Gods and Heroes- Rise of Fire

by Brendan Wright

  He ended up staying in Azar for a month, changing inn every week. On the third week, he left the inn without a disguise on. He shaved his head, and was pleased to see how much of a difference it made to his appearance. When no one recognised him and another week went by, he stopped using the disguise altogether. He left Azar after that, and travelled to another port on the Western coast. He intended to go back to Omas, but he wasn’t going back to Omatus. That would come much later.

  Zanela

  Zuzuk mostly stayed near the forest floor. Zanela had no idea where they slept, or if they even slept at all. Like her ancestors and the modern Shenza, she kept to the canopy. She only ventured down to hunt and to drink. She survived a few Zuzuk attacks, but each time it seemed to be pure luck. Each day, she grew more fearful her luck would run out.

  She considered trying to leave Shanaken, But the idea was as brief as it was ridiculous. She belonged here, even if the Shenza wouldn't have her. The forest was her home. Without knowing exactly why, she travelled every month or so, heading slowly towards the centre of the forest. Dulkuud. The Eternal Mountain. It towered above even the tallest of the gigantic trees of the forest. Home to Amalus, the God of Life, it was sacred to the Shenza. It was said to be the resting place of all Shenza who lived and died honourably, and the birthplace of Kaizel; Shadow Magic.

  She wondered now if it was possible to see the spirits of the dead if she climbed to the top. If it was possible to see Amalus itself. The stories made no distinction between the physical mountain and the mountain of the afterlife; they were the same thing. An odd cold feeling crept over her skin as she stared at the giant mountain. Could a mortal person really just walk into the afterlife? What if the stories were false and there was nothing at the top but grass and rocks?

  What if the stories aren't false? Somehow, the thought left her terrified. What would happen if Amalus greeted her at the top of the mountain? What if she survived the climb and Dakesh's spirit was already waiting for her? Suddenly the climb was all she could think about. She needed to know if the Shenza afterlife was real. She needed to know what really lay at the top of Dulkuud. Even if she didn't survive the journey, so what? No one would miss her. She wasn't welcome in the city. Dakesh was gone.

  Packing her things wasn't necessary. Her clothing and her sword were her only belongings. A small amount of fruit huddled in a large leaf in the hollow where she slept; she took that too, but she would forage as she went. As dangerous as it was, the forest provided no shortage of food for those who knew where to look.

  Climbing and jumping between trees was second nature to Zanela, even without the climbing frames of the Shenza for help. Still, travel was slow. Foraging could take a while; the steps she took to avoid detection by any potential predators in the area made everything take far longer than it should have.

  Zuzuk weren't the only threats, either. Almost every form of life in the forest was a weapon honed by Amalus to protect Shanaken. The Duulshen said Amalus started small, when the trees of Shanaken were still young; first making plants which could trap and devour threats to the forest. Ancient Ermoori travelled to the newborn forest, coveting its beauty and wanting to make it their home. But they cut through the small vines and young trees and started building homes of stone and metal over the soft grass.

  As the trees grew taller, their protectors grew larger: after vines and carnivorous plants came venomous spiders and snakes. The Ermoori developed medicines and traps to protect against Amalus' new creations. Then as the trees reached new heights, the Lakshaidan were created to swing through the canopies and watch over the forest from above. The Lakshaidan were the same body shape as the Ermoori, but covered in mottled green fur with toes as long and dexterous as their fingers. They were stronger and faster than the invaders, and knew how to use simple tools and weapons.

  When the Ermoori started out-thinking the Lakshaidan, Amalus created the Shenza. The Best of these warriors were turned into Zuzuk, and after the Zuzuk were created Amalus was done. The Ermoori were defeated and banished, and Amalus retired to the peak of Dulkuud to rest.

  Carnivorous trapping vines, venomous snakes, spiders and the Lakshaidan were still plentiful in Shanaken. Zanela took her time travelling through the forest. The canopy was mostly safe. Lakshaidan were peaceful unless attacked, but were fiercely territorial. She avoided them as much as possible, travelling in wide circles around the massive trees they gathered in.

  This far from the city, the forest was thick and wild. No Shenza magic touched this place. This was pure life, intense and chaotic. Despite the constant sense of danger, Zanela loved it. Out here she felt free and wild. The feeling grew stronger the closer she came to Dulkuud. By the time she reached the mountain's base, the forest was so thick she could almost walk through the canopy from tree to tree without climbing or jumping.

  Dulkuud itself was gigantic. When she reached the foot of the mountain and stared up at it, it was as though nothing else existed. Even the massive trees of Shanaken looked insignificant compared to the towering mountain. The trees growing on the mountain itself were far smaller than those of the forest, but they were plenty big enough to climb. Without a look back, Zanela climbed.

  How long has it been? Weeks? Months? Surely no longer. Zanela sat on the branch of a tree, looking out over the forest of Shanaken from impossibly high up the Eternal Mountain. Shanaken was a sea of mottled green, so far below her it was almost featureless. Beyond the forests, just visible on the horizon, was the bright blue of the ocean.

  Dulkuud brimmed with life, yet felt oddly quiet. Beings of every type moved constantly on the ground, in the air, and through the trees. The water of the rivers was so clear the riverbeds would have been easily visible were it not for endless schools of fish swarming downstream. Creatures she never knew existed crawled, leapt and flew all around her.

  A powerful sense of calm enveloped the entire mountain. On the first day of her climb, she had come across a Zuzuk as it prowled around the trunk of a tree and saw her. Its eyes regarded her with an intense stare and it stepped closer to her. Even on all fours, it was as tall as she was. They stood eye-to-eye for a moment; a young Shenza woman and the ultimate predator. Still, the calm of the mountain dissolved any fear she may have felt. Staring into the predator's eyes, she saw its intelligence, its curiosity. It was almost like looking into the eyes of a fellow Shenza. The ancient myth was suddenly all too real in her mind.

  "I wonder what your name was before you became... this." She laid her hand on its cheek gently. It looked down, thinking, and then back up at her and shook its head. The meaning was painfully clear; the beast didn't remember. Her heart broke for it.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. She stepped away, heading again for the top of the mountain. The Zuzuk let out a low growl. Stopping, she frowned and looked back at the massive animal. It sat on its hind legs and lowered its head to the ground, looking up at her. A deep loneliness emanated from its eyes. She walked back to where it sat and lowered herself to the ground next to it. Something about the creature's presence was comforting. They slept next to each other on the forest floor that night.

  Zanela woke with the sunrise, curled up on the forest floor. The Zuzuk lay still next to her, wide awake; waiting for her. She stood and stretched the stiffness out of her body, looking up towards the mountaintop.

  "Are you travelling with me?" She asked the beast. Its head nodded up and down. They set off together, across the forest floor. There was no danger here; no need to stick to the canopy. She couldn't think of anything more to say to the animal, and it couldn't talk at all, so they walked in a comfortable silence.

  The Zuzuk moved with grace and absolute confidence through the forest, and Zanela followed close behind. Now that she didn't have to avoid danger or spend too long foraging for food and shelter, the journey was far easier. The Zuzuk occasionally stopped to tap the ground with its massive paw, staring at her intently until she nodded. Stay here. Then it disappeared in a blur of movement. Within an h
our, it returned with one of its giant paws full of fruit, vegetables and fish.

  She could do it herself, and the Zuzuk knew it, but the beast still took care of her as they journeyed up the mountain. Eventually, they came upon a thick fog which obscured everything. The entire forest disappeared underneath a cold blanket of white. She called out to the Zuzuk ahead of her, losing sight of it. She felt a small stab of fear for the first time since beginning the climb. Nothing happened. She felt life teeming through the forest around her, but saw absolutely nothing. A bird or possibly some giant insect swooped past her ear, close enough to feel its scratchy wing. She ducked and closed her eyes.

  A friend of her parents, a warrior named Kalesh, was blinded by an Ermoori weapon during the last invasion when she was a child. He could walk slowly along the platforms of the city, but needed constant assistance and care. Now, huddled in an endless field of impenetrable fog, Zanela felt overwhelming sorrow for Kalesh. He lived this terror every day, every moment.

  More creatures zipped past her, finding their way effortlessly through the fog. Every chatter, every wing flap, every sudden squawk grated on her resolve. She flinched at every sound. A giant creature stomped on the ground right next to her and she screamed. A wet, cold nose gently nudged her face. After a few moments of paralysing fear she realised it was the Zuzuk travelling with her. Letting out a ragged sigh, she threw her arms around the beast and held it until her heart slowed again.

  When they set out again, Zanela kept a hand on the Zuzuk's back. It walked slowly for her, and they continued like that through the fog. Hours later, the Zuzuk disappeared to find more food for them, and she was again left alone in total blindness. She closed her eyes and sat on the ground with her hand resting on the hilt of her blade, willing her heartbeat to remain steady. When the Zuzuk appeared again, her eyes flew open and she embraced it a second time.

  They continued through the fog, and after another half day's walk the forest gradually reappeared before her eyes. Behind her, the path now looked like the shoreline of an opaque white ocean. Treetops emerged from the fog like mountains on a distant island. Together, they moved further away from the fog. When they were far enough from it that she could relax again, she climbed a tall tree while the Zuzuk waited on the ground.

  Not fog, she marvelled, clouds! We've climbed so high we're standing above the clouds! Stretching out in every direction, the billowing clouds looked utterly different from anything she'd ever seen before. The sun shone down on them, turning them a pure, bright white. They somehow looked rough and soft at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a gap open up. A slight stretch of sand and trees appeared, and a deep blue streak of ocean. It was unbelievably tiny. From above the clouds, trees that had dwarfed her became smaller than her little finger. She turned, craned her neck and glanced up the mountain, the way they were heading. Even this high, above the clouds, they were still far from the top of the mountain.

  Aella

  As soon as the sun rose, the tribe packed up and started the long journey up the volcano. It took more than a month to reach the plateau where the festival was held. Aella couldn't shake the feeling of unease and impending doom as they trudged up the side of the gigantic mountain. As she walked, she heard the odd whispering constantly. It never grew in volume, but it was always present, gnawing at the edges of her mind the way sand and wind slowly grind ancient stone buildings down to nothing. She could barely focus, and it was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. She tried joining the conversation of the warriors around her, but eventually the wordless whispers drowned them out.

  Summer began, and the higher they travelled, the hotter it became. Every year before this one, Aella was filled with energy and magic during the journey up the volcano. Now she fought to avoid collapsing, and desperately hoped she wasn't going insane.

  Erasmus noticed her change in demeanour. He knew she was a quiet person, and didn't push her to talk. Instead he walked beside her, always there and ready to support her if she needed it. She loved him deeply in that moment, and somehow, like a sudden cool breeze in the middle of the desert, the whispers stopped. Her sudden smile almost made Erasmus trip on the rock-strewn path, and her smile turned into a laugh. He smiled in return, and she loved him even more. She kissed him, and suddenly the mountain path didn't seem so ominous to her.

  Over the long journey, Aella felt faint whispers every now and then, but Erasmus kept her sane with his silent, comforting presence. When they finally set up camp on the plateau, she was feeling almost herself again. When they lit bonfires and starting chanting and dancing around the fire, her doubts fled. She was filled with energy again; she thought it must have been the fires.

  This was one of her favourite parts of the festival: The welcoming. They lit the bonfires, prayed to Sithares and offered tributes by burning them. They sang and danced, beating small but surprisingly loud drums, stomping their feet and chanting. Nothing made her feel closer to her tribe than this, and even Kerberos' fanatics were relaxed and smiling during the welcoming ceremony.

  There were never any fights on the day the tribe arrived at Sitharkos; not even sparring. They spent their time setting up camp, celebrating the beginning of the festival, and talking amongst themselves.

  She didn't realise it until she woke the next day, but from the moment the festival started, she completely stopped hearing the maddening, not-quite-there whispers in her head.

  The plateau was absolutely massive, fitting every member of Kerberos' tribe with enough space left for bonfires, fighting rings, and an area set aside for non-competitive sparring. The volcano's peak rose from one side of the plateau, only about twenty metres in height. There was already smoke drifting from it on the second day of the festival. When the sun rose that morning, the fighting started.

  Aella spent the first half of the day simply watching. Half a dozen warriors died while she watched; she noted the winners, and how they fought. The festival competitions didn’t require a death to win, but Thearans were intense and passionate, and usually the difference between sparring and competition was enough to push the warriors into blood-lust. It was why Aella didn't fight as often as most of the other warriors; she simply didn't feel the same urge to kill. She grew up a Thearan. Was, in fact, pure blooded Thearan; descended from Roxane of Theara, if her mother was correct. But still, there was something about her, and her mother for that matter, that was different to most Thearans. Her mother was always even-tempered. There was something serene about her, even during battle. Aella had inherited her calm, and while she loved the festival, she didn't feel the need to murder dozens of her fellow warriors simply to prove she was better than them. She knew she was better simply by watching them fight; but there was always more to learn by watching combat, even if the warriors were average. So she watched, and learned.

  After her midday meal, she joined in the fighting. She only fought a handful of warriors, just enough to show her devotion to Sithares. The fighting was as sacred as the welcoming ceremony, and as important as praying. Sithares required death and destruction to gain power, so combat was not only a natural part of the Thearan lifestyle, but a huge part of Sithares' festival. She beat every warrior she fought against, and though it wasn't surprising, she still felt satisfaction every time she won. She only killed the warriors who didn't give up until death; there were several victories where her opponent was smart or humble enough to concede defeat without giving up their life.

  One of the competitions Kerberos encouraged was a battle of pure Fire Magic; no weapons or physical combat was allowed. There were far fewer warriors powerful enough to compete, but the battles were much more intense and interesting to watch. Dakesh was fighting, along with most of Kerberos' fanatics, and Kerberos himself joined in every now and then, although few were stupid enough to challenge him. Aella watched these with great interest. She learned a lot about magic, and about Kerberos.

  Aella challenged Dakesh to normal combat after he
won the match he was fighting. She granted him time to rest, and they stood together watching a fight between Nomiki and a short Shenza man Aella didn't know. They were both quite good, though Nomiki was clearly the superior fighter. She let him believe they were evenly matched for a while, and Aella couldn't help but smile at the familiar ruse. Dakesh was fooled, which shocked Aella.

  "It seems an even battle," he said, "care to wager?"

  She stared at him, not sure if he was joking. When she realised he wasn't, she laughed and pulled a coin from a pouch on her belt.

  "Nomiki will win, a fool could see it!" she laughed, holding the coin so Dakesh could see it. He laughed too, though a little uneasily, and produced a coin to match Aella's.

  A few minutes later, after a ruthless kick to the Shenza's throat that sent him hurling to the ground unable to breathe, Dakesh begrudgingly tossed his coin to her. Then they both walked into one of the fighting rings together.

  She faced Dakesh. They both stood ready, weapons drawn. He gave her the odd look she remembered from his fight against Andreas, when he first joined their tribe, except now it was mixed with what looked like fear. In that moment, she hoped he wouldn't push her into killing him. She liked Dakesh. He was a good warrior, a good hunter, and a good friend. He took a few breaths, closing his eyes briefly. The sky around him grew darker, like a cloud had formed directly above him. She suddenly felt cold. Was this some kind of Shenza magic? She'd heard about the Shadow Magicians of the Shanaken forests, but surely Dakesh wasn't one of them; he never displayed any magical abilities other than practising Fire Magic. Then again, she thought, I'm hiding my own abilities from the entire tribe. She remembered how during battle he moved faster than he should have been able to. While hunting and walking, he moved in a way that suggested he was talented, but not very fast. But as soon he drew his sword -