The Flames of Arathia

by Jordan Liberatore

  She was back in her cell, hoping the pendant would be enough. The woman heard the clang of pounding footsteps in the hall. She pushed back her matted black hair, violet eyes staring out into the near darkness. Malkarri leaned against the bars of her cell, studying her. His silver flecked black hair matched his black eyes, red markings covering his ash colored skin. “They won’t make it,” Malkarri hissed. “He is captive, and the girl will never allow the others to continue. You have failed. I hope you can live with it.” As he spoke, the woman couldn’t help but be reminded of the perfect nature of his name. “Of curses.” It couldn’t be more fitting. He was a pathetic and corrupt excuse of power, the stench of dragon blood wine thick on his breath. He must have just come from another party with those Dark Elves of his, a perverted moral lacking version of their cousins.

  The woman couldn’t hide her smile. The pendant was in place. What could he do? She stood, walking to the bars. “All is as planned. He will be freed and the others have the gem. She knows well what it is. Avariana knows as well. The quest will be complete. I shall soon be freed,” Elliana spat, a fire in her eyes. Elliana the Great would not let this monster win. She was better than that. She knew her final prophecy would come to pass, bringing about the greatest era Arathia had ever seen. Malkarri may have had her captive, but that didn’t stop anything. The pieces were already in place, and Elliana knew that he would not win. The Chosen would rise, and the phoenix would be born again from the ashes. Elliana smiled. The game was far from over. The war was only just beginning.

  Malkarri laughed, walking away. Elliana sat back down, reflecting on it all. She saw the love and loss to come, the battles that would rise on the horizon. She sighed. In a way it was already over. Malkarri could do anything he wanted, but he couldn’t stop what was to come. The flames were about to burn everything, and Elliana couldn’t wait to watch the ashes fall.

  Chapter 5:

  Nathan sat numbly on the floor of his cell. How did he not see this coming? He let out a heavy sigh. He was an idiot, that was why. His cell opened, a little boy thrown in. He was crying. Nathan sighed, reaching out to him. “Hey, it’s okay,” Nathan tried to soothe. The boy looked up at him. “What’s your name?” Nathan asked.

  “Declan,” the boy muttered. Nathan slowly nodded.

  “I’m Nathan,” Nathan replied. “Come here. It’s going to be okay. Where are your parents?” Declan hesitated, crawling towards him.

  “I don’t have any,” Declan whimpered. Nathan frowned, holding the boy in his arms. His heart suddenly dropped. Declan. He’d heard that name before, and recently.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” Nathan inquired. Declan quickly shook his head.

  “They took me from the nice man,” Declan muttered. “The knight.” Nathan slowly nodded. So Declan was going to be trained as a knight.

  “How old are you, Declan?” Nathan asked. Declan looked up at him.

  “Almost four,” Declan replied. Nathan smiled. He hoped more than ever that Drusilla and Adam were on their way.

  Lu leaned back on the throne, now in a black dress. It felt good to be out of those ship clothes. She let out a heavy sigh. Everything was finally falling into place exactly how she wanted it. One of the Brethren stepped into the room. “The boy is secured,” he sighed. Lu smiled.

  “Good. And the knight?” Lu inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  “Dead, Eknar,” the Brethren confessed. “We killed him after the boy was taken.”

  “And he’s with the heir?” Lu asked. The Brethren nodded. “Good. Let them chat. It’ll keep the boy quiet anyways, having someone there.”

  “Of course, Eknar,” the man agreed. Lu smiled. The front door opened, a young man stepping in, clearly a knight.

  “Ma’am, I was called for,” the newcomer growled in a thick Southern Galdirrian accent.

  “Chester Croning?” Lu inquired. The man stiffly nodded. “Keep guard over Captain Nathan Rodrick and the boy, Declan Mace.”

  “His last name is Mace, Eknar?” the Brethren coughed.

  “Yes, and that is of no matter. Show Sir Croning out. Now,” Lu growled. The Brethren sighed, motioning for Chester to follow him.

  “Odd name, Chester,” the Brethren remarked.

  “Odd family,” Chester sighed. “What is the importance of the name Mace?”

  “Why does it matter?” the Brethren inquired.

  “I like to know who it is I’m keeping watch over,” Chester growled. The Brethren sighed, turning down to the dungeons.

  “It’s just rumors, but apparently the boy is the son of the Eknar’s brother,” the Brethren whispered. Chester raised an eyebrow.

  “I heard she killed her brother,” Chester remarked.

  “Aren’t you rather young to be a knight?” the Brethren inquired with a sigh. Chester smiled.

  “I’m twenty. At that age Queen Eya was already one of the best,” Chester argued.

  “I would be careful mentioning fireblood rulers around a Brethren,” the man growled, stopping at one of the cells. “Here we are. Do your job, and maybe I’ll just forget what you said.”

  Drusilla had just finished her story to Luther. “You’ve come a long way,” Luther sighed. Drusilla slowly nodded, thinking back on what she’d seen in Norto.

  “One of the Yulgarra, Luther,” Drusilla muttered, shaking her head. “I’m a descendant of Karret’s Mistake.” Luther smiled.

  “I pegged you for that a long time ago, and your father too. You both have that air to you,” Luther laughed.

  “It’s strange to finally meet him, you know,” Drusilla sighed.

  “Herto’s a good man, not like your typical pirate,” Luther remarked. “He saved me and Zerienne a while back.”

  “I think I met Zerienne a few times,” Drusilla mused. Luther nodded.

  “Never around me. I told her about you, filled her in on your progress, but she wasn’t in Galdirr when I was training you,” Luther explained.

  “The name sounds like she’s from Zathora,” Drusilla pointed out.

  “Good job, scholar,” Luther praised. “She is. Her father was from Galdirr, but mother was pure Zathoran.”

  “Tell me, Luther. Have you ever heard of Elliana the Great?” Drusilla inquired.

  “The Great Seer? Of course,” Luther sighed. “She disappeared a while ago, a few decades after the death of Latorro. Ever hear of the Red Gypsy and the Blue Sorcerer?”

  “Curiously yes,” Drusilla confirmed. Luther smiled.

  “Your mother,” Luther chuckled. “I looked into her. A great historian, Breena Kloy. Well, rumor has it that the sorcerer was Elliana’s son, and that he was looking for her with the Gypsy when they were in that inn. It was in Lokko, actually, same inn you met Nathan in.”

  “Coincidence is like that,” Drusilla sighed. Luther shook his head.

  “Fate. Coincidence doesn’t exist, not on the Beings,” Luther corrected. “Here’s the curious thing about Sorcerers, Drusilla. They’re few and far between, but damn near impossible to kill, and live a hell of a lot longer than us, though just short of Elves. That Blue Sorcerer is still alive and well.” Drusilla fell silent, Luther riding away towards his people as Adam joined her. She looked up at the stars.

  “That story you told me… It actually happened,” Drusilla muttered.

  “Of course,” Adam confirmed.

  “It was Annloe,” Drusilla pointed out. Adam didn’t say anything.

  “We don’t stop for the night. We keep going, and we’ll make to Anikarra tomorrow,” Adam explained.

  “So you’ll avoid what I said,” Drusilla sighed.

  “I keep hearing a lot about your mother, Sill. I was talking with Herto. Whatever stories she told you weren’t stories. They are history,” Adam confessed.

  “I was starting to get that feeling,” Drusilla winced. “I was thinking of trying to find her old notes, give them to Annloe. She was working on something when she died. I think she was compiling Arathia’s history.”
/>   “Annloe would love that. He gets bored on that island. It’ll give him something to do,” Adam agreed.

  “I just keep wondering how my father knew we needed ships and men,” Drusilla pointed out. Adam frowned.

  “Drusilla, I stopped asking those questions a long time ago. Sometimes, you’re better just not knowing,” Adam sighed. Drusilla smiled. “Would you ever meet him, your son?”

  “Once I wouldn’t, but now… I would want to tell him what kind of people his family was,” Drusilla mused.

  “Leaving out his aunt, I suppose,” Adam growled.

  “She’s betrayed us, Adam. More than that she manipulated and killed her own brother when he wouldn’t do her dirty work anymore. She’s one name I would love to erase from history,” Drusilla replied. Adam slowly nodded.

  “There was a day when I would fight against that, but now… I’ll supply some of the flames if you want,” Adam remarked. Drusilla raised a hand, letting her flames dance across her fingers.

  “It isn’t so bad. I used to fear it. I thought my mother died because of it. I wasn’t all that far off, I just didn’t realize what was behind it. I was the target. My mother jumped in the way. I think Malcolm dropped the dagger because something in him broke. He suddenly realized what this was costing him,” Drusilla confessed.

  “Annalie Karret. She was dragged into a war because a woman half insane, and half driven by grief wanted her dead. Her father killed the woman’s husband, the king, in a duel. It was fair, and just. The queen couldn’t handle it. Annalie lost her own husband and many of her friends all at the cost of being the first fireblood alongside her twin brother. My great grandmother was the Elven Queen at the time. She used to say that Annalie both loved and hated her gift because she realized what a great responsibility it was,” Adam explained. Drusilla looked at him.

  “Karret’s Mistake,” Drusilla breathed.

  “Was his own children,” Adam confirmed. “Annalie couldn’t fight for most of the war because she was pregnant, and she lost her husband in the final battle, the only battle she ever fought. Your dagger comes from that battle. It and the Fireblood Sword are the only blades left from that time. Annalie went on to be the first Queen of Galdirr.”

  “Mother used to talk about her,” Drusilla sighed. “She mentioned that Elven Queen too.”

  “Elvia was considered one of the greatest Queens. My mother looks up to her. She was the one who first suggested some Elves stay in Galdirr in exchange for her helping Annalie,” Adam replied. Drusilla smiled.

  “She seems smart,” Drusilla laughed.

  “Oh, very. My mother says I’m too much like her for my own good,” Adam winked. Drusilla rolled her eyes.

  “If by that you mean clever and charming, perhaps,” Drusilla agreed.

  “Oh Miss Kloy, you still have much to learn about me,” Adam teased, urging his horse a little faster. Drusilla just laughed, letting out a sigh before she went after him.

  Chapter 6:

  “Who are you?” Nathan demanded with a growl. The knight looked through the bars.

  “Sir Chester Croning, Knight of Galdirr,” Chester sighed.

  “You a Brethren?” Nathan inquired. Chester frowned, shaking his head.

  “Not on my life,” Chester assured. “You the fireblood heir?”

  “What if I am?” Nathan asked, swallowing hard. Declan was asleep in the corner of the cell.

  “My family has always supported your kind. We only got to Galdirr because of you,” Chester explained. “If you’re the heir… Is the Dinthlayi Amarca coming to pass?”

  “How do you know about that?” Nathan asked. Chester sighed.

  “My family has been protecting the royal line since the first Queen, Captain Rodrick. How do you think Prince Arlanto escaped?” Chester argued.

  “Honestly? I hadn’t really thought of it,” Nathan sighed. Chester chuckled.

  “According to the prophecy, shouldn’t there be two more of you?” Chester inquired. Nathan nodded.

  “We split up at the Isle of Serenity. They’ll be coming. I am sure of it,” Nathan assured. Chester smiled.

  “I guess I just have to keep you alive until then,” Chester sighed.

  “The boy too. Declan. His mother is one of them,” Nathan added. Chester nodded.

  “A friend of mine was going to train him as a knight. If she still wants that for him, I wouldn’t mind taking him in. The Croning line is dying out,” Chester explained.

  “Something tells me she won’t mind,” Nathan confessed.

  “What’s her name?” Chester asked.

  “Drusilla,” Nathan replied. “She’s a Free Strider.”

  “Well that explains why the boy’s here. Do you know who she was before Drusilla?” Chester inquired.

  “Melody Kloy,” Nathan sighed.

  “Daughter of Breena Kloy. I’ve met her, though it was a while ago. My father took me to Nathlo a few times to talk with her mother. We were just kids. She was stunning though,” Chester mused.

  “Still is,” Nathan assured.

  “Breena was a historian. She was gathering information on the royal line from my father. We Cronings keep a detailed history. Have to, seeing as most of us are adopted,” Chester remarked.

  “Croning. My father taught me some Galdirrian history. The name sounds familiar. First Hand?” Nathan asked. Chester nodded. “That explains it. He had a male lover.”

  “Doesn’t rightfully mean a thing, not with how Galdirr was created. My ancestor was a good man,” Chester argued.

  “A great one, if the stories are true,” Nathan agreed. Chester smiled.

  “I think we’ll be getting along just fine,” Chester sighed, leaning against the wall. “Just fine indeed.”

  “They’re riding for us,” Lu hissed. She grasped the arms of the throne tightly in her hands. “I should have known. Annloe gave them exactly what they needed.”

  “What do we do, Eknar?” her new second in command inquired.

  “Prepare the city. King Anikarra built this as a fortress. Have all of our men and any supporters at the ready,” Lu commanded.

  “For a few Free Striders, firebloods, and pirates?” another Brethren inquired. Lu glared at her.

  “It’s the Elven army that comes with my dear husband that I am concerned with,” Lu snapped. She stood. “Prepare me a bath. If we go to war, I need my rest.”

  “Of course, Eknar,” the second in command bowed, going to find the servants.

  “Is it good to see her again?” Zerienne inquired. Luther smiled.

  “Very much,” Luther sighed. “She’s become a better person than I thought she’d be.”

  “Oh, how so?” Zerienne asked.

  “Forgiving the man who tried to kill you at the orders of his insane sister takes a better person than I could even be,” Luther mused. Zerienne slowly nodded.

  “I could agree with that,” Zerienne sighed.

  “We fight by the evening,” Luther pointed out.

  “Very true,” Zerienne echoed. “And I fear some of us may die.”

  “I fear it more for myself, Zerienne. I can’t shake this feeling,” Luther confessed.

  “And you are not pressing me about Serapha?” Zerienne chuckled. Luther looked at her.

  “If I die, I feel the Beings would tell me what I need to know,” Luther assured.

  “So you believe the stories of the afterlife,” Zerienne sighed.

  “If we don’t have something to hold onto for after death, then what can we live for?” Luther argued. Zerienne simply nodded, not saying another word.

  “It begins at sun fall,” the Wise sighed, walking to the window with her head held high.

  “That it does,” Annloe agreed. “Is everything in place?”

  “For more than just this, Annloe. It’s just one piece in a larger game,” the Wise explained. Annloe smiled.

  “When is it not?” Annloe pointed out. The Wise laughed. “And you will still not tell me about the other half?�
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  “There is no need, Annloe,” the Wise sighed, turning to face him. She looked at the ground and then up at him. “When it arrives, it arrives. You know how these things work better than I.”

  “What of Viora?” Annloe inquired.

  “It has a few more decades of quiet before their silence is ended,” the Wise remarked. She walked to the fireplace. “That, I can tell you, you will be around for.”

  “A few decades?” Annloe laughed. “How could I not?” He sighed. “I haven’t asked. What of my mother?”

  “I can’t say anything. You know that,” the Wise reminded him. “I am given knowledge that I must protect. One wrong move, and I disrupt everything.”

  “I knew it was useless asking, but I had to anyways,” Annloe sighed. The Wise nodded.

  “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t. Not knowing is the worst feeling, but we all sacrifice something for the destinies we are given,” the Wise mused.

  “And of that you are not exempt,” Annloe pointed out, grabbing her hand. The Wise slowly nodded. It was something they had both learned from experience, the price of the things they wanted most. Everything had a cost, and they knew this battle would have its own. How could it not? It was destiny after all.

  Chapter 7:

  Day had come and gone, slipping into evening. The first chill breeze of fall nipped at the late August air. Drusilla, Herto, Luther, Adam, Lillian, Caleb, and Poyro were at the front of the army, staring down the walls of Anikarra as the sun touched the horizon. Watchtowers burned with manmade flames, Brethren standing in position. Atop the gate stood Lucinda Brightheart, the Eknar. Her cold gray eyes cut out in the light of the flames and dying sun from underneath the black of her cloak, hood pulled over her raven hair that swept around her shoulders. Her pursed lips were coated red like blood, her black dress billowing in the wind. She stared them down with the most evil glare she could muster.