A Question of Power (The Fire Chronicles Book 2)

by Susi Wright

  Then. . .nothing! The flow seemed to stop of its own accord. The heat receded back to its source as if summoned, leaving Luminor with an overwhelming sense of ominous finality. Loss. Churian was gone!

  Luminor was stunned, immobilised by the reality of what had just happened and left with the burning question, Why? Was this my fault?

  Beside him, Melu acknowledged Churian’s passing with a high-pitched Morvian wail of bereavement and an appeal to his own deities.

  Luminor understood Melu’s every word. “Oh, Rulers of the Stars! Why let me save him. . .if he die anyway?” His fathomless eyes, as they searched Luminor’s, held that age-old question of the mysteries of Fate, to the powers that be. Unashamedly, a single tear fell from each eye as he stood, then he bowed his head in acquiescence, silent, wise enough to know there was no answer.

  Luminor slumped back tiredly and covered his face with his hands, his grief deepened by the awareness that he might never know whether or not he had been the cause of Churian’s death! Ironic. . . no matter how percipient one was, there were still mysteries untold.

  Their mutual silence spoke volumes. Above personal sadness for the loss of the man they had known and loved, there was respect, loyalty, gratitude and a growing sense of peace – perhaps it was for the best. At least, for Luminor, whose senses were still reeling from losing this battle, there was a glimmer of hope. . . that might be the truth of it.

  Perhaps, no-one would ever really know.

  Xandor had to give due credit to Aleana’s wisdom and compassion for the permission to ask for Serafina’s hand in marriage, though he railed at the condition – the traditional safeguard of a chaperon every time they were together. It was one of the more annoying Gaian traits, to be so interested in protecting everyone regardless of their desires. . .or because of them! In his own experience, Xandor had seen Lord Luminor himself condone the abandonment of the outdated tradition of arranged marriage, in these changing times. Luminor had not suffered the affliction of constant accompaniment during his early courtship of Fralii, except perhaps when Luminor’s sister Rihann had stepped in. No harm had come of their time on the road, just the two of them. No harm had come of his first encounter with Serafina – in the worst possible scenario. He considered that to be indisputable proof of his trustworthiness! Serafina herself was far from traditional; he would never want to change that. Surely, this was another of the old ways that could be happily left behind!

  At least, there was to be no delay: Serafina had insisted on it, in a hurried whisper, before she had been whisked off for evening meditation after their reunion. The wedding could happen as soon as two days time and bearing in mind he had already waited what seemed like an eternity, he accepted that as sufficient consolation. But it did not stop him from wishing the time away with a vengeance!

  They had so little time together the previous evening, much had been left unsaid. He was elated to be seeing Serafina again, since her declaration the previous day. Her brilliant, knowing smile would have knocked him off his feet, had he not already been kneeling. Had she known all along that they were destined to be together?

  He had so many questions to ask her, but he feared that being in her company might rob him of all reason and make him forget what they were! A movement to his left dragged him from his daydream. Ridiculously close, considering he was not yet in Serafina’s company, Bula shadowed him step for step, right on his elbow – all the way to the small villa which Serafina shared with three other single women. He wondered with slight irritation, Does she really think she could stop me if I wanted to knock her down, make a dash for it and lose her? She easily equaled him in weight, if not in height, powerfully built for a female of any race, but no match for a warrior of his calibre, even with his inbuilt reluctance to hurt any woman. He had a wayward thought that he might be able to make an exception in her case, if he had to!

  Realising his musings were not going anywhere sensible, he took a breath of reason and soldiered on, the overbearing chaperon at his side. All he really wanted to think about was his – yes his – beautiful Serafina! The trouble was, every time he thought about her, the idea of talking flew out of his head; instead he imagined hugging and kissing and all manner of other pleasant pastimes. His eyes flicked resentfully back to Bula and he knew there would be none of that!

  Finally, they knocked on the front door of the villa. Serafina appeared, opening it with the same brilliant smile she had at their parting the previous night. In that moment, he was sure her smile would sustain him indefinitely – on a desert island with no food or water!

  She ushered them inside to the small sitting room, where Bula quickly settled herself on the two-seater couch, squeezing cosily into the space next to Serafina, leaving Xandor the remaining chair on the opposite side of the room. Xandor could see that even intimate conversation was going to be difficult, if not impossible! Thank the Stars, it would not be like this for too long. He decided to push on, catching Serafina’s eyes and noticing how she was cleverly masking their intensity. He mused wryly, It will be a good day when she can unleash her full power on me!

  “Serafina, you are indeed a feast for this poor man’s eyes! More beautiful than ever! I am still trying to believe that I am not dreaming, that you will be my wife!” His quicksilver gaze, glittering with shards of topaz, hovered on her, unashamedly intense with desire, hiding nothing. He cast a momentary, rebellious look at Bula, before resolving to ignore her.

  “I have so much to ask you. . .but I guess we will have a lifetime!” He smiled widely. “I must ask one thing, however. Did you always know I would return to you?” The perceptive abilities of others never ceased to amaze him.

  “Yes, I knew when we parted on Siva beach and I kept the knowledge in my secret heart, from that day to this!” She glanced down at her hands, then made eye contact once more and Xandor received a glimpse of other unspoken mysteries. He felt strangely compelled to ask about some of her newer talents.

  “I hear, you found Espira, on the battlefield, and coaxed her wandering spirit back to reality. That you helped us save Lord Luminor’s life. . .that your presence was there, though I never saw you! I dreamed of you often, even earlier, when it was not my right to. Such vivid dreams. . .I am curious. . .if you could do that. . .be there on the Plains of the King. . .did you ever – ” Serafina silenced him with a wide-eyed look of warning, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. He obediently fell silent, her meaning and his answer suddenly there in her gaze for him alone.

  He grinned for her alone. Then they set about making a few simple plans for the wedding.

  CHAPTER 56

  Tribute and Truths

  A day and a half passed happily, planning the special day. It was to be a simple ceremony without fanfare or pomp, keeping only the heartfelt vows to which they had no objection. Xandor found himself waiting, as impatiently as any groom, in a modest chamber, one of many public meeting rooms adjacent to City Hall.

  It was only half an hour but it seemed like a day, before Serafina finally arrived. Her choice of gown had surprised every bystander on the way to the Hall. When Xandor laid eyes on her, he was stunned by her beauty, but not so surprised at her selection of a gown, as he took in her appearance with doting eyes.

  Serafina! Named by her nurse, after the fire she saw in an orphan’s eyes. The orphan- child, a woman-grown now, was not traditional by any stretch of the imagination. That fact was obvious now more than ever, not gaudy or overstated, but stunningly elegant. The woman of his dreams. Her bright silver hair cascaded around her shoulders down to her waist. Her amber eyes reflected hints of fire-red. She wore a flowing, ruby-red velvet gown, the colour of blood, the life-force of All-Living, the carrier of the Fire of Healing. How fitting a choice – symbolic of the true essence of the woman – a passionate, extraordinary healer and the woman he loved more than life itself!

  The wedding was attended by Xandor’s mother, who arrived with Aleana and two of Serafina’s house-sisters, now her close fri
ends. None of Xandor’s Gaian comrades were in the Capital, though he did invite a few human friends he had made while he had been working in the city. The ceremony was presided over by the only priest available at such short notice and concluded quickly, allowing them their very first kiss, which was far too brief. The small group travelled by carriage back to the villa, where a modest celebration dinner had been laid out and a lone fiddler played a tune or two.

  The newly-weds were almost too excited to eat, picking fussily at their meals. The food was left half-eaten when a floor space was cleared for dancing in the centre of the dining room. Serafina literally fell into Xandor’s arms, under the guise of a slow tarantan, their eyes only for each other as they held on tight, stopping to kiss, then twirling joyfully in a real embrace, so long-denied. Xandor whispered secrets for her ears only, how he couldn’t wait for them to be alone. Looking directly into her eyes with a devilish smile, he dared her, in hushed tones, “Do what you did when we first met! I am starving for your love! I love you so!” With her back to their company, Serafina gifted her soul-mate with just a taste of her heated gaze, saving the rest for when they were finally alone.

  Completely missing the look she bestowed on Xandor and shutting their ears to the lovers’ talk and frequent kisses, his human friends were simply overjoyed to have a rare excuse to dance with the pretty Gaian girls.

  The friends’ fun was a little short-lived, because soon, no one in the room could avoid noticing the couples’ dance had become an increasingly amorous encounter – that visitors were more than a hindrance to the newlyweds – and they all left discreetly by mutual agreement, leaving the couple to their privacy, free at last to follow their hearts.

  Time and place meant nothing, except that this was their time and everything was as it should be! In the bliss of true love, they gave reign to their mutual desire, totally absorbed in each other, consumed in the burning tide of passion. The entwined lovers, needing no bedchamber, cradled all that was love in each others’ arms. The ecstasy of their flight, the Link, true love, was all they needed.

  The fire in the hearth had burned down to cinders and the first light of dawn had crept through the casement window, long before their ardour was spent and they slept peacefully at last in Love’s embrace, still unwilling to let go.

  Battle-hardened warriors cried that day. Luminor and many of his men, even some of the older ones, had been graced by Churian’s tutoring over the course of their training. The old warrior’s valuable knowledge had been pivotal in preserving and perpetuating the old arts in the practices of this clan-line. His legacy lived on in these Gaians, particularly in the high levels attained by some of his students in the art of Perception. Those connected to him in this indelible way felt his passing keenly, though sensing Luminor’s positive influence above everything, none had expected it.

  The funeral ceremony, held in the quiet predawn hour, attracted many others from the wider community. They had risen early, roused by the reports from the Lealander guards on the walls – the sight of rows of cloaked and hooded warriors gathering silently, bearing candles, out on the open ground between the monastery and the palace. New Gaian clan-members and humans alike found vantage points on the parapets or crept unobtrusively closer to the scene, curious about the man named Churian, whom most of them had never met but now knew of his reputation. He had commanded enormous respect during his lifetime of service, a life which had seen many historical battles and witnessed Luminor’s father, Thunis, take on the title of Lord of Fire. More recently, he had seen the unfolding of the prophecy, the ascension of Luminor to that esteemed title and the famous quest to kill the flame adder. He had played his brave part in the Battle of the Fires. A great life!

  Some who were close enough recognised Melu at the forefront of those paying homage at the graveside. They wondered at the far-reaching influence of the old warrior. The story of how Churian had saved the Morvian’s life and vice versa was repeated anew, in respectfully hushed tones.

  Not man, nor woman among the observers, who continued to watch Melu’s personal tribute in fascination, could find it in their hearts to censure the Morvian tradition.

  Melu, silent tears flowing, abandoned all convention in his grief, ripped off his clothes and with his dagger, made two shallow incisions in his chest. He placed the knife carefully on a boulder. Smearing the blood on his face with his good hand, he began a slow, solemn dance around the grave, very quietly singing prayers of burial, in his melodious native tongue.

  Those whispers of musical notes were the only sound, just audible above the abiding silence of the gathering and carried on the breeze like precious invisible leaves, to mark the passing of the mighty oak that had been Churian.

  Some time later, as the sun began to appear over the eastern hills, the group began to disperse quietly one by one. The new day brought with it another round of toil for the living, sadness made way for the building of a new life from the ashes of the city and all bent their backs to this purpose.

  A few days later, Luminor and Melu spent another day overseeing the progress around the city on samblar-back. They both noticed how well Prince Rolin had shouldered his kingly responsibilities, with the support of his loyal right-hand man, Captain Rendel. Things were happening quite quickly with the help of Gaian talents. Another hunting party had returned with some large game, two lapins from a herd that escaped the fires. Being water-dwelling, they had taken cover in the depths of a lake. A small group of human survivors had been discovered roaming the craggy mountain slopes to the east. Thin and traumatised, they were brought back to the monastery for minor burns, relieved and grateful for the treatment and a proper meal in their bellies. Other patients were recovering well due to the healing properties of that miraculous herb, Prian.

  Luminor winced as he turned in the saddle to speak to Melu. His own wound was almost healed, but not quite, still tender when he twisted his torso; he now considered it a minor discomfort, quickly disregarding it to converse with his friend. He spoke in Gaian, knowing Melu understood far more than anyone expected.

  “We have all learned much from this, would you agree?” he posed the question in a reflective mood, as much to himself as his companion. Melu nodded sagely, remaining silent. Luminor sighed. “I have learned much! I know now, that no one person can take full credit nor blame for everything. No one fully controls anything! And many things remain unknown, that need to be. The question of Power is a question of balance: Love and courage, in a true heart, the equaliser. The talents we have are all precious gifts we should never take for granted, for like gold, they are all tested by the Fires! Like agronite steel, our characters are tempered by aspects of that same element to emerge strong and beautiful! Like particles of dust from the Earth from which we come, we each hold some of the secrets of Existence. . .but not all! Only together, have we hope!” His gaze returned to the scene in front of them.

  The two friends observed Commander Stolis, an experienced campaigner, a respected and very capable Baramese leader in his own right, working with the Gaian elders and the Lealanders in a true spirit of co-operation. Tradesmen were putting the finishing touches on a few more simple houses in the eastern city area. Radiating outwards from the palace walls to the west, were several large fields of newly planted corn, already a few inches high in the mild weather. A few more weeks of help, by a mere one dozen gifted warriors and half the Baramese army left as retainers, would see the job of planting and rebuilding done. All the others, old and new clan members who did not choose to stay, could now leave for Baram.

  It did not take much contemplation to come to a conclusion. “Come, Melu, our work is finished here! Understanding here is good enough, I think. They do not need us any longer. Now, Churian is gone – ” he looked sadly into Melus eye’s, “ we have no reason to stay! Our duty is elsewhere. . .I believe it is time for us to see our beautiful wives and families again!”

  Time indeed!

  Epilogue

  One year later
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br />   It was Ardientor’s first birthday. Luminor’s extended family and friends laughed and chatted around the large dining table, in celebration of the occasion. His sister, Rihann, and her husband Simban were now proud operators of a lucrative samblar breeding facility. They and their adopted children, Ana and Ji, had ridden to the Capital in a new record time on four of their magnificent animals, a credit to Simban’s reputation. Even Chadren and Fralii’s aging grandfather, Runo, had made the journey by carriage from Splendo. Aleana, seated next to Altor and his human wife Lissel, nursed the couple’s three week old baby girl, her fifth grandchild, on her lap.

  Sumar and Saria sat together on the other side of the table, with Jon next to them. Sadly, Saria’s mother, Rosal, had passed away not long after their arrival in the Capital. Her continuing frailty could not be remedied. Since the first day, Sumar had taken on the responsibility of protecting Saria; he had never let down his watch over her. Some of his attention, his unfailing kindness, she perceived; some of it, by Sumar’s design, she did not. He was ever-sensitive, finding every opportunity to be in her company, but never pushing. Unobtrusive and patient, he continued to press his gentle suit. The two had found much in common, comparing their histories of lost love and suffering, becoming close friends. Things were developing slowly, but it was as Sumar wished. He had the patience of a guardian angel, becoming gradually indispensable to Saria, even if she did not know it. He knew she always looked forward to his company and their conversations. He enjoyed taking care of her. He was a Protector, when all was said and done! Eventually, he was certain, it would be more. The gentle Fire of Healing was gradually wrapping its warming arms around him – around them all. In this moment, he also felt the warmth of Mala’s encouragement, deep in his psyche, as he looked at Saria and smiled. She smiled back. . .and the future seemed brighter than ever!