The Flames of Arathia

by Jordan Liberatore

  “Why should I give up home?” Drusilla questioned, raising an eyebrow. She forced Lu off of her, pushing past. When she reached the doorway, she quickly looked back at Lu who was seething with rage. Lu clearly wanted Drusilla dead. Sill saw that now. She also understood something. This ship… it’d become the first home Drusilla had had in four years. It had become something greater than she understood, and Nathan and Adam had the potential to become something more as well. And there was no way in hell Drusilla was going to let that go.

  Chapter 16:

  Already at Tiarta’s dock was Herto’s ship. Drusilla had half a mind to actually go see Poyro. For now Drusilla took in the island. It was smaller and rocky, with a few inns, pubs, and other buildings. It even had a few stores. It was a place to relax and breathe, a perfect place for a momentary break. Leaving the others, Drusilla went into one of the pubs to find Poyro. He was sitting at the bar, just staring at the crowd. “Fancy seeing you here,” Drusilla sighed, sitting next to him. Poyro looked over with a smile.

  “Hello, sister,” Poyro greeted as a waitress came over and took Drusilla’s order of some fish and buttersip. “Did you complete what you were doing?” There in the light Drusilla realized just how much the man looked like their father. In a strange way it was comforting.

  “I did do so, surprisingly,” Drusilla sighed in confirmation. Poyro slowly nodded.

  “I’d be cautious of that Nathan Rodrick. He’s been out on the ocean waters for a while. I think his family was burned along with his village,” Poyro warned, his voice dropping just above a whisper as he leaned in towards Drusilla. “He’s a fireblood, same as a few others I believe we both know.”

  “So I know, brother. I have seen what Nathan can do. I believe Lu’s more to fear,” Drusilla remarked.

  “I’d fear her, too. Lucinda’s her real name. I hear rumor that she is a Mace,” Poyro explained. Drusilla tensed.

  “And?” Drusilla pushed. Poyro looked around the room cautiously.

  “There are… There are rumors about the Mace family. A known Brethren, Malcolm, is a Mace, the eldest. They say the daughter of the family is also a Brethren. In fact,” he paused, looked around again as he leaned right next to Drusilla’s ear. “In fact they say that Lucinda Mace is the Eknar herself.” Drusilla felt her body go numb and cold. Everything that had been said… It couldn’t be…

  “A-Are you sure?” Drusilla coughed. Poyro raised an eyebrow.

  “You act shocked,” Poyro pointed out.

  “Malcolm… He’s admitted he became a Brethren because of someone he cared for. If what you say on Lu is true… Beings above,” Drusilla breathed. Poyro leaned back.

  “As I said… Be careful,” Poyro warned again. Drusilla softly nodded as her food was brought out. What had she gotten herself into?

  Later that evening Drusilla sat down on a bed in one of the inns. She held her father’s letter in her hands. It was the first chance she had to read it. With a shaking hand she traced the word “Melody” written on its surface. It seemed strange to have someone she had only met in the last four years call her by that name. It was so foreign. Taking a deep breath she opened the thing and read its contents:

  “My daughter,

  “I am sorry to say I had no idea that you ever existed. I cannot take back that past, my love. I cannot make any of this hurt less than it does. However, I can shed light on some of the things that happened. When I first met your mother, that dear Breena, I loved her. In fact, I could never see myself living without her. It took me days to finally talk to her. We were married young. I was nigh of 20 and your mother a year behind. It was about that time that I began to drink. It was never anything I meant to do.

  “Your mother never deserved that. She was brilliant, more than anyone the village had ever seen. She was gorgeous and kind hearted, certainly not anywhere near low enough for one such as myself. She loved the world and what it once was, back when things were actually well off, not that any of us are old enough to know it. It ate her, knowing I was out every night from dusk ‘till dawn without a care. Then I dragged myself into gambling away all we had. It was wrong, and your mother hated me for it.

  “We’d been married nigh on five years when she finally pushed me out. We argued for days on end, but that night was something else. She knew her reputation was at hand. I couldn’t stop and she had to think of herself. She always knew what was best, that Breena. Looking back it was good I left. I stopped the gambling and became a pirate instead. Your great uncle, my father’s brother, took me in. Taught me well, Roe did. He was always looking after that sea. He looked after me like I was it too.

  “That’s the story, love. I can’t explain myself any other way. I’m sorry, you know, for what I did. I wish I could tell that mother of yours that. She’d forgive me, but I can’t ever ask you the same. The least I could ask is that you understand this is what happened. I don’t know if it will be helpful, but that’s all I got.

  Love, Herto, your father.”

  Drusilla let the paper fall onto her lap. She felt so numb. There it was. There was the entire story in front of her, everything she could have ever wanted to ask her mother had she had the chance. She glanced at the bottom of the page. “P.S. Your mother was also a fireblood,” it read. That stood out. The word “also” really hit at Drusilla. Both her parents were firebloods. That… That was new information. That changed what Drusilla thought. She was always meant to be a fireblood. It was her destiny, her birthright on both sides. Drusilla leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  How much of this did Malcolm know? Drusilla sighed. “Lu’s brother,” Drusilla breathed, shaking her head. She knew the two looked alike, but this? The Beings were playing quite a game with her. Drusilla held up a hand, watching a flame dance across her fingers. Everything was changing. Drusilla saw that now. Something in her was stirring, waking up. Now… Now it was time to dive all in.

  The Eknar sat upon her chair, the head of a long table of oak in an “abandoned” home on the island of Tiarta. Her fellow Brethren sat around her, cautiously staring at her. Through the light of the candles, all that could be told of her was that she wore a black cloak that hooded her face. Piercing grey eyes, much like her brother’s, watched the room, gazing ever so anger filled at the only empty chair in the musky room. Her dark red lips frowned in an angry disappointment. She was not pleased, and a flame of death figured in her eyes. It was clear what her intentions were: to kill without mercy.

  The door opened suddenly, a soft rain wisped onto the floor from the outside. In walked a hooded figure, clearly the missing Brethren. Malcolm pulled off his hood. His clothes were stained with a crimson red, cloth tightly wrapped around his ribs, now turned crimson with blood. His black hair that crowned him was wet and hung in his grey eyes, and his skin was deathly pale. He needed medical attention. The Eknar stood quickly, her chair dragged back against the wooden floor. “She is still alive, brother!” she growled angrily. “You swore to me that she was dead.” Malcolm kneeled on the ground, about to go against the woman he had worked so hard to please for most of his life.

  “Ah yes, Mistress, she is,” Malcolm growled. He stood. “Consider this my resignation.”

  “What the hell is this?” the Eknar hissed, slowly standing. “Resignation? The Brethren are for life, brother, need I remind you…”

  “I would rather stand with her than with you. I have a son. I have a chance at a better life and I would do anything to fight for it,” Malcolm argued. The Eknar laughed viciously.

  “Like I would let you walk out of here with your life,” the Eknar growled. She grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer. “I am so tired of your rebellion. The Prophecy calls for three. You let three live. You fall in love with that bitch and bear a bastard son. Now you ask to leave. The Brethren are for life. Consider this your resignation.” She drove her knife right into his chest. His eyes widened as he gasped for breath. He stumbled back, falling onto his knees.

  “You
r own… Your own brother,” Malcolm breathed. He coughed out blood, falling over as Malcolm Mace breathed his last.

  Part 2: Fireblood

  Chapter 1:

  Drusilla sat numbly down in the inn’s main room. Nathan had already gone to the ship, and Lu as well. It was Adam who brought her the news. “They found him at sunrise,” Adam told her. Drusilla put a shaking hand over her mouth as she shook her head.

  “No… Beings above no… Not him,” Drusilla muttered, tears forming in her eyes. Adam pulled her into his arms as she began to sob.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Adam breathed, rubbing her back.

  “I… I loved him. Adam, I just got him back. I can’t… No, please,” Drusilla cried, burying her face in his shirt. Adam just held her tight.

  “I’ll be here for you as long as you need me,” Adam assured. He sighed. “Nathan wants us back at the ship. He wants to talk to you.” Drusilla pulled back frowning. They hadn’t talked since the temple. She knew this would not be a decent conversation. Her heart aching, she’d have to push through.

  “I’ll go. Could you… Could you get Malcolm’s things? I would like to have them,” Drusilla inquired. Adam stiffly nodded, leaving to comply. Drusilla took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to grieve. It was the time to go forward and see this all through.

  “Sit down, Drusilla,” Nathan ordered sternly, sitting at his desk. They had just left Tiarta after having acquired Malcolm’s things. The woman just stood, her dirty brown hair hanging over her blue eyes that showed signs of crying. Nathan would have had so much sympathy for her were circumstances different. But they weren’t, and Nathan was losing his patience. Thus he just continued on. “You should have told me what you were,” Nathan growled. Drusilla finally complied, sitting down slowly as she glared at him with a calculating gaze. Waiting for a response, Nathan looked over at the bear on his desk. It had been Alyssa’s. Next to it was a drawing of the girl done later on in Nathan’s own hand. They were the remnants of Nathan’s past.

  “I was told that I wouldn’t have to give out any information of myself,” Drusilla hissed.

  “That was true, but we told you of what we were and so you should have told me,” Nathan sighed. “I understand about your mother and Malcolm though. I mean, after you heard my story… I am sorry, by the way, for your loss.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Drusilla muttered, looking down.

  “Tell me… you could have left. Why didn’t you?” Nathan inquired. That was what he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at the temple, and he certainly didn’t understand now.

  “I haven’t been paid, first of all, and second of all there was something that occurred at the temple that changed my views,” Drusilla replied. Nathan leaned back. He could tell she was hiding something.

  “What was it that occurred?” Nathan asked. Drusilla frowned.

  “Why should I tell you?” Drusilla countered.

  “If you plan on staying on this ship, a level of openness is expected, not just hard work,” Nathan explained. “However I will let you keep some secrets. We all do.” He couldn’t help but think of some of the secrets he held. His own… and Adam’s.

  “If you must know, then I shall tell. When that burst of energy came, time froze. Queen Avariana came to me, almost like a vision, and told me to grab the gem and that it was my destiny to complete some quest with you,” Drusilla growled. Nathan leaned back in shock. Why would the Elven Queen reveal herself to Drusilla and not him? It made no sense. He was of Yulgarra blood. He was the heir to the Galdirrian throne, not her. Still, he had to fight down his jealousy. Avariana knew what she was doing. She always had a reason no matter what.

  “It is rare indeed that the Elven Lady speak with anyone outside of her own people. You should be honored,” Nathan remarked calmly. He slowly nodded. “I see now why you wish to go to see Annloe. The Dinthlayi Amarca, or the Fireblood Prophecy in our tongue, is a complex thing that few know and even fewer understand.”

  “Who is Annloe?” Drusilla inquired, crossing her arms. She was strong willed, reminding him of his sweet Flower. He understood, though, that it probably had something to do with being the daughter of a pirate such as Herto Blackwright. That was another thing Nathan still had an issue with. Still, it seemed that Drusilla didn’t even know about Herto until now. She’d have to be forgiven on that one. She was also trying to work through it. He’d seen her talking with the pirate’s right hand man as he tried to pick up pieces of news. Galdirr seemed tense, as though waiting for something. The other Free Striders were rumored to have even called a council.

  “He is a great sorcerer who lives alone on the Island of Serenity. He may be the only living being who knows and understands in full the Dinthlayi Amarca. As you can guess, the name for the Prophecy comes from the Elvish language. Few in Galdirr know it,” Nathan sighed. He only even knew the language thanks to his Flower’s father. He’d been raised to know the words. Drusilla raised an eyebrow.

  “Is that the language you and Adam speak?” Drusilla inquired.

  “Yes,” Nathan confirmed with a heavy sigh. “And there are many reasons as to why we know it. However, that is the secret Adam wishes to keep, and so I shall not tell you as to why we speak the Old Tongue.” Drusilla slowly nodded, taking in his words. “You may go, Drusilla. Please, if you would, tell Adam to come down.” With that Drusilla stood, leaving as Nathan carefully watched her lost in thought. He knew he cared for her, but wasn’t as strongly as he cared for his Flower. He longed to see her smiling face once more. More than that, he longed for all that he had lost, all that was now in ashes. He missed the soft springs and sweet summers, and the chilly autumns followed by the more solemn winters.

  He missed the sound of music swelling in the streets, and the smell of distant flowers. The lack of them all created a numb sort of agony that filled his soul, like he had somehow died there with the flames and was only a shell now. Nathan always longed for a life at sea, though now that he had it he hated it. He wished it would leave him alone, and let him have all that he used to. Maybe he’d try and fix things after the task at hand was complete. Maybe he could finally settle down and slip back into the country instead of constantly being on the run.

  Nathan couldn’t deny he felt sorry for Drusilla. He thought of it with a heavy sigh. He knew what loss she was feeling. It didn’t take a wise man to see how much she loved him. It was too easy to realize. She didn’t just love him. She needed him. And now he was dead. Now… Now she was left with the pain of loss. Nathan clenched his fist. It only reminded him of his own wounds. He looked over at the bear again. He lost too much that night. Malcolm deserved what he got. Or did he? He was only working to please another. As much as Nathan hated to admit it, that had to stand for something. Didn’t it? Something told him that he would never really know.

  The Queen glanced at the body before her, her mouth running dry. Too long had it been since she’d last seen him and now here he was… Dead. “Your Highness, I am sorry for bringing this to you,” the older man remarked. She turned to him.

  “We had grown distant. There is only sorrow for my son when he learns,” the Queen pointed out. The man bowed.

  “They will be on their way,” the man sighed. The Queen slowly nodded.

  “Yes, I would hope so, considering I sent them,” the Queen cooed. The man nodded, walking up to her. He looked over her slender shoulder at the body.

  “You lay him out as a king. I am surprised that your people do not argue,” the man muttered.

  “He was still my husband. He will be buried as so. That is only fair,” the Queen sighed. She looked to him. “Lead them. She will not be well, not fully. The loss will have hit her hard, I am sure.”

  “Of course,” the man obliged. “My Queen, have thee any word on she who has been missing?”

  “I fear not. Though we await any word,” the Queen mused. She looked at the ground. “These are dark times. We will need quite a flame such as she
had to light the way.” The man smiled softly.

  “In times of doubt and darkness, when all hope seems lost, it seems we must make our own light and fight our own way to wisdom,” the man remarked with a quick wink before leaving the dark chamber.

  Drusilla returned to her room on The Star’s Flight. There on the bed was Malcolm’s cloak. She’d have to wash the blood out. It was strange. There was once a time when she feared that cloak and what it meant. Now it was her only comfort with him gone. She looked at the sword beside it. Why was she even keeping any of this? Somewhere deep down she knew though. She had to keep him close. She loved him and she wouldn’t let him be forgotten. He would do the same for her. She picked up the letter on the bed. It was unopened. She hesitated, but read on. It was from a servant. Declan had been taken in as an orphan to one day be a squire. He would have a good life.

  “Oh Declan, what world have I brought you into?” Drusilla sighed.

  “Who’s Declan?” Lu asked with a growl. Drusilla turned to see the woman leaning in the doorway.

  “None of your damn business,” Drusilla hissed.

  “If you have a son with Malcolm, it might be,” Lu taunted. Drusilla rolled her eyes.

  “I heard a very interesting rumor, Lu. Some say your maiden name is Mace. It’s funny though. Malcolm did speak of a sister who would be about your age,” Drusilla remarked. Lu scowled at her.

  “Careful, Free Strider. Curiosity killed the cat,” Lu warned. She stormed away.

  “But maybe it saved this one,” Drusilla muttered, quickly deciding to get changed before Lu decided to bother her again.

  Chapter 2:

  Nathan quickly wiped away a tear as a knock came at the door. It could only be Adam so instead of speaking in English and using “Enter,” he told the man, “Entailan.” Adam walked in, that childish spark lighting his eyes. The two had known each other for eleven years, just over a full decade. Adam had worked for Sefton, Nathan’s father, until that fateful day. In the morning hours, long before the flames, Adam had left to make his own fortune. It was only four years ago that Adam and Nathan had reunited. Nathan still remembered that day clearly.