to fall? Why’d you have to leave me? Are we going to find some other horrible secret in Ker that you’ve kept buried from us?”

  A soft breeze tickled his cheeks, but he swatted it away. “Bah. I’m old and tired and I fart too much these days. Don’t try and whisper sweet nothings in my ears.”

  He clasped his hands and leaned back, propping his head in his locked palms. “You told me the knowledge of who you were would be his undoing. I kept it from him for so long, but gods, Mara, it was breaking him. If I let him know how fucking scared I am about what comes next, why, he’d go screaming back to the Everfrosts and bury himself in the snow. This is all your fault. Girls and gold, that’s all I ever wanted. You gave me a boy and his burden instead.”

  For a few minutes, he just stared at the sky and blinked. After awhile, he grinned, flashing his teeth to the stars. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Maybe I did want something a little more exciting. But how in the hells are we supposed to fight this king without an army when the king’s had years to stomp out anyone who’d raise a finger against him? I’m not even going to talk about that dragon of his, if it’s even real. The boy’s got his eyes set on Ker, and so to Ker we’ll go, but this running blindly into foreign lands has my heart palpitating. We should be gathering what’s left of the free people of Urum and looking to Eloia, not tromping through plains and gawking at Chanathan horses.”

  Sander puckered his lips, and his eyes narrowed. Then, he leapt from his seat and hopped onto a dead tree, climbing its writhing limbs out over the open.

  He stood tall on the outermost branch. Hundreds of feet below him, the ground spread. Above him, the stars shone. Ahead, the horizon waited. “Ah well, I’ll put my faith in you like I always do. I’ve never been to Ker anyway. Maybe it’ll be fun.”