Voices of Blaze

by H. O. Charles

  He smiled thinly and placed a hand at her back to comfort her. “We did. He adores you so much. I’d never have believed it, but his dedication to you was something I had not witnessed before. It changed my perspective utterly.”

  His mother glanced at him with an expression he could not interpret, and then looked away quickly. Before long, they had reached a rocky outcrop some several hundred yards from the manor.

  “Is he here-” Kalad began, but his sentence was cut short when a great beast of smoke and flame emerged from behind the rock. “What is-?”

  “Tyshar. He underwent something of a change recently. He’s harmless, I promise.”

  Kalad nodded as if he understood, but he was certainly not about to touch the animal to find out. “And father?”

  His mother’s eyes darted about a bit, and she scanned the horizon to make sure no one was nearby. “Morghiad,” she whispered.

  At first, Kalad was not sure what he was supposed to be looking at. He could see something dark and slimy slithering about in the shadows, but he could not quite make out what it was. He took a step closer. It looked like there was a leg, and was that an arm? He tilted his head to see better, but as he did so, the thing stepped out.

  “Oh…” Kalad cursed loudly.

  “I’m sorry, Kalad,” his mother said in a mournful voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I suppose I can guess how this happened,” he said quietly. Great fires of Achellon and all its skies! There was almost nothing recognisable about him. His body was so wasted, and his teeth so warped. Not even the green of his eyes had survived the transformation.

  “It was an accident,” she protested weakly. “I was quenched and… and I couldn’t – it wasn’t-”

  Kalad frowned as he put an arm across her shoulders. He could feel that the Blazes still emanated their heat into his mother’s hair and clothing, which must have meant she had managed to un-quench herself since the event. “Hush, it’s alright. What is it that I can do?”

  “I cannot bring myself to kill him. I tried, but I cannot. He is still in there. But your blood - there has to be answer in it.”

  Kalad turned to his mother. “You want to gut me like a fish and let him eat my innards?!”

  “No! There will be no gutting or eating-” she broke off as the eisiel made an odd sort of rasping noise. “But a few drops of blood… it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” Her eyes looked so pleadingly at him, and Kalad could feel his chest aching. He had never seen his mother feeble like this. Never.

  He nodded rapidly. “I’ll do everything I can. Of course I will.” It was quite a leap to think his blood would help his father at all, and as far as he knew, he had not given his ability to anyone else through the years he had lived. But it was worth a try. He could not imagine what it would be like to have to kill Mirel had they been in the same situation, even if it was to save her.

  “Who is that?” his mother asked, nodding to a slender figure who shambled toward them.

  Follocks! “Ah… just a moment.” Kalad jogged back down the hillside, trying to remain in his mother’s line of sight and in the way of his wife.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” he asked when he reached her. Mirel was clutching her injury, but it did not appear to be bleeding through her fingers.

  “Who is that?” she asked.

  Kalad looked back to the figures by the outcrop. His mother was no longer visible, but Tyshar’s coal-filled and burning muzzle was. “It’s my parents. Listen, you need to get back to the house before they see you. The last thing I want is a fight over nothing.”

  “Kalad-” His mother’s voice, and it was close. Oh… blazes, no…

  When he turned to her, and the identity of his wife was revealed, his mother’s eyes widened to perfect, white-lined circles. “Kalad, move out of the way!” she yelled.

  He felt and saw the heat build up within her, and knew that she was preparing to wield. Kalad stepped in front of Mirel. “She is no danger to me. And she’s quenched. Please, leave her.”

  His mother looked at them both out of the sides of her eyes. “Move, Kalad. She cannot be trusted.”

  “I will not. She’s different; she no longer has any quarrel with you.”

  There was a moment where his mother seemed to lower her hands, but that moment of reprieve was gone in a blink. The air about him turned as scorching hot as an oven, and it started to scream. Kalad tried to push his wife to the ground to protect her, but she was whisked out of his hands before he could do anything to prevent it.

  His eyes searched frantically about for her, and they soon found her suspended in the air above him. Her back was arched and her face screwed up in pain. Her clothing was already blistering and withering, and it would not be long before her whole body burned to nothing. “No!” Kalad yelled, trying desperately to unravel the forms as rapidly as he could. “She’s injured! Stop!”

  But his words fell upon ears that would not hear him, and her millennia of practice at wielding dwarfed his mere decades. His mother continued to wield horrible, painful things into his wife. She would not kill her, he told himself. She would not risk that!

  Mirel let out a terrible, blood-curdling howl then, and Kalad could not bear to remain where he was. He thrust himself to his feet, and hurled all of his bodyweight at his mother. She emitted a noise of surprise, but did not relinquish her hold on Mirel.

  “Let go, let g-!” he yelled at her, but she kicked him off before he could finish. Great spirals of white and blue fire still surged out of her body, and Kalad’s efforts at undoing them failed each time. “Stop!” he cried at her, and leapt at her again. This time he would make his beautiful wife’s suffering cease. Kalad grabbed his mother by the throat, and began to dig.

  There was a sudden hiss and a crack in the air, and Morghiad’s skin began to itch. No, it was far worse than an itch; it felt as if he were burning from the inside out all over again. Someone was wielding nearby. He leapt out from the safety of the shadows, forcing aside his desire to howl at the agony of the heat he felt from the wielding, and sprinted toward the area where it was even hotter. He had to find the fire; he had to snuff it out!

  His vision had become too cloudy to pick out the red-gold of Artemi’s hair, or the fine features of her face, but he had other ways of seeing now. He could feel the energy that sizzled in the plants and the rocks and the bones of every man, and he could smell the scents that oozed from their skins. Morghiad sniffed the air for Artemi’s perfume as he loped forward on legs that throbbed with pain when he used them, but that desired to move him faster than his old legs could possibly have done.

  He could hear the sounds of yelling and screaming as he drew nearer, and the burning he felt inside his skin had intensified tenfold. “Artemi!” he tried to call, but it came out as a coarse croak.

  He did not need to sniff for her, as a great surge of Blaze drew what remained of his eyes right to her. She glowed in his dim sight, and Morghiad ran to that glow in spite of the searing heat he felt from her. Her power drew him; she drew him, and combined with her scent, the mixture made his head spin and his mouth water.

  But when Morghiad approached, he realised someone was holding her to the ground with their hand around her neck. Her attacker was dark against the background of Blaze Energy that howled through everything else, and that had to mean he was kanaala. “Kalad?”

  Kalad did not release his mother, and Morghiad could see that he was draining her of all her fires. Her glow was fading, and soon she would match the light of the stones and the trees. Soon she would be as cold as the ice in the Kemeni Mountains, and after that she would die. No, no, no!

  He leapt at his son with his teeth bared and his claws out as wide as they would go. It was almost no effort at all to extract him from Artemi, and still less to pin the man to the ground. Morghiad roared as he reached into Kalad’s chest as if it were made of soft butter, and tore out the heart that beat within it. He ate it greedily, and then went after the lungs. They were
full of Artemi’s fire; lots of beautiful, perfect fire.

  Abruptly, he noticed the sensation of intense heat had left his skin, and the worst of his pain subsided. The wielding had ceased.

  “What… what have you done?” he heard Artemi say. His Artemi.

  “You must always come first,” Morghiad said with his burned throat. “I put others first before, and I was wrong to do so. It should always be you, my love. Fire of my life.”

  “Our son… he-”

  Morghiad cocked his head to one side. His lips felt moistened after a hundred years spent in the desert, and the hard skin of his hands softened by the balm of a yarn plant. It was Kalad’s blood, he realised. “I chose rightly.”

  “No.” Artemi backed away from him slowly at first. But her breath was coming raggedly, and her throat made strange noises. She turned then, and ran.

  It was the right choice. Morghiad could see that more clearly than anything he had seen in any of his lives before. He could see how his actions of the past had been just small expressions of his power - just tentative grasps at what was possible. Old Gialdin had not simply fallen to Acher and his army; it had been broken from the inside by a young boy, a boy who became too afraid and too ashamed of his own abilities to truly test them in the years afterward. But now… now he was not afraid. It filled his heart with strength; it calmed his breathing and eased every one of his senses. This was his redemption and his renewal. It was the truth of the fires.

  What fuelled them? What drove them? Who was master of it all? He saw. He saw.

  With a quiet crackling, Morghiad’s charred outer shell turned from cinders, husk and flake to smooth, unmarred skin. His raven hair swept out through the cracks of his burned scalp and his blackened, twisted teeth fell away to a perfect ivory bite. He drew a long, pure breath into his new lungs, and his milk-white eyes darkened rapidly. From their colourlessness emerged a brilliant hue - it was green. The darkest, coldest and most brilliant green.

  Glossary of Terms

  Achellon – A mythical place inhabited by the all-powerful fire gods. It is believed that Achellon is composed entirely of Blaze Energy and that it is the true source of such power. It is often described as a place devoid of pain or suffering. In reality, Achellon is likely to be derived from legends based upon The Crux.

  Benay-gosa – An unmarried, female attendant of male royalty. Her primary duty is to provide an heir, though she is more commonly viewed as a provider of pleasures for her mate. Benay-gosa are chosen by their sponsors, and considered to be royal property. They are similar to concubines, though they can be selected from any level of society.

  Blaze Energy – A fiery power that can be manipulated into weapons, shields, sources of light and even used to construct buildings. It is usually described as blue light in its basic form, but to most people it is not visible.

  Blazes, The – The fires from which Blaze Energy is extracted. Only wielders (directly) and kanaala (indirectly) have access to these fires.

  Crux, The – A world that exists at the centre of all worlds. It is the most energy-rich plane of existence, and all other worlds draw their power from it.

  Cave of Light (Gialdin) – The gateway from the Darkworld to The Crux, and a place filled with latent energy.

  Do-koor – A Hirrahan custom lasting two months whereby, following the birth of a child, a family will open doors to friends and enemies in order to celebrate the arrival of a new life. All weapons must be dispensed with whilst do-koor is in place and visitors must refrain from drinking alcohol in the household.

  Eisiel – A creature so burned by The Blazes that it is half-dead. Described as charred, oily skinned and wasted in appearance, eisiels kill without remorse. They usually hunt for a specific target, selected by their maker. It has been observed that they are former lovers of wielders, whose fires burned them during love-making. They are immune to weapons made with Blaze Energy.

  Fate’s School of Warriors – A sword school, based in the Sunidaran city of Hestavos, where promising recruits are trained for roles in combat. Most graduands find places in the Sunidaran Army.

  Form (Blaze) – A structure made with Blaze Energy that will produce a specific weapon, shield, light or piece of matter. Forms are altered by defining the speed, vibration and shapes of Blaze Energy that make it. Once constructed, most forms can be deconstructed or unravelled, but the time required is dependent upon the complexity of the form.

  Ghar-en – An amplifying tool for reinforcing or enlarging existing Blaze forms. Only a few of these are known to have been made, and most have become lost through time.

  Gar-sira – An object to which a Blaze form can be anchored, thereby impeding any kanaala’s or wielder’s efforts to deconstruct it. Gar-siras are usually objects that can be smashed or destroyed to remove the form.

  Ghar-ten – An object designed to hold Blaze energy for later use, or to enable a kanaala to wield without the aid of a female wielder.

  Kahr – A male heir of royal blood in the central and eastern areas of the Sennefhal continent.

  Kahriss – A female heir of royal blood in the central and eastern areas of the Sennefhal continent.

  Kanaala – A man who can manipulate (i.e. wield) Blaze forms or deconstruct them. Kanaala are the male counterpart to wielders, and they cannot access Blaze Energy independently. A kanaala can control The Blazes through a wielder, and he can access her fires before her power is fully matured. He also has the ability to permanently quench a wielder of her power, although it has been observed that not all quenching is permanent.

  Kanaala are graded according to their ability, with most falling between grades three and five. A kanaala graded ten is considered to be very powerful indeed.

  Kanaala are the only men who can safely sleep with wielders, though this is dependent upon their grading. For example, a kanaala graded four will almost certainly die if he lies with a wielder graded five, and this is due to his limited capacity for her power.

  A kanaala can detect the presence of a wielder. The more powerful either one is, the greater the distance at which they can sense one another. Kanaala can only detect other kanaala through skin-to-skin contact.

  Kanaala are born with their full potential already reached, and do not mature into their abilities as wielders do. Prospective parents fear giving birth to kanaala, since the child's arrival will always result in the mother's death, unless she has access to Gialdin’s Cave of Light. The same is not true of wielders unless the child has the potential to be especially powerful. It is thought that this difference has something to do with the child's latent Blaze abilities at birth.

  Blaze abilities are often inherited, but have been known to spontaneously appear in families where it has previously been absent.

  Kefruit – A hand-sized, yellow tree fruit with mottled peel. Its sweet flavour makes it popular in desserts.

  Kusuru Assassins – A group of seven individuals who, at some point before the Era of Floods, were trained in sword fighting, wielding and espionage. They are reputedly the most deadly fighters ever to have lived. Each member was specially selected for their ability with Blaze and each was vanha-sielu. Their training was said to be so tough that they would regularly die as a result of it, but were recruited again once they were reborn. It was hoped that they would form a force to protect the world through history, and that one of them would eventually be instrumental in preventing the demise of the known world. Their members were: Artemi (The Fireblade), Dorlunh (The Reader), Khasha (The Puzzler), Mirel (Ice-Kill), Tallyn (The Hunter), Romarr (The Hammer) and Vestuna (The Silent Knife).

  Nalka – The physical pain suffered by lovers upon being separated from each other. It usually manifests about ten days after their last engagement in sexual intercourse and is complete within four days of the first pains.

  The affliction is usually fatal to those who suffer it before the age of twenty, and so it is not advised that lovers enter into a sexual relationship before they're old enough to withstan
d the separation.

  It represents the termination of the bond between partners and their potential to procreate. However, lovers are able to have children subsequently, but only if they are able to maintain a sexual relationship without undergoing nalka for nine years.

  In spite of this phenomenon, brothels and whore houses are prevalent across much of the world.

  Partition (Blaze) – A Blaze form that masks wielding from any nearby kanaala or wielders. The construction of most Blaze forms gives off heat, and a partition will impede any further dispersal of that heat.

  Pinh – A black, poisonous liquid which prevents wounds from healing. If enough poison is ingested by an individual they will suffer pinhatar death, where the blood becomes too saturated with the substance to perform its proper function. Scars that result from wounds are generally caused by the presence of pinh.

  Sarkha – A tube-like implement with a plunger and reservoir at either end, used to clean pinh-saturated wounds that are too deep to be washed any other way. One reservoir is filled with water and the flexible, middle section of the tube is inserted into the wound. Once the water reservoir has been emptied into the injury, the second reservoir can be used to withdraw the diluted poison.

  Stasis – The body’s method of preserving itself in times of drought or famine. Sufferers will fall into a death-like, comatose state and will be unrousable. They will wake, on average, once per decade and search for nourishment. If a sufferer is unable to find food or water in order to break the stasis cycle, they will eventually succumb after one-to-two-hundred years have passed.

  Swift – An orange, ground-creeping flower, native to mountainous regions. Its distilled nectar can aid healing when an individual’s ability to recover from wounds is exhausted.

  Tanno – A juicy, purple berry with a slightly acidic taste. It is usually skinned, pressed and fermented to make wine.

  Vanha-sielu – An old term for an even older group of people, meaning "repeated life." These individuals are born again within two weeks of their deaths, ad infinitum. In each life they carry an identical appearance and are inevitably given the same name by their parents or guardians.