Fire's Song

by J E Mueller

  SHAUDREY: BOOK ONE

  FIRE’S SONG

  J.E.Mueller

  Published 2017 by J.E.Mueller

  Cover by Ravenborn

  Book formatting by Lia at Free Your Words

  Contents

  Title Page

  Publishing Info

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  This book is dedicated to Elyse

  Thank you for being you – best friend, sister, and fellow unicorn lover. Thank you for believing in me. Without you, I may not have taken this leap. May there always be joy and magic in your life.

  Chapter 1

  My favorite memory was that of a song Mother used to sing when we were little. The words were lost to me, but the melody stayed. Mother had stopped singing it before I was four, but the rest of the family never stopped humming the tune. The melody was soft, sweet, and melancholy. It always reminded me of parting from a loved one when you were unsure of when your paths would cross again.

  When my life was at its darkest moments; when I needed comfort, I found the tune would come to me, unbidden. The soft sound escaping my lips would surprise me sometimes.

  I would remember when I was younger, when my world wasn’t about to burst into flames. Hope was abundant, wonderful, beautiful. Now I was running again. The tune was on my mind – my breath too short to sing it.

  The fire danced gleefully behind me, not knowing how deeply it pierced my heart. It was a painful sight to leave behind. Half of the village was covered in flame and there was nothing more I could do to help. All the effort I had made to fix things was now slowly turning to ash. I had spent so much time there. So much time and yet… Another was dead. This one knew the full story, all of my past, and it still wasn't enough to save him.

  Ha! Knowing of them meant nothing with curses.

  The pain dug deeper as I tried to push the thoughts away and concentrate on my path. The field I had been traveling through quickly gave way to shrubs and small trees. No one had seen me leave the town, and now it was far enough behind me that I could barely see its walls. I knew soon I’d be far enough away to no longer see the fire. Vanishing into the night was easy, and it was much better than facing the aftermath of the destruction I had unintentionally caused. If it could even be seen as my fault.

  I pushed branches out of my way as I went deeper and deeper into the surrounding woods. It didn’t matter where I went, as long as it was further away.

  My mind kept switching from focusing on ducking beneath low branches and avoiding tangled roots trying to trip my feet, to all the people left with such an ugly disaster. He was warned – they all were. Whispers took flight, everyone knew of the curse, and still it wasn’t enough.

  I could not focus on where I was going. My thoughts couldn’t stay on track. The villagers thought the curse wouldn’t be a problem, that it could be worked with. Reassurance that it wouldn’t be a problem had tugged at my heart, leading me to stay. The kind words had worked their way into my soul.

  But those words hadn’t stopped him from dying and now the misery of all that had occurred was left to sink like a spike deep through my heart and into my core.

  Darkness had fully claimed the sky and the signs of fire were dwindling as I pressed through the underbrush as quickly and quietly as possible. The further I went the more I noticed how the forest came to life. Crickets chirped, owls were waking up, and the soft rustling of deer filled my ears. It was a calming retreat, if only slightly. I tried to let the earthy smell push the heartache behind me as the sight of the fire finally vanished from view.

  The foliage along the path thickened, slowing my pace. Thankfully, the woods took over the lingering scent of burning wood and all I could smell was the dampness of the greenery around me. At least I assumed that it was around me. The world was now turning black due to the lack of clear moonlight.

  I eased my pace and calmed my heart as rushing ahead became too risky. I couldn’t afford a broken ankle. This wasn’t the first time I had sped away from disaster, and it was unlikely that this time would be the last. I knew I needed to clear my head.

  Sometimes I wished someone would have trained me better to endure this curse filled life or ended this miserable nightmare when they had a chance. Mother, so naive, had been told what was to come. She was a lovely queen, full of life, health, and joy. The mother of five wonderful children, and then a child born with a curse. Not that I was a terrible child. The short straw had been drawn on my life before I was even born.

  It had come to pass that her glorious, battle-hungry king wanted nothing more than to expand the kingdom at whatever cost. His strategies were often unmatched; his mind was too clever to fall for traps and poor planning. He was hailed as a conqueror and he became cocky. He became so sure of himself that he ignored the seer’s warnings to delay the next campaign until the season of storms had passed.

  Onward he drove his men, sure of another easy victory.

  The skies raged with ice and hail. His men were dying all around him from battle wounds, infection, and sickness. But to the king surrender or retreat were not to be considered. His advisors pleaded with him to turn back, but he would not heed him.

  Instead, the king had another plan.

  He stole away into the night of a new moon and called out to whatever demons would listen. His voice was full of demands and his mind filled with the glory and splendor of victory. No one knew what damned creature emerged in that darkness to strike a bargain.

  By dawn, the king returned and without rest marched his remaining troops into battle. Battle cries met horrified screams, though which side was more terrified was unknown. The returning men would speak not of what happened that fateful day. The king had won. The battleground was charred and life refused to grow on the scorched field.

  The king, feeling unstoppable after such a win, drank deeply, basking in the glory of his victory. Many soldiers heard the king boast to his remaining generals of what he did and at what cost. Over and over the king told his tale of how he made such a clever pact to seize the day. Enraged by what they had heard, his dwindling forces hashed a plan.

  The king never made it home.

  The generals told the queen what happened. Mother listened to them all in turn, taking every slight variation of the story into consideration. Those involved in the battle had their many reasons for turning on the king. He had callously sold his unborn child’s soul without a second thought. Following that, he forced his remaining men to either fight alongside demons or die. While some choose death, many more wanted to make it home to their family and loved ones they had left unwillingly.

  All were pardoned
. Their reasons were fair and just in the eyes of the queen.

  That was the first time she heard her husband had given up the soul of her next born for victory on the battlefield. However, the queen knew her husband was mad with power, and that was a hunger that would drive many to the depths of hell.

  Months went by, and Mother’s due date was quickly approaching when a maiden of prophecy appeared at the castle door. What harm could words do? Mother already knew of the curse. She thought she already knew all the prophet would say and was curious if she guessed right. Much to Mother's surprise, the prophet did have some new information. She explained to mother that her child’s soul was only half forfeit.

  While the battle was declared over, the deal the king had struck was not closed until home was within his sight. The king had died on the journey, so the contract wasn’t considered fulfilled. Half a promise kept, half a prize taken. One cannot survive with half of a soul, so in its place a curse was bestowed. The vigor of the curse depended on how close to home the king actually was. The closer to home, the more terrible the curse.

  Excited by the unexpected news, Mother saw hope. Curses could be defeated. They had been in the past. The prophet warned she would see no such victory, but Mother shooed her away, hearing only the words she wanted to hear. Rational thoughts vanished with what she considered a clear sign of good to come.

  A fairy tale ending was all Mother sought. In a world of magic, curses, and wonder who was to say there wasn’t a chance? She let those who lived in the castle keep know what the prophet had said, but in her owns words. She had picked what she wanted heard and only let her version of the tale be known. Mother decided to tell all that my soul was my own, free from the demon's clutches. Everyone was lead to believe that I wasn’t cursed. The men who had slain the king celebrated with a liveliness that was unrivaled. The queen was unconcerned as to what could happen, since in her own mind it would be nothing too terrible to deal with. A problem for another day.

  I stumbled over a few hidden branches and snapped out of my reverie. I was glad I never met the former king. No use calling someone father when they had tried to sell your soul. Pausing, I brushed myself off and tried to get my bearings. The night was growing cloudy and cool. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite past harvest yet and the cold season was still distant. Either way, my cloak was in my bag somewhere, and I had enough time to pick somewhere to stay before the weather could catch up with me.

  Choosing to go east, I began my journey anew, if only for a moment. The sudden rustling behind me was surprising and very noticeable, as well as too close for comfort. I wondered how long I was being followed before I had tripped. Again, I stopped in my tracks after moving a few more steps forward and my pursuer stopped as well. Carefully, I took a few tentative steps forward, as did whatever was behind me.

  I took a deep breath and continued forward for a few moments. Whatever it was, it was keeping a fair distance and did not appear to be a threat. Casually, I called out as I continued to walk, “It’s not nice to follow a lady in the dark.”

  They paused for a moment before following me once more. “I know why it is you run, child.” The feminine voice was sweet and calming. Her tone was soft and filled with wisdom. Likely a well-gifted and trained prophet, soothsayer, person of vision, whatever they currently liked to be called. In a world of curses, it was no surprise that other gifts appeared in abundance.

  “That’s lovely.” I replied flatly. I had heard that line before. It was as if my curse attracted these types of people. “Perhaps you may know something more useful, like where I should be going?”

  Without hesitation, she ignored my snide remark, “I know more than you would like to think.” Suddenly her hand was on my shoulder. I hadn't even heard her pick up her pace. Gifted indeed.

  I stopped to take a good look at her. The moonlight wasn’t too much help for me to see clearly and all I could make out was a hunched figure in a hooded cloak. Her cloak matched the color of the forest, letting her blend in with ease.

  “Now is the time to listen, child,” she said urgently. “My dear little Key. You are young and sweet. What is it now? Nineteen? You have no reason to run. The tragedy is all in your head.” She motioned towards where I had come from. “Listen now or before the next full moon you will be met with my words!”

  “Your words are ridiculous and mean nothing. You’ve no idea what is going on. The path I choose is my own,” I replied, finally shaking her hand off my shoulder. “I owe you no ear, keep your words.” Prophets love telling people with curses what to do with their lives, and it was turning into a tiring game. One I was not interested in dealing with after my curse had flared out again tonight.

  “You choose wrongly. No matter. My words will be true. When the night of the full moon comes, then you will listen. Then you will understand.” She turned away from me, shaking her head.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, putting my hand to my forehead. She was giving me a headache. “Yes, fine as you sa-” I opened my eyes but she had already vanished without a sound. Damned prophets. It was nigh impossible to tell if it was part of their gift to be surrounded in mystery or if they were taught as much.

  Her disappearance momentarily made me angry. Who was she to declare what was going on? He was dead; that was where the recent tragedy began. Saying it was all in my head was impossible. I felt him become lifeless, his chest moved no more. Lee was gone.

  Taking deep breaths, I let the forest’s calm wash over me. The prophet was an idiot, like a fair share of the others I had dealt with in my early childhood. It was better that she was now gone from my sight.

  Continuing on, I grumbled to myself about the prophet. Prophets’ talents were too strong at times, and it bothered me that somehow this one knew my name. If I saw her again I’d have to ask if it was her gift that gave her that knowledge or if she had come to that answer another way.

  For now, I wanted to get as far away from this disaster, and her, as possible. I wanted all of the new problems in my life to be gone and to throw myself into something else until the ache I felt faded and I could move on with my life once more.

  Chapter 2

  By the time I woke up it was late morning. I had covered a great deal of distance in my fury and heartbreak, but sleep had been fleeting and restless. I felt hung-over from the emotions lingering inside of me. With practiced ease I swept the emotional entanglements aside. I could sort through them later.

  The sky promised decent weather today. Only a few clouds hung around and the sun was nearly at its peak – maybe another two hours before noon. As I looked around I came to realize that I knew where I was.

  Getting up, I rubbed the dirt and dust from myself as best I could and rummaged through my pack for something to eat. I knew nearby would be a lake where I could refill my water-skins, and just past that was a town. It would be a great spot to find some fresh food and perhaps some real shelter.

  The old pain threatened to overwhelm me as I fondly remembered staying in this town a number of times. I always left before I could get too attached to where I was and who I stayed with, lest they all ended up dead.

  I wasn’t born a nightmare; I just grew into one. A curse one is born with cannot come into the world with ease if it is already at its full strength. Curses grow and mature as you do. I was born with an intense fever, and as the days went on, many were concerned it would kill me.

  It became apparent as I continued to not only live, but thrive, that my natural temperature was quite high. When it was clear I was fine, and that my temperature wasn’t changing the rumors began. It started as softly spoken whispers. Eventually word reached my mother that the castle thought I was still cursed and that mother had been mislead. Mother hushed the rumors and limited the staff around me in an attempt to keep their fearful words at bay.

  My name day was an immense celebration – a show of new beginnings. To demonstrate how much my mother believed my life would bring joy and open new doors to our Kingdom of Shau
drey, she named me Kikara. This was in honor of a strong willed queen from long ago who was said to have brought about many wonderful changes and broke barriers as the first woman to rule our land. Quickly, my name became Key for short.

  At first, growing up was the same as it was for any young child. The biggest difference was that my body was always too warm. Everyone made a point not to touch me because sometimes it felt like my skin could burn them.

  My siblings knew the truth.

  They were expected to help defeat the curse so that our family could be at peace. A warring royal family meant a ruined kingdom, and mother made sure we all had that engraved into our brains. Never once did she speak of the curse as a negative thing, but rather a gift to learn about and work with.

  My siblings and I had our good moments, and moments we all chose to forget. There was a fairly wide age gap among the six of us. The two oldest were training to be leaders at ages nine and ten when I came into the world. The others were seven, five, and four. Our appearances were often all the proof one needed to know we were family. Even when we fought there was no denying our kinship. Mother had eyes like a lake; blue and filled with hope and life. All of us shared that feature with her. The only trait we didn’t share with her was our hair. Instead of a lovely shade of wheat, all of us had deep chestnut colored hair much like our deranged father. I always loved the color, even though I hated the one from which it came.

  The first sign of my blossoming curse was one that could not be ignored. Though I was only three at the time, the moment was burned vividly in my mind.

  We were outside in the courtyard. My brother, Isaac, and I were playing with his toy swords and he was showing me what he had been learning. I kept getting bored with his tutorial and wanted to play, not master some technique Isaac thought was fun. Mother was just out of sight somewhere in the gardens, and I remembered that most of the others were there as well. Such little facts slip my memory. Probably for the better.