Fireweaver

by Ryan W. Mueller

He wrapped his arms around Kadin, and for the first time, Kadin truly felt that Deril was family.

  * * * * *

  When they finally reached Hyrandel, Deril stared at the enormous city, unsure of how he should feel. This was the place he'd called home his entire life, but his home was not the place he'd always thought it was. Instead, it was a place of prejudice, of hatred.

  A place where five of his party would face execution if the Sun Guard discovered their nature. It was wrong: execution as the penalty for an accident of birth.

  "You can't come with us to the temple," said Deril's father, turning to the five Fireweavers among them. "It's too much of a risk."

  "I'll take them to the Brotherhood," Davin said.

  "It won't be long before we leave," Talin said, sweeping his gaze from Kae to Rella.

  "I wish you luck," Deril said. "You're all good people. I never could have managed any of this without you." He shook his head. "I only hope that I can repay the debt I owe you."

  "That won't be an easy path," said Deril's father. He gave his thanks to the five Fireweavers, who then walked off to the right, heading toward the part of the city containing the Brotherhood's headquarters. Deril watched them go with a heavy heart.

  Kadin's expression was distant. "Will I ever see her again?"

  "It's best if you don't," Deril said.

  "I know I have a duty as a Sunlord," Kadin said, "but that doesn't mean I can't love her at the same time." He stared at the mountain overlooking Hyrandel, at the temple atop that mountain. "This feels like a dream. I never thought I'd see this place again."

  Being back in Hyrandel brought Deril painful memories. Tiran's face flashed in his memory. He thought of all the things they'd done together, all the jokes they'd shared. Tiran had been taken from him far too soon. The Temple of Aralea wouldn't be the same without him.

  "Are you all right?" asked Deril's father.

  "It's nothing. I'm only thinking of Tiran."

  "He died for a good cause."

  "I know," Deril said, "but that doesn't change the way I feel."

  They skirted the city's western edge. Deril had used a Blue/Purple weave to contact Captain Hanir. He'd kept the captain informed of their progress as soon as he'd been able. Hanir had instructed the Sun Guards not to do anything that might bring attention to the Sunlord's return. As far as the people knew, Deril's father had never left.

  It was better if the people continued believing that.

  However, a carriage did wait for them at the bottom of the mountain.

  "Welcome back, Sunlord," said one of the men. He turned his gaze to Kadin. "And welcome to the Temple of Aralea, Sunlord."

  "Thank you," Kadin said, though he didn't meet anyone's gaze.

  They climbed into the cart, and the guards led the horses up the hill. Deril was reminded suddenly of how he'd jumped off the cliff here, trying to catch his father. That effort seemed like a lifetime ago. The world had changed since then, or at least he had changed.

  His father stroked his beard. "That last time I was here, I was sure I was going to die. I always knew Karik resented me, but I never expected what he did."

  "Don't worry about Karik," Deril said as the wagon hit a bump in the road. "He made his decision. He is no longer part of this family."

  "Perhaps."

  They didn't talk much as the wagon made its way to the top of the mountain. The gates were open, and the guards were there to greet them with joyful shouts. In fact, everyone from the temple had assembled in the large courtyard, cheering the Sunlord's arrival.

  Deril's mother stood at the front of the group. When the carriage rolled into view, she rushed forward and leapt into her husband's arms. They embraced for a long time, tears flowing down their cheeks. Deril felt on the verge of tears himself.

  His mother had a hug for him. Then, to his surprise, she hugged Kadin as well.

  "You don't resent Kadin?" Deril asked her.

  "He may not be my son, but he is my husband's. I knew long ago that Zaren had occasional romantic adventures outside our marriage. I don't necessarily like it, but I still love him, and I won't punish Kadin for Zaren's misdeeds."

  They made their way into the temple. Captain Hanir stood waiting just inside the entryway. Deril knew he'd have to talk to the captain before doing anything else.

  Once they were in Hanir's office, he and Kadin took seats across from the captain.

  "You said you were looking for information on how to stop the plague of the Turned," Captain Hanir said. He'd never been one to waste time.

  "You have any information for me?" Deril asked.

  "I've done a little research, and I haven't come up with much. Any information related to the Lost Weaves has been sealed away by the Church. And I mean that in a literal sense."

  "The Vault," Deril said. There was a part of the Temple of Aralea that had been sealed off by the Church. It was said to require three keys to open. One lay in the hands of the Church's High Priest. One resided with the current High Councilor of the Sunweaver Council.

  The location of the third was a mystery.

  "You'll need to find all three keys," Hanir said.

  "Great," Deril muttered. "Another damn quest."

  Chapter 11: Across the Sea

  Karik stood near the bow of a ship heading east across the ocean. Here, the sea was warm enough that it was mostly free of icebergs. He'd seen the sea his entire life, as it bordered Hyrandel on one side, but being on a ship was different.

  Meran leaned on the railing beside him. "How're you faring?"

  "No seasickness. Thankfully."

  Meran chuckled. "Narine has stayed belowdecks all day. She can barely move without vomiting. I feel bad for her."

  Karik stared to the east even though he knew he would not see the Sardek Empire for at least a week. "Do you think we'll find what Atarin seeks over there? If no one has found these monks for a long time, how are we supposed to find them?"

  "Firelord Vanara knows what she's doing."

  "I wish she and Atarin would let us know what they're planning." Karik ran a hand through his long hair. "Haven't you seen the way they sit together? They don't include the rest of us in anything. It wasn't like this before. Atarin always valued our counsel."

  "I'm sure he still does, but what help can we be?"

  "We could help if he'd let us in."

  "His first attempt failed," Meran said. "It's understandable that he might be hesitant to share his secrets now. I can't claim to know his mind, but I do trust him, whatever doubts I might voice from time to time."

  Karik considered whether he trusted Atarin. When he'd joined with the Brotherhood and then with Halarik's Chosen, he'd hoped he could find people he could trust, but it had been difficult. Always, a part of him thought back to the life he'd left behind. It had been a miserable life, but it hadn't involved so much uncertainty.

  Had Halarik truly destroyed Atarin's palace? And if he had, what kind of god was he?

  "I'm going to talk to Atarin," Karik said.

  Meran gave him a sympathetic smile. "Good luck with that."

  Karik strode along the deck, glancing over the railing at the water below. Only small chunks of ice floated, and the air was mild today. Something about the ocean made the weather a little less frigid. Still, Karik liked to stick close to the ship's Sunlamps.

  Atarin stood toward the bow of the ship, gazing out across the sea. Vanara sat in a nearby chair, poring over a book, her lips pursed in concentration. Karik ignored her as he strode to Atarin's side. Apparently lost in thought, Atarin didn't notice him at first.

  Karik cleared his throat. "Atarin?"

  "You want to know more about my plans," Atarin said. "I can see it in your eyes."

  Karik leaned on the railing. "A few more details wouldn't hurt. We could all use a bit more information if you ask me. I'm not the only one struggling with trust right now. I can see it among all the Firelords. Our first plan failed, quite catastrophically I might add."
r />   Atarin gave him a sharp look. "And your point is?"

  "You're a powerful man, Atarin, probably the most powerful Firelord in the world. But that doesn't mean you're invincible." Karik took a breath, gathering his thoughts. "Some of the Firelords may think they're better-suited to accomplish our goals."

  Atarin leaned on the railing beside him. "Have they told you they doubt me?"

  "Only a few of them, but I can see it in the looks they all give you when you hold back your secrets. You and Vanara know a lot more than you're telling the rest of us."

  Atarin glanced at Vanara, who was still absorbed in her reading. After a few moments of indecision, he said, "Vanara, I think you should explain our plans to Karik."

  Her brow creased in irritation as she laid her book aside on a small wooden table. "Are you sure? These are dangerous secrets you're asking me to share."

  "I trust Karik," Atarin said. The fierceness of his gaze told Karik he would regret it if he betrayed that trust. Karik had no intention to do so. Atarin had given him a new chance at life, a chance to make a difference. Doubts stirred in Karik's mind, but he was loyal to Atarin.

  Loyal to Fireweavers.

  But was he loyal to Halarik?

  "It all begins with the Sunlight War," Vanara said. "We know the basics, but a lot of the details have been lost to the ages. I've searched long and hard for materials relating to some of these details, especially details about the Lost Weaves and the Monks of Duran." She frowned in deep thought. "I think I'm getting closer to finding their location."

  "Who are they exactly?" Karik asked.

  "That's where things get interesting. Most of them are men and women devoted to the cause of protecting the Lost Weaves. But one among them, their leader, is a woman who goes by the name of Kara. A strange name, I might add. She's also quite . . . unusual."

  "And what's so unusual about her?" Karik asked.

  "She has been their leader for five hundred years."

  "But that's not possible," Karik said, gripping the railing as the ship suddenly tilted more than he would have liked. "Only a god can live that long."

  "And there are supposedly only two gods," Atarin said, stepping between Karik and Vanara.

  "Then who is she. She can't be Aralea, can she?"

  "I don't think so," Vanara said. "Her description does not match that of Aralea, and she seemed to come into existence five hundred years ago. She does not claim the title of a god, but how else could she live so long?"

  "And what do you think her goals are?" Karik asked.

  "That is what I am trying to answer, but there is little material available."

  "Do you think she'd help us?" Karik asked.

  Vanara shook her head, her expression tightening with impatience "No. If she has protected the Lost Weaves this long, then she won't give them up easily."

  "What exactly are these Lost Weaves?" Karik asked. He was genuinely interested in this conversation. That was the one thing he and Deril had shared: a love for learning. For Deril, it had always been Sunweaving theory. Karik had spent his time on other pursuits: science, mathematics, philosophy.

  "There are seven Lost Weaves," Vanara said. She smiled faintly, as if this conversation were moving in a direction she enjoyed. "Red and Green is the weave we are in search of. It opens a path to the Realm of Shade. But there are others. Red and Purple. The weave that can kill a god. It requires the sacrifice of both a Sunlord and a Firelord, however, and it is a very difficult weave in the first place. Almost impossible to do properly."

  "Is there no other way to kill a god?" Karik asked.

  "Not that I know of." Vanara leaned forward in her chair, the wood creaking softly. "The following two weaves are being used together, I believe. Orange and Green. This is known as the transference weave. It can grant the powers of Sunweaving or Fireweaving to the Lightless. The second one is Orange and Blue, also known as the mind control weave. It can only work on the Lightless, and I think this is what has happened to many of the Lightless in Tarileth."

  Karik bit his lower lip. "So it was Halarik's work, then?"

  "Yes, I believe so." Vanara closed her eyes a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "Orange and Purple and Green and Purple both go together. Orange and Purple is the weave that could restore the sun. Only a god can perform it. Green and Purple is the weave that Halarik used to weaken the sun. Once again, only a god can perform it."

  "That doesn't make sense," Karik said. "If there's a weave that can restore the sun, then why didn't Aralea use it before imprisoning Halarik?"

  "That is a very interesting question," Vanara said. "Perhaps she thought Halarik would simply reverse the process. But from everything I've gathered, this is a long and intensive weave to perform, much harder than what Sunlords and Firelords do every day. Aralea could have restored the sun, but she didn't. It's puzzling. Don't you think so?"

  Karik nodded as he tried to sort through his thoughts. It felt as if his world had suddenly been turned upside down. He'd never had faith in Aralea, but now he wondered about her true motivations.

  "She is not the great and benevolent goddess the Sunweavers think she is," Vanara said. "A benevolent goddess would have restored the sun, but she didn't. The question is . . . why?"

  "You talk about her as if she's still alive," Karik said.

  Vanara smiled, looking years younger. "Ah, you are smart and observant. Yes, I did speak of her in the present tense because I do not believe she is dead."

  "But you don't believe she's this Kara figure either?"

  "No, they are different."

  "Then, if she's alive, where is she?"

  "In the Realm of Shade," Vanara said. "With Halarik."

  Chapter 12: Myths of the Sea

  Rella sat in a cushioned stone chair in the headquarters of the Brotherhood. Deril had told her of the battle that had taken place in these chambers, and she was surprised to find it appeared as if the battle had never occurred. There were few Fireweavers there, however.

  Kae, Davin, Talin, and Faina all sat nearby. No one had spoken for a while. They'd taken time to rest and recover after such a long journey. Rella still struggled whenever she looked at Talin. She could see only the face of the man who'd tortured her. Consciously, she knew he'd been forced into those actions, but it didn't stop anxiety from flooding her.

  She'd have to get used to it, though. Talin was going to accompany Rella and Kae on their journey to the Sardek Empire. He'd already contacted a captain willing to take them across the sea, but it was going to be an expensive journey.

  Sondir, the leader of the Brotherhood, approached the circle of chairs where the party was sitting. He settled down in an empty chair nearby.

  "I don't know what you're planning on doing," he said, "but I can help you."

  "Thank you for the offer," Talin said, "but we can manage on our own."

  Sondir leaned forward in his chair. "Deril told me you had an important mission. I trust Deril, and therefore I'll extend that trust to you. If you tell me what you're doing, I can help. The Brotherhood is perhaps not as strong as it once was, but we still have some power."

  "You should focus on the Turned," Talin said. "We have our own mission."

  Rella felt sick whenever she thought of that mission. She didn't know how they could stop Atarin a second time. And then there was Karik. He had become a greater mystery than ever. Why had he let her go? Did he care about her that much?

  She dreaded encountering him again.

  Sondir clasped his hands in front of him. "Then I wish you luck."

  Luck. They'd need a lot of that.

  Sondir retreated into his office.

  "Should we have told him?" Rella asked.

  Talin shook his head. "This mission relies on secrecy. If Atarin catches even a whiff of what we're doing, we won't be able to stop him."

  Kae frowned. "What exactly are we doing? Do you have a plan?"

  "No," Talin said. "I can get us to the Sardek Empire, but I have no idea what
to do beyond that. As much as I hate to say it, we'll have to improvise." He shrugged, trying to feign indifference. "It worked for us once before. Perhaps it will work again."

  They rested that night, then set out in the morning, heading east toward the docks. Davin and Faina remained behind, leaving Rella with only Kae and Talin as company.

  Rella didn't know her way through Hyrandel, so she followed Talin's lead. She had no idea how he knew the city so well. Perhaps he'd spent time there. She didn't ask him, though. In truth, she didn't like speaking to him, so she stayed at the back of the group, silent.

  Soon they reached the docks. Rella stared at the large wooden ships, her eyes wide with wonder. Then she gazed at the sea as it crashed against the rocky shore. She'd never seen the ocean, never imagined that anything could be so vast. When she stared into the distance, she saw no end in sight. The sight was beautiful. And terrifying.

  Talin led them along the docks, toward a ship at their northern end. A dark-bearded man waited at the planks of wood leading to one of the ships. He wore the tidy furs of someone with enough money to live comfortably, but they lacked the ornamentation the truly wealthy displayed. As the party approached, he smiled faintly.

  "Captain Garen," Talin said in greeting.

  Garen inclined his head. "It is nice to see you again. When I received your message the other night, I was surprised. I never thought you'd return to Hyrandel."

  Talin glanced toward the ship. "We should talk somewhere more private."

  "Of course." Garen gestured toward the plank. "Follow me." He stepped onto the ship. Talin, Kae, and Rella followed. As Rella crossed the plank, her heart climbed into her throat. She tried not to glance down at the water far below, but she couldn't resist the temptation. That water had to be frigid, and she didn't want to think of falling in.

  The mere thought made her shiver, but soon she crossed the plank without incident and stood upon the ship's wooden deck. Sailors hustled back and forth, preparing for departure, and Rella paid them little attention. Captain Garen led them across the deck, toward a door located off to their right. He opened the door, then beckoned for them to step inside.