Legacy: Book #3, the Fire Chronicles

by Susi Wright

  Released from the mental interference of the Gaians, the enemy had realised they were being attacked and began to flee. Some had reached the tree-line. They could not be allowed to escape.

  Entirely absorbed in her grisly mission, Espira felt everything, not least the pain of the dying, cursed as it now seemed to retain innate compassion, even for her enemies. Conversely, she was blessed by her sense of duty and the bigger picture. It filled her with the courage to endure, pushing out wasted regret.

  She urged Ra to sally forth once again, breathing death and destruction as he went. The second foray, despite much worse visibility, despatched a thousand more giants. Wheeling back for a third pass along the valley, Espira directed Ra to swing his aim from side to side, obliterating many hundreds more.

  Below her, the scene became a single conflagration of brilliant red. Even the forest was catching alight. She could feel the scorching heat on her legs and hands, even on her face.

  She felt the daunting power of the Destroyer begin to take hold, a constant threat with this element. Dragon-fire was even more unruly.

  Ra! Hold back. We need to be careful now!

  No response.

  The wyvern's body shook with the exhalation of his fiery breath. His mind was intent on his task, but it seemed he was no longer listening to her. Ra's flight became more reckless, swerving back and forth so erratically, Espira was very glad of the leather strap to keep her in place. Suddenly he was a wild, untrained young mount with the wind in his tail, heady with his own speed and power. She re-doubled her focus, trying to calm him. Ra! Slow down! Still, he sped on.

  He wheeled left with such force she was throw from her seat; saved by the rein, she vaulted back astride him. Her forearm felt as if it would break, and the leather burned her wrist.

  A sudden thud caused Ra to falter and Essie glanced down to see a spear lodged deep in his side under the wing. The pain fuelled the fury of his attack; his next breath was a deafening fiery roar.

  He swooped. Flames engulfed the entire area, field and forest. It was impossible to see its effect in the pall of smoke. The sense of peril grew. Espira felt a moment of panic. The lives of the people in the surrounding forest could be at risk. For Espira, struggling now against his rage was much worse than trying to temper his excitement. She was losing control.

  Ra! Please!

  Then, something shifted. Dragon-fire ceased. Ra was quiet. They were suspended mid-air, as the drake hovered. Had she gained his attention after all? Espira reconnected to find his mind steeped in something close to indecision.

  Ra canted his head, as if to listen, but Espira understood the distraction was a terrible insight, because at that very moment she felt it too.

  Ardientor is in mortal danger!

  Horror and indecision became hers. She squinted through the drifting smoke below to see Zorgs escaping into the forest; not far ahead of the monsters, there were Morvians on foot, carrying children. They needed her help.

  Duty to her people warred with the instinct to throw all other cares to the wind and race to her brother's aid. She berated herself. How had she missed this? In her attempt to protect him, had she placed him in harm's way? Her mind screamed out to Ardi, railing against the machinations of Fate. Why this? Why does it have to be a choice?

  Suddenly, confronted, she knew Ra was listening for her command, similarly torn. He wanted to go too! The Link was strong between the three of them. But, dozens of other lives were at risk below them.

  It was life or death, either way!

  Duty-bound, Ra shook his head and snorted impatiently, as he hovered low over the ashen battlefield.

  It was her decision. She would have cursed the Ancestors, right then, had she not needed their aid!

  Something given . . . something taken! By all that is Holy, I know this – but what am I to do? Her desperate supplication brought forth a shocking revelation.

  Even if we go with dragon-speed, it is already too late for him! Save those lives within reach, but do it now! The sting of tears threatened to blind her. Her heart was breaking. Helpless anger surged and she questioned the wisdom of Fate.

  Is this how it must be?

  She clutched savagely at the rein binding her in place, at odds with Existence, as the tears flowed freely. Frantic for answers, she searched her connection with Ra's spirit, bewildered to suddenly find acquiescence there.

  His sad resolution confirmed the grim truth of it. She doubled over, the cruel cut of grief ripping to her core. Her mind began to haze with overwhelming despair. Ardi – no!

  Ra fidgeted for direction.

  His reminder instantly burned away the fog to stark reality. If they were to save anyone, they had to move.

  Heaving a sigh of bitter regret at the inevitable, she swiped blinding tears from her eyes and, choking back a sob, issued Fate's command.

  “Finish this battle, Ra. Up!”

  Chapter 36 : ANTHEM

  One single life, however long.

  A blink of Nature's eye.

  How many truths are lost and won

  Before the time to die?

  Fate holds the power of balance

  Over savagery and calm,

  But through the mystery and the chance,

  Love must endure the harm.

  A myriad choices in that blink,

  Mistakes and brilliant deeds.

  A map appears from those who think

  To sow the living seeds.

  Thus charted by courageous art,

  It frees the captive soul,

  And sagely, mends the broken heart:

  A thousands pieces, whole.

  To choose to stay, or choose to go,

  Or choose a while to rest,

  It matters not, except to know

  That what is done. . .is best.

  - S.W.

  Mutual acceptance made the ghostly transference quick and entirely painless. Ardientor, with the recklessness of youth, hardly noticed Nimr muttering a dark spell as he insinuated himself within his new host.

  Once attached there was no going back. But, Ardi was glad. This was what he wanted. With the elation of control his secret alone, he focussed as never before. Aware of the danger, he held the brilliant light of the Eternal Flame, burning like a homecoming beacon in his core, drawing the wraith deeper in to the vision of Absolute Power.

  Nimr was a helpless moth.

  But subterfuge was a dangerous game, more so when played by two!

  Firmly installed, the moth became a monster, far more cunning and powerful than expected. Vengeful rage, an evil covenant, pervaded Ardi's mind with Nimr's triumphant remark. Now, I have you . . . and you have me! It is time to act!

  Ardi felt Nimr's insidious influence grasping at his will; the asphyxiating tentacles of dark magic tightened their hold.

  With an involuntary gasp for air, Ardi reacted, clung to his connection with the Source, allowed the compelling vision of Fire to burn brighter.

  In that moment, behind his iron-clad mental shield, he knew this was what he had seen . . . the battle of his life! His destiny.

  So inwardly absorbed, Ardi did not sense the approach, nor hear the rustling undergrowth.

  He only heard Nimr's jubilant comment, Yes! It is time! I cannot wait to see how you intend to make this look like an accident – I want it to be at least painful!

  Then, sly and spiteful, Nimr seemed to draw on the remnants of acrimony in Ardi's mind. The next thought appeared too much like his own. Let's hurry! I want him to see me at last – what I can really do! That I am truly free. . .and powerful enough to end him! Is there time to include some torture?

  From the tree canopy on either side converged two Gaian fliers. They came to ground a prudent distance away, facing each other with Ardi mid-way between them. Both perceived the enormous peril of the situation.

  Ardientor became dimly aware of his surroundings, affected by the pull of the new presence. Recognition came as a sobering shock.

  Fathe
r!

  At that moment, Beris crashed noisily from the bushes atop his samblar and hauled to a stop. He still held the lead rein of a riderless mount, as he took in the scene before him. “My lord. There you are! Please, have a care – you're still weak as a kitten!”

  Luminor stood at the edge of the clearing, swaying on his feet, but fully awake and intent on his son. It was obvious he still suffered from the rigours of his illness. His expression was horror-stricken.

  Loris hurried to his side to offer support, understanding both the shadow of evil and the need for utmost caution here. Nothing could be done without harm to Ardientor.

  It was a deadly impasse.

  Ardi raised a hand towards his father, partly in appeal, as Nimr's assertive influence pervaded his mind, menacing, vengeful. The pain of full possession began. He stuggled against it. Nimr demanded complete submission and Ardi felt his strength waver.

  Yes, Nimr, my friend, I will keep my promise . . . my father's death can only be an accident. Stay with me – we do everything together, forever!

  With his hand still outstretched, he took a step towards Luminor. His green eyes locked on the identical gaze of his father, reflecting menace and sadness, then heart-wrenching appeal.

  I am not sorry, Father!

  A heartbeat later, Ardi's expression changed. His face lit with triumph, and true to his promise, he became the assassin he was always destined to be.

  My idea is brilliant, Nimr . . . watch me! You have no idea of my talent yet! It will be painful but quick. Get ready, you will need my protection to receive the power!

  Ardi advanced a step towards Luminor, then another. His outstretched hand swept low to the ground between them. Dust and leaves swirled around Luminor's feet. Already weak, his father appeared to become disorientated, struggling to remain upright even as he lurched forward to reach his son.

  Lor grabbed his lord's arm tighter, going with him, drawing sword.

  “By all the hells! What is happening?” yelled Beris, leaping from his mount to whip out his blade. He stood protectively in front of Luminor, staring at Ardientor's feral smile. “I knew that boy was strange!”

  Ardi's agonised expression reflected the pain which intensified in his core as he allowed Nimr to install his black magic there. He gritted his teeth against the squeezing spectral tentacles.

  Indifferent to his host's pain, the necromancer nestled deeper, making himself at home, blatantly basking in the warmth and gloating . . . eager to witness the final demise of his nemesis.

  Ardi grimaced with the effort of using several talents at once. He fortified his mental shield, insurance against any possible attempt by his father to interfere. The mystical wall of confusion also cleverly bound Nimr and his art within it.

  Another swipe of Ardi's hand to the element of Earth, opened the ground beneath Luminor and his protectors, swallowing all three into a pothole.

  It was very deep and rocky, impervious ironstone.

  Nimr's silent scream of glee reverberated in Ardi's mind.

  Well done, hybrid child! The Gaian is gone at last! Now, bring me his power!

  The smug and greedy wraith waited expectantly for the inrush of the Supreme Power he had coveted for so long.

  Luminor was gone.

  In response, Ardi focussed all his energy inwards, launching his soul and its passenger into the open channel of burning light. In this effulgent realm, the boy's essence became the dragon of his dreams, winging towards the glory of the Eternal Flame.

  At first, Nimr's maniacal laugh echoed in the ether as he was carried forth, astride a creature of Fire. He was the victorious rider. The power was his!

  Gradually, however, triumph became discomfort; discomfort transformed to pain, the closer they came to the all-consuming Ancient Fire. Ardi's own pain receded in equal measure.

  Ardientor knew the moment when Nimr realised the burn, the reality of history repeating itself . . . that it was too late.

  Nimr screamed in disbelief and horror at being outwitted.

  I am ancient! You, Deceiver, are just a child . . .

  Ardi's laugh was cold, though he breathed fire.

  You are bound to me, dark one! Your ride will be far from the fun you imagined. There is no escape you can devise. This time, you will never find a way back!

  The courage of ages pumped in the heart of this dragon, Ardientor, as he surged forth headlong. His astral flight was almost over. The euphoria of sacrifice throbbed in his veins: the opposite of pain.

  For Ardientor, this was freedom, heaven, a final home-coming. For Nimr, bound tightly to his host's essence, it would be eternal, inescapable hell.

  Ardientor's song echoed in the Ether. For you, Father . . . and you, Espira! For all Existence! Soon, I do not doubt . . . you will understand!

  The Eternal Fire beckoned.

  He banked sharply down towards his goal, to dive deep into the flames, his scales, an impenetrable armour. The dragon roared, as he did on the day of his birth, but Ardi's victory cry was an anthem of angels.

  Beating his mighty wings, Ardientor, son of Fire, pawn of Fate and Harbinger of a new age met his destiny with glorious abandon, taking with him the blight of centuries!

  *

  Luminor burst from the surface of the dark water with a yell of denial. “No-o-o!”

  His hoarse cry was nothing but an echo in the gloom.

  The agony of grief wrenched his gut as he trod water, staring helplessly up at the small window of light a hundred metres above. His air-cloak floated, wet and useless, around him.

  Ignoring the pain from a sprained wrist, he grabbed at the slippery ironstone boulders which rose, sheer and forbidding, straight up on every side. The pool was a prison.

  Shortly, Lor's head bobbed to the surface on his right, blood running with the water from a large gash on his cheek. In one arm, the warrior hauled a spluttering Beris by the neck. The old soldier coughed and heaved, spitting a string of curses, before choking out, “What in the Ten Hells . . . just happened?”

  Luminor ceased his useless scrabbling, sighing a dire expletive, to return his stricken gaze skyward. For a long moment, he bore alone the awareness of exactly what had happened.

  Finally he groaned. “My son – ” he expelled a sharp breath of despair, “is gone!”

  Beris frowned, poking his fore-finger in one ear, then the other, before giving his dripping head a violent shake. He hawked loudly and spat once more, attempting to clear his lungs and his head at the same time. His frown deepened, as he pondered the strange volatility he had seen in the boy all along. “But, my lord . . . did he not just try to kill us? What black magic is that? How . . .”

  “Save your questions, brother!” Lor's urgent hiss effectively silenced the half-drowned man; aside to Beris, the Gaian's tone softened. “He is sore-vexed with his son's choices. He might be Lord of Fire, Master of all the High Arts . . . but he is also a father! It is said, 'parenthood is the mightiest challenge in Existence'!”

  Long moments of empty silence followed, while Beris considered, with familiar difficulty, the vagaries of Gaian mysticism . . . and fatherhood.

  Luminor's emotions raged within; solemn silence surrounded him.

  Beside him, his two warriors, men of action like himself, floated helplessly.

  All three were held, impotent, in this subterranean cave, experiencing degrees of frustration. Each searched his soul for some kind of enlightenment, answer, or way-out. But here, the darkness and silence were suffocating. This murky pool harboured a deathly quiet, devoid of anything except a bone-chilling cold and the hollow lap of water against ironstone.

  Questions often had no point, thought Beris, treading water. His heavy armour was doing him no favours right now. He was a pragmatic man, who did not wish to pester an obviously grieving one, with human lack of insight. Even so, he shut his eyes against a worsening headache, brought on by the loss of his helm and the rocky fall, and muttered quietly – to himself, to Lor, or to any receptive d
eities in other realms – he was not sure which. “Well, I would dearly like to wager against drowning. What do we do now?”

  Chapter 37 : VICTORY

  Choking, black vapour filled the air, thin blood-red streaks, all that remained in the sky from the disappearing sun.

  Day became night. A night lit by dragon-fire. A night which should have been glorious now seemed to hold nothing but empty misery and death. It was nothing like she had imagined, yet almost everything she had expected. Fate had spoken loudly, yet nothing was clear except her connection with Ra.

  She had his full attention once more, and he had her direction. For now it was all they needed to succeed.

  Still the blur of destruction and smoke, only briefly punctuated by fiery illumination, severely hampered Espira's sight of the fleeing giants and of her own people. Both had disappeared into woodland in all directions.

  Chaos!

  Many times, through the drifting smoke, she found herself searching for sight or sense of Ji. Of course, in all this mayhem, it was hopeless.

  On top of that, with every successive foray, she was forced to burn much deeper into the periphery of the forest than was safe. How far had the runners gone? Had Ji reached safety?

  A thunderous crack startled her. An inner section of tall trees exploded into flame, a belated conflagration after Ra's latest swoop. The guttural bellows of agony she heard were most certainly Zorgs, but the ensuing fireball with a tail-wind of its own, roared off in the direction she had last seen Ji riding his samblar.

  Almost as powerful as dragon-fire itself, the wild flames consumed every tree in its path, taking off with its own tail-wind.

  Ra, please do something! Can you kill one fire with another?

  The answer hovered between them as valuable seconds ticked by.

  Espira positioned him for another swoop, trying to weigh up the relative danger of such a move, but felt a flicker of hope.

  She made the decision.