Bound by Fire

by Ronald Craft

Chapter 38

  The fire snaked towards Ilian as if it had a life of its own. A voice from far off shouted at him to move, but he seemed frozen in place. His eyes watered as the flames neared him, but his feet still remained planted to the ground, as if in quicksand. Ilian's breath left him as a large hand shoved him out of the way, and sent him crashing into the ground.

  A wave of heat passed over him as the dark fire flew past. The smell of singed hair filled his nose. He tried to move his legs, and found they'd returned to normal. Voices that had been distant a moment ago now crashed into his skull.

  “...wrong with you?” Amaren shouted.

  “I've seen this power before.” Karena's gaze was fixed on remains of the home behind them that now burned with a fire dark as night. She turned and faced Ilian, her brow furrowed. “You once called forth dark flames exactly like these, Ilian.”

  Amaren nodded. “When you took my hand, your blade was covered in that same wicked fire.”

  Karena took a step towards the man swathed in a fire that burned white-hot. “Valnoth, I have returned. But, what is this power? I've never—”

  The man laughed. “So, one of Valnoth's followers still lives.” He grinned. “The one you know as Valnoth is gone. His body is mine.”

  “What?” Karena took a step forward. “Who are you? What did you do to Valnoth?”

  The man covered in dark flames cackled. “He's Dagfinn. Valnoth was consumed by him.”

  Karena stared, her mouth agape, a look of disbelief on her face. She drew her daggers, but made no attempt to move.

  Who is this man, and why is he using Bale's power? Ilian asked himself. And how is my father here? He was dead. I saw him die back in Lochden.

  “Ilian, you need to leave this place,” Kane said. “It isn't safe for you here.”

  He pushed himself back onto his feet, and met Kane's gaze. “You want me to leave?” Ilian shook his head. "I won't leave you again. Back in Lochden, I—”

  “That doesn't matter, Ilian. Lochden was a long time ago.”

  Ilian shook his head. “Yes, but I just... stood there and let Karena kill you. I didn't even try to help.”

  Karena crossed her arms. “It'd have been in vain. You're hardly a match for me.”

  Kane pointed at Karena. “You'd better shut your mouth and leave Ilian alone, woman.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I brought him here for a reason. There's questions I need answered. What have you done with Valnoth and my people, Kane?”

  The muscles in Kane's neck rippled as he clenched his teeth.

  Karena tightened her grip on the hilts of her daggers. “If you did this then you'll be the first to die. I'll kill you as many times as I have to. Perhaps you'll stay dead this time.”

  Kane gestured towards a man cloaked in white fire. “I don't care what you believe, Karena. I didn't do this.”

  The group in front of them made quite a sight. A pale man was surrounded by three others, one being his father, a man that used to be the head of Karena's order, Valnoth, and a fire demon that stood taller than many trees he'd seen.

  Ilian felt more awe than fear at the sight of the demon. It held a war hammer larger than any weapon he'd seen, and while it was imposing, he found himself admiring the design of it more than anything else.

  I'm a blacksmith through and through.

  When his gaze shifted to the man with flames wrapped around his body, Ilian did feel fear. His eyes were two bright spots of light so bright, it felt as if they would burn right through him.

  Amaren curled his fingers into a fist. “Dagfinn? That's the name of a god. What would a god be doing here?”

  Karena walked a few paces forward, and stopped. “What happened here?”

  Dafinn's lips curved upwards into a smile. “The worm,” he pointed at the pale man, who's eyes were fixed on Ilian, “went on a bit of a killing spree.”

  Karena bared her teeth. “It was him? I don't believe that. He's far too—”

  “Pathetic?” Dagfinn chimed in. “I agree. However, he does wield a portion of Bale's power. Even if it is only an imitation of the real thing.”

  Karena stared at Dagfinn. “What happened to Valnoth? Why did you take his body?”

  The man that had once been Valnoth shrugged. “He became the bridge I needed to, should I say, inherit his body? It was no less than he deserved after all I suffered through. Hundreds of years I spent in that dungeon while he used me for a wine skin.” He growled. “It's time for Dagfinn to return to the world.”

  Karena looked ready to pounce. Her body was taut, and wind gathered around her. “What is he called? Who is this man?”

  “Chaerok is his name,” Kane replied, with a look of disgust on his face. “He's the one that brought me back to life, and is the reason why I'm here today. I had to suffer along with him, and do things a blacksmith had no business doing.”

  Chaerok seemed to have eyes for no one but Ilian. The man's pale skin, and coal black eyes created an atmosphere about him that sent shivers down Ilian's spine.

  Who is this man, and how did he bring my father back from the dead?

  “I can feel it,” Chaerok croaked. “You have my heart, boy.”

  Dagfinn sent a blast of flame into Chaerok's back that slammed the frail looking man into the ground. There was a hole in his tunic where the flames had struck him, and the flesh underneath was burnt black. Chaerok screamed until Dagfinn cut him off with a kick to the ribs.

  “Keep your mouth shut, worm. It's not your heart. You're just some pieced together failure of an experiment.” Dagfinn picked Chaerok up by the hair, and said almost inaudibly, “I'm going to find out who's twisted idea it was to do create you, and put an end to their life.” He tossed Chaerok back into the dirt with a thud.

  Chaerok's face was twisted into an expression of pain and hatred, but his eyes never left Ilian.

  He looks at me like a starving man looks at food.

  “How is it he knows I have the heart of Bale?” Ilian asked.

  All eyes swung on him.

  Kane was the first to answer. “Valnoth told us right before everything here went to hell. The man was mad. Drinking a gods; blood drove him off the edge. Wait, you know about the heart? But how? I—”

  Chaerok chuckled. “You fool. His heart has been calling to me the entire time. What do you think I crossed the world for?” He raised one hand toward Ilian, and pointed weakly at his chest. “It was for the black heart that beats within that boys chest.”

  Karena pressed her lips together. “That man is mine. Don't kill him yet. I mean to have his life for all he's done here.”

  Dagfinn raised an eyebrow. “You shouldn't presume to tell me what I can or cannot do. Should I desire so, I could erase you from this world with little more than a snap of my fingers.”

  Karena took a step forward, and a whirlwind of dirt forming around her.

  His lips curved into a wicked grin, and he raised a hand. “However, I can see that this is something you should have.” Dagfinn gestured towards Chaerok. “His life is yours. I would make it quick if I were you, though. He's slippery.”

  Karena walked over to Chaerok, and grabbed him by the hair. She dragged over to some rubble, and slammed him against it.

  Amaren placed his hand on Ilian's shoulder, and bent down to whisper in his ear. “Something isn't right here. It might be better to take your father's advice and leave. There's nothing for us here now that Valnoth, and his people, are gone.”

  Ilian shoved Amaren's hand off him, and glared at the man. “You too? I won't leave my father again. I've spent this entire time regretting my actions, hating and plotting against Karena, and cursing my inability to do anything. No more. I'm through with running.”

  “As you wish,” Amaren said. “Just see that you don't regret those words.”

  The fire demon sat down on a nearby chunk of stone and leaned on his hammer. His gaze was fixed on Kane, and he grumble
d something under his breath.

  Kane sheathed his sword, and walked over to Ilian. There were tears in his eyes, and the muscles in his neck bulged as he clenched his teeth.

  Ilian felt tears stinging his own eyes, and wiped them away.

  It's a miracle. I never thought I'd see him again, but here he is.

  Ilian wrapped his arms around Kane, and they shared an embrace. “You're really here,” Ilian said over the tears. He felt a boy again.

  Kane grunted his reply.

  He couldn't help but laugh. Father had never liked showing tears, so he would grunt or groan rather than open his mouth and let the sob out.

  After a few precious moments passed, Kane gave him one last squeeze, and pushed him away. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he had regained his composure otherwise. “A lot has happened in the last year to the both of us. I hardly recognized you. You've grown so much since that night back in Lochden.”

  He reached for Ilian's hand, and traced the mark of the smith that had been burned into the flesh what seemed like a hundred years ago. “So long as you have this, you'll always be welcome amongst the blacksmith order. Never turn your back on it. It's who you are.”

  Ilian nodded. It's so good to hear his voice again. I missed him even more than I thought.

  “Do you think we could return to Lochden after all of this is over with?” He looked into Kane's eyes, and smiled. “It's been a hellish journey, and all I want to do is return home and beat on a horseshoe like old times.”

  Kane grinned, and shook his head. “I can't go back to Lochden. They'd not think highly of a dead man walking around the city.”

  He ruffled Ilian's hair just the same as he used to. “Don't worry, we'll find some place new to live. And I think it's time you learned more than horseshoes.” His eyes twinkled.

  “So, after all this time you'll finally teach me to make a sword?” Ilian laughed. “It's long overdue. I still dream of it now and then. A sword so fine it can slice through chain mail with ease. The blade is light and strong, and constantly changes colors. A double headed snake wraps around the hilt, and in each mouth is a different colored gemstone. It even can speak—”

  “You saw this sword in your dreams?” Dagfinn interrupted. He stood straight as a board.

  Ilian nodded. “Yes, in my dreams. Why do you ask?”

  “That's no ordinary sword you're describing, boy. It's been lost to us for thousands of years.” Dagfinn waved his hand, and an orb of fire appeared in front of him. From within it an image coalesced.

  “Th—That's the sword,” Ilian stammered. It looked exactly as it had in his dream. The sword shimmered, and refracted the light into beautiful hues of blue, red, green and yellow. It was even more vivid than the dream had been. “What sword is this?”

  The image vanished in a whirl of flame. “We call it Sky Breaker. This sword was once wielded by the old gods. It took all their power to harness its strength, and could only be used once every thousand years.”

  “Every thousand years? That's useless,” Amaren said.

  Dagfinn looked to the sky. “Useless? It had the power to unmake the world. A single swipe of that sword and every living thing on the planet would be annihilated.”

  I dreamed of a sword like that? Where did such dreams come from? But no sooner did he ask himself, than Dagfinn answered his question.

  “My brother, Bale, sought that weapon. He eventually gave up, swearing it didn't exist, but the fact that you've dreamed of it means that he yet aspires to obtain it.”

  “You needn't worry about him. He no longer has a body, “Ilian said. He tapped his chest for emphasis. “He lies dormant within me.”

  “He allows you to remain as you are. If you're seeing Bale's desires then he's no longer dormant.” Dagfinn cracked his neck. “I can't allow him to control you, nor can I allow this filth before me to get his hands on Bale's heart. I'm sorry, but you must die.” The flames around Dagfinn grew more dense and a lance of fire burst from his palm and solidified in his hand.

  Kane twisted around, and drew his sword. “Is this really necessary? Are you not satisfied with the number of dead bodies around us that you would add one more to their pile?”

  “It's something that must be done. Just as humans must breath, eat, drink and sleep, I must prevent my brother from gaining his dark desires. He was ever the tainted one.”

  “Sorry, but if you want to kill Ilian, you're going to have to get in line, god or not,” Amaren declared. “I have first dibs on killing him.” He held up the stump of his hand for emphasis.

  “So, a dog, and a one handed giant will be my opponents. You think to take on a god? Humans have less sense than I thought. I'm beginning to see why my brother wanted to purge you.”

  I won't let them do this alone.

  Ilian drew his knife, and took a step towards Dagfinn. “I won't just stand here and leave my friends to die. We shall see if a god can bleed.”

  Dagfinn spun the lance above his head, white hot flames coming from either end of it. A whirlwind of flame formed around his body. “You shan't get the chance.” He took a step, and then vanished in a blur of flame and ash.

  There was a grunt next to Ilian, and he froze as his eyes came into contact with Dagfinn's. The god's spear pieced Amaren's chest and exited his back.

  Ilian stumbled forward, and swiped blindly with his knife, but Dagfinn danced away with a cat-like grace. The spear through Amaren's chest vanished and reappeared in Dagfinn's hand.

  Amaren slumped to the ground, and landed with a crash.

  “Amaren!” Ilian drop to his knees, and shook him, but there was no response.

  Kane grabbed hold of Ilian, and threw him backwards. “Get back! You don't have the strength to fight him. He looks like a man, but don't be fooled. That is no man standing before you.” Kane raised his sword, and planted his feet. “It's a god.”

  Dagfinn pointed the tip of the spear at Amaren. “One down.” He moved the tip towards Kane. “You're next.”

  “There's got to be something I can do. Please, let me help!”

  Kane shook his head. “You don't understand, Ilian. He's not being serious. I've seen him fight, and he's toying with us. You need to leave while I still have the strength to hold him off.”

  It was happening all over again. Kane was against the wall, blood trickling from his body, and Ilian could do nothing but stand there and watch. He was helpless. Useless.

  Bale, if you're in there, please heed my call. I need your power. I need to save my father!

  No response.

  Bale, I know you're listening! Answer me you damn coward.

  There was a low rumble inside Ilian's head that sounded like laughter. There you go calling me a coward again, boy. I care not for this father of yours.

  Yes, but you need me, Ilian said to the voice within his mind. Without me you'll be trapped in darkness once more. Help me, or Dagfinn will destroy us both.

  A moment of silence descended upon him before the voice returned. You make a valid point. However, you already know how to use my power Ilian. You've used it before.

  Kane jumped forward, his sword whirling through the air. Dagfinn knocked it away, and thrust his spear out. It grazed Kane's side, but the blacksmith pressed on without stopping.

  Tell me, how do I invoke your power Bale?

  It's simple, Bale said. I'm a part of you. Your blood sustains me, and my power flows within your body.

  A grunt came from Kane as we was knocked back by a blast of white fire. He shifted the sword to his other hand, and pressed forward once more.

  Stop speaking in riddles and just tell me, Ilian said. There was precious little time, and he didn't have the patience for Bale's games.

  The answer is blood, Ilian. Your blood is the key to awakening my power.

  Ilian thought back to the times when he had fought the man outside the inn and when he had battled Amaren. Both times he had
been bloodied, and it was during those times that the fearsome dark flames had sprung to life on his blade.

  It was so simple, and yet I never saw. I'm such a fool!

  “Father, let me handle this.” Ilian grabbed Kane by the arm.

  Kane shook him off. “No, Ilian. It's too dangerous. Please, just get away from here.”

  “Trust me,” Ilian said. “I have a plan.”

  Kane met his gaze, and held it until, finally, he broke away and nodded. “So be it. You've grown up, Ilian. I should learn to trust in you more.” He placed his hand on Ilian's shoulder. “Just be careful.”

  Ilian returned the nod. “I will.” He faced Dagfinn.

  “So the boy wishes to rush to his death.” Dagfinn twirled the spear in his hand, and leveled it in front of him. “As you wish.”

  Ilian held the palm of his hand out and dragged the tip of his blade across it. He grimaced in pain as the knife bit into his flesh. Ilian squeezed the palm of his hand until blood flowed freely from it, and coated the blade from tip to hilt.

  His knife burst into flames.

  Dark fire covered the knife, and ran up his arm to the shoulder. The flesh in his hand burned and, pain lanced through his arm as the flesh mended.

  The blade became liquid in his hand, growing wider and longer, until settling in the shape of a sword. A pair of eyes on either side adorned the hilt of the blade. It was light in his hands. He slashed it downwards through the air once.

  And well balanced, he thought.

  Ilian held the sword before him. “Bale sends his regards.”