Firebrand

by Prioleau, R. M.

  Firebrand

  by R.M. Prioleau

  *

  Book 1 of The Pyromancer Trilogy

  Firebrand

  © R.M. Prioleau.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover Art by Sarah Ellerton.

  Aransiya Map by R.M. Prioleau.

  Edited by Karen Allen.

  Visit the author's website at: www.rmprioleau.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any manner without the express written permission of the author. All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Aransiya Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  I

  The first rays of the morning sun coursed over the gates of Easthaven, promising another prosperous day in the trade city. Vendors and shoppers filled the streets, converging around the city’s extensive marketplace. It was often boasted that Easthaven’s marketplace attracted visitors from throughout the world to sample the rare and elusive goods. As a result, many used Easthaven as a hub for their travelers’ and mercantile wares.

  Kaijin stirred as the sunlight shone through his window and over his eyes. Hearing the outside bustle of the crowded streets, he lifted his face from his desk. Today not only marked the end of the week, it also marked Kaijin’s most favorite day of all—shopping day. He smiled groggily. Ever since he’d learned to read, he loved visiting the booksellers. He stretched his arms, rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes then stared down at the thick book before him. A circle of drool stained one page while the other page, where his face had been nestled, was crinkled, rendering the list of terminology almost unreadable. He rubbed his cheek, feeling multiple imprints of the page’s wrinkles in his tanned skin. He remembered what he had read before falling asleep—a book about magic. The arcane arts intrigued Kaijin, despite his struggles to understand the book’s complex symbols.

  Kaijin smoothed the page and scanned over the harder words, which he had circled. He recited sleepily, “Ab-ju-ra-tion ... Py-ro-man-cy ... So-mat-ic ...” He stopped abruptly when he heard his hungry belly make noises. Before getting up from his desk, Kaijin marked the page with a ribbon and placed the closed book in his haversack. Afterward, he washed his face, changed his clothes, grabbed the haversack, and hurried downstairs for breakfast. He found his mother stirring a small pot of porridge over a cooking fire.

  Kaijin ran up behind her and wrapped his arms around her wide waist in an excited embrace.

  His mother glanced down over her shoulder. “Oh! Good morning, dear.” She chuckled and rubbed his fiery-red hair. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

  “Mmm!” Kaijin simpered and gazed at his mother’s protruding belly. Nearing thirty-two weeks, she sported the roundness of a healthy third trimester. The mysteries of creating new life through childbirth had been an unfamiliar, yet exciting fascination for Kaijin, who reached out and touched his mother’s belly in hopes of feeling the baby move.

  She watched briefly before placing her hand on his. “You’re going to be a big brother soon, Kaijin.”

  He puffed out his chest. “I’ll be the best big brother, Mama!”

  She kissed the crown of his head. “I know you will, dear.”

  The back door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps. His father, a tall man with thick red hair, entered the kitchen carrying an armful of sturdy, overflowing canvas bags. He greeted his wife and son with a smile before setting down the load. Bolts of cloth spilled from the top of one bag.

  Curious, Kaijin skipped over to see what else the bags contained. He reached out to touch the cloth, and his father slapped his hand away.

  “Hands off, boy.” Ramon glowered at Kaijin. “Go help your mother with breakfast.”

  “Yes, Papa ...” Pouting, Kaijin returned to his mother’s side and watched her add some cinnamon to the porridge mix.

  “You’re a good boy, Kaijin.” She smiled reassuringly. “So helpful.” She offered him a small taste of hot porridge from her spoon.

  Kaijin savored the sweetened sample and beamed. It was just how he liked it—mixed thick with slices of apple. The porridge melted on the tip of his tongue, leaving a hinting aftertaste of cinnamon and ginger.

  His mother resumed cooking and acknowledged her husband. “Ramon, dear, you’re back earlier than usual. Are there no new prospects in the marketplace today?”

  “On the contrary.” Ramon smirked. “I think it’s going to be a good day for business.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear. Just ... stay away from the silk dealers this time, please.” She made a face. “Last week, they nearly cleaned your purse with their boorish scandals.”

  Ramon rolled his eyes. “Stop reminding me, Elianee. Besides, you’re always so critical of the Ankhram traders. Not all of them are bad, you know.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge just because you don’t see eye-to-eye with a few of your relatives.”

  “They’re just upset because I married you.” Elianee mirrored his smirk. Like characters in books Kaijin had read, and the few stories she’d told him, his mother had all the features of a woman descended from the desert people: a tall, lean frame; soft, bronze skin; long, thick ebony hair; and matching ebony eyes that complemented her angular face.

  “And I say, ‘they can all shove off.’” Ramon approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her taut belly and massaging it soothingly with his thumbs. He glanced down at Kaijin.

  Kaijin briefly locked eyes on his father before fixing them on the wooden spoon making figure eights in the porridge.

  Elianee stifled a laugh and began spooning the porridge into three bowls.

  “That goes for you too, boy,” Ramon said. “Tell anyone who ‘disapproves’ of you marrying a beautiful girl to ‘shove off!’”

  Kaijin snapped out of his trance and regarded his father, eyes widened in fear at the man’s sharp tone.

  “Ramon!” Elianee elbowed him playfully in his ribs. She set the full bowls on a small tray, placed a spoon in each bowl, and handed the tray to Kaijin. “Your father is only jesting, Kaijin. Now, be a good boy and put this on the table.”

  “Yes, Mama!” The smell of the steaming-hot porridge filled Kaijin’s nose as he carefully walked to the table, tray in hand. After putting the tray on the table, he glanced back at his parents, proud that he did not spill a single drop.

  But his parents didn’t appear to notice his accomplishment. Ramon turned and caressed the back of Elianee’s neck with a gentle kiss. “Enough of that talk. How are you faring?”

  Elianee blushed. She retrieved a pan of hot bread from the oven, took a knife, and began cutting the loaf into small slices. “I am well, dear.” She playfully fed Ramon a slice. “You know, your son has been waiting for you to take him to the marketplace.” She peered over her shoulder at the kitchen table and raised her voice a bit more. “I’m sure he would love to see some of the new vendors. Wouldn’t you, Kaijin?”

  Kaijin quivered with joy. He met his mother’s gaze.
r />   She winked at him in response.

  Beaming, Kaijin ran to his father and tugged at his tunic. “Can we go now, Papa? Please? Please? I want to see the new book vendors! Please, can we go now?”

  Ramon bellowed in laughter and ruffled Kaijin’s already messy hair. “After breakfast, son. Now, take a seat.”

  Kaijin’s shoulders dropped, but he obeyed his father and slid into his usual spot at the kitchen table. His mind raced.

  Ramon helped Elianee to the table. “Always with them damned books,” he said. “By the gods, Kaijin, you are the strangest child!”

  Kaijin dipped his spoon in the cooled porridge and stared at his father.

  “He’s going to be a great scholar someday.” Elianee nodded firmly to Ramon. She looked at Kaijin. “You keep on reading and pay your father no mind.”

  Ramon huffed. “He keeps that up, and he’s going to end up like the rest of your pompous relatives.”

  “Ramon!” Elianee tried to hide her smile.

  He laughed and ate a mouthful of porridge.

  Kaijin joined in his father’s laughter, though he was unsure of what the man found so amusing.

  After wolfing down the rest of his breakfast, Kaijin sat back in his chair and rubbed his full belly in the same way he’d witnessed his father do after every meal. His parents’ voices gradually faded from his ears as they discussed uninteresting adult issues.

  Kaijin’s attention drifted to a burning candle in the center of the table. He studied the transitioning orange and blue hues of the small, flickering fire before slowly reaching out to run his fingers over it. He smiled, as he watched the dancing flame ripple in response to the faint shift in the air caused by his approaching hand.

  I’ll be able to feel the pretty fire this time.

  The candle’s heat was inviting. The single flutter of the flame enticed Kaijin, and his mind drifted into fantasies.

  Kaijin sunk his teeth into his bottom lip in anticipation. Just a little closer, and—

  “Kaijin! Don’t do that!”

  His mother’s frantic voice snapped Kaijin out of his trance. He felt her slap his hand away from the flame, followed by a stinging pain.

  Kaijin pouted and whined, “But, Mama—!” His words were cut short when he met his father’s gaze, prompting him to sit back in his chair. He lowered his head and stared into his lap, fidgeting with his hands.

  Ramon shook his head. “You’re getting stranger each day, boy. What in the bloody hells have you been reading now?”

  Kaijin regarded his father with hesitation.

  “We shouldn’t discourage Kaijin from reading, dear,” Elianee said. “The gods have blessed us with a child brighter than most children his age. Let us be thankful for that.”

  Ramon scoffed. “Books won’t teach him common sense—like not sticking his hand in a flame.”

  She paused and sighed heavily. “Yes, perhaps you’re right.” She cast a stern gaze at Kaijin. “Fire is dangerous, Kaijin. Don’t ever try to touch it again, do you understand?”

  Kaijin nodded faintly at his mother. “Yes, Mama ...”

  Elianee sighed again. “Thank you, dear.” She stood up and cleared away the dishes.

  “Let him learn the hard way, Elianee.” Ramon rose from his chair and gathered his bags. “The boy’s only five years old. If he plays with fire, he will eventually get burned—plain and simple. He won’t do it again after that, I assure you.”

  After his father stood up, Kaijin followed suit and slung his haversack across his shoulders. He double-checked his belt from which a small coin purse hung and jingled with the ten copper pieces his father had given him the day before. He opened the small leather satchel and began to count the money again but stopped in mid-count when he heard his father’s footsteps head for the front door. After quickly re-securing the satchel with a string, Kaijin followed him out of the house.

  Kaijin was in heaven. The market district stretched for half a mile in length and appeared to be at least as wide. Hundreds of booths spanned the strip with many of the newer vendors setting up shop near the city’s main gates. With little room to walk in the crowded thoroughfare, Ramon grabbed Kaijin’s hand and kept him close. They traversed the marketplace while Kaijin’s eyes darted about in search for a new book vendor to visit. To his disappointment, their walk halted when Ramon visited a pottery booth and engaged the vendor in light conversation about trading. Kaijin sighed and watched the passersby while the two adults talked, their voices drowned by the marketplace bustle.

  Across the street, a small banner branded with a bright, colorful Dragon caught Kaijin’s eye. The banner hung from a colorful tent filled with piles of books and scrolls stacked haphazardly on a table.

  Beaming, Kaijin tugged his father’s hand. “Papa! Papa! Look! That place sells books! Please, can we go see the book vendor? Please? Please?”

  Stopping mid-conversation, Ramon glowered at him. “One moment, Kaijin. I’m doing business here. You know better than to interrupt two adults talking, boy.”

  Kaijin deflated. His eyes turned away from the adults and back to the book vendor’s table where he saw a crowd gathering. Soon, the cluster of people concealed the vendor’s booth. Kaijin gritted his teeth and shook his clenched fists, unable to control his bubbling excitement.

  So many books. So many—

  Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, Kaijin glanced sidelong at his father and waited until his back was turned before slinking closer to the book vendor. He maneuvered through the tight crowd until he arrived at the table. Grinning, Kaijin rummaged through the piles of books, hoping to discover the rarest of treasures.

  After tending to a customer, the book vendor scrutinized Kaijin. “Looking for something in particular, lad?” The man chuckled.

  Kaijin, startled by the closeness of the voice, addressed the brown-robed man standing before him. “Ah, I j–just want to find a book.”

  The vendor chuckled again. “Well, as you can see, I’ve plenty of books. What do you like to read?”

  “I–I like all sorts of books.” Kaijin reached into his haversack and pulled out his weathered book with arcanic symbols and runes on the cover. “I’m almost finished reading this one.”

  The vendor arched an eyebrow. “Do you understand those symbols?”

  “No ... I–I wish I did ... but, um, the rest of the book isn’t written like that ... Well, some parts are, but I just skipped over them ... It’s, uh, a good book, though.”

  He studied Kaijin briefly, then smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Kaijin, sir ... Kaijin Sora.”

  The vendor nodded, turned, and rummaged through another stack of books. “That book you are holding, Kaijin, is about magic.” He retrieved a thick tome from the bottom of the stack. “If you are interested in such a subject, perhaps you might find this compendium useful—it will teach you how to read those symbols.”

  Kaijin pored over the new, hardbound tome secured with a leather tie. “R–really?! Yes! I want to learn how to read them! I want to read more about magic!” He fumbled in his coin purse and offered the vendor a handful of copper pieces.

  The vendor took the money, counted it briefly and smirked. “Six copper pieces? This is far more than the book’s actual—” He paused and cleared his throat. “That is—perhaps you may be interested in this one as well, lad.” He offered a thicker, more weathered tome. “It explains the different deities of Exodus and how they relate to magic. I will give you this book for free because I ... like that eagerness in your eyes.”

  Kaijin beamed and snatched the book. “Th–thank you, sir!” After stuffing the books into his haversack, he knelt down and skimmed through a stack of books beside the table.

  He was engrossed in his search when he felt someone bump past him. Startled, Kaijin gazed up at an older man, clean-shaven, well-groomed and dressed in flamboyant nobles’ robes.

  The stranger didn’t appear to notice Kaijin—or perhaps he had and simply consid
ered him insignificant. The man silently perused the selection of books on the table for several minutes.

  The vendor studied the newcomer, his slate-grey eyes narrowing. “May I ... help you, sir?”

  The stranger’s dark eyes rose to meet the vendor’s, and he smiled. “Jarial Glace. What a pleasant surprise.”

  Kaijin observed the exchange in silence.

  Jarial frowned. “I don’t know how you found me, but I suggest you leave. Now. I’ve more important things—like actual customers—to tend to.”

  “You mean this boy?” The nobleman scoffed, raising his nose at Kaijin. “Surely, you would rather hear about my amazing discovery, instead. Yes?”

  Jarial peered over the table at Kaijin, whose fearful eyes met his. “No, Xavorin, I would not,” he replied, regarding the nobleman again. “I am giving you one last chance to leave before I call the guards.”

  Xavorin huffed and backed away from the table. “Fine, I will leave. But I wanted to have the pleasure of telling you, personally, that you were wrong. About everything. I’ve gained a deeper understanding of the Art by tapping into the unknown strands of the Threads of magic. People like you, who have held me back from my true potential time and again, are blind to the truth. By now, I’m certain my skills have exceeded even yours.”

  Jarial’s face flushed, and he looked daggers at the noble. “Enjoy your ‘newfound discovery’ while you can, Xavorin,” he hissed, a small crackle of electrical energy emanating from his slate-grey eyes. “It will slowly consume your soul until you are nothing more than a corpse—and quite fitting, I might add, for someone who betrayed me. Now leave, and do not speak to me again.”

  The crowd around Jarial’s booth began to scatter as tension rose between the two men. The annoyed tone in Jarial’s voice startled Kaijin, who, when he tried to stand, bumped his head under the table.