Firebrand

by Prioleau, R. M.

  Kaijin pondered. There were so many answers to such a simple question. What he truly found fascinating about the element was unexplainable. Kaijin lifted his gaze to the man, offered a small shrug and said, “It’s pretty.”

  Jarial snorted. “Come, now, boy. Don’t play me for a fool. We’ll be here all night, if we must. Spare me no details.”

  Kaijin sighed and inspected his injured fingers, reminiscing on past experiences. “I—I don’t know, Master. There’s something about the fire that—that makes me want to try and touch it. I like the way it looks when it burns... All those colors ... I want to try holding it in my hand because it’s so beautiful.”

  Jarial lifted a brow.

  “Mama and Papa didn’t like it when I played with fire, so they took all the candles from my room.” Kaijin bit his bottom lip. “The blue fire is ... is so pretty, Master...” Reminiscing on the burning pot in the study raised goose bumps all over his body, and he shivered. The sensation he felt was stronger than ever. He squirmed in his chair and gazed up at Jarial pleadingly. “Master, I–I feel—”

  * * *

  Jarial observed Kaijin. He knew that look in the boy’s eyes all too well. That desire—that passion—that incitement. Gods, he’s too young to be dealing with this, isn’t he? Jarial rubbed his temples, trying to decide the best course of action.

  “M–Master?”

  “See here, boy.” Jarial hardened his gaze. “I believe your parents neglected to ... educate you about a few things. I really don’t feel like talking to you about certain details right now; perhaps later tonight—or tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow sounds good.”

  Kaijin tilted his head.

  Jarial cleared his throat. “I can certainly see that you are, without a doubt, obsessed with this.”

  “I’m ... strange, aren’t I, Master?” Kaijin’s excitement was quickly replaced with frustration—grief. “Papa says I’m strange because I play with fire.”

  Jarial sighed. “To be perfectly honest, Kaijin, no, you’re not strange. Especially not one like yourself who has an affinity for the arcane arts. Most arcanists have some sort of unique desire that brings them happiness. Yours just happens to be fire.”

  Kaijin pondered a moment. “What makes you happy, Master?”

  Jarial regarded the boy curiously. Though he hadn’t expected that question, he managed to give it a prompt reply. “I like colorful things.”

  “Colorful? Like a rainbow?”

  “Not quite that broad, lad.” Jarial chuckled.

  “Why do you like colorful things?”

  “Colors are infinite and have a powerful influence on the mind.”

  Kaijin opened his mouth to reply, but simply nodded, instead. Confusion spread all over his face.

  “If you don’t like colorful things, then you will not understand.”

  “But I do like them, Master.”

  “Not as much as you like fire.”

  Kaijin’s expression fell. “Are you going to stop me from playing with fire, too?”

  “That all depends. I could, perhaps, teach you how to apply this ‘passion’ of yours to your advanced studies, but that will come in time.” Jarial propped his elbows on the table, rested his chin on his folded hands, and studied the boy carefully. “Tell me what else you find so intriguing about fire.”

  Kaijin fidgeted with his injured hand again, a hint of excitement returning to the boy’s eyes. “Well, sometimes when I look at fire, I try to find the god who lives inside of it. He’s made of fire, too, you know.”

  “God?” Jarial arched an eyebrow.

  “Yes, I read about a god made of fire from the book you gave me a long time ago. I really want to see Him, so sometimes I look at fire really hard.”

  Jarial recalled their encounter in the marketplace and nodded. “Ah, you speak of Ignis, the Firelord, yes?”

  “Yes! That’s Him. Do you know about the Firelord, Master? Have you ever seen Him?” Kaijin’s face brightened with anticipation.

  “No, I’ve never seen Him, aside from various depictions in books. I’ve only general knowledge about Ignis for the purposes of my own studies. If the subject interests you that much, you will need to find that information on your own. After all, Ignis is not the only god of this world.”

  “Do you know about the other gods as well, Master?”

  “I know as much as my studies require. It would benefit you to familiarize yourself with all of the other gods. Though, I’ve a little more knowledge of Celestra, to whom I offer my first prayers.”

  “Celestra? I know Her. She made the world.”

  “Indeed, She did.” Jarial slid his chin off his folded hands to hide his smile. “We will continue this discussion later tonight. In the meantime, you are dismissed. Focus more on finishing your assignment and less on sating your ... passions.”

  Kaijin nodded and rose from his seat, offering Jarial a grateful smile. “All right, Master. Thank you.”

  As Jarial watched Kaijin leave, a newfound fascination for the boy overtook his mind. He wondered what new mysteries the coming days would bring.

  III

  The boys grew more accustomed to their new life as the weeks passed. Kaijin’s rapid progress surpassed Jarial’s expectations, and before long, the boy was learning to scribe his first cantrip. Kaijin sat alone in the attic, deep in concentration. He felt sweat beading across his brow as he drew each individual arcanic rune with slow and careful precision.

  “A spell requires absolute perfection,” Jarial had once told Kaijin. “Even the slightest mistake in a rune will render the spell useless.”

  It was difficult for Kaijin to maintain a steady hand as the day drew on. His eyes burned. The mixed smell of fresh ink and parchment filled his nose.

  “Stroke once, curl twice, don’t forget the accent,” he whispered. “Angular cut around the edge, stroke through to finish.”

  * * *

  While Kaijin was locked away in the attic, Rorick remained in the study with Jarial, reviewing his definitions. Unlike Kaijin, Rorick’s progress was sluggish. Five hundred words, did, indeed, seem challenging for Rorick to retain, but to his relief, Jarial remained patient with him. Jarial must have realized how frustrated and discouraged Rorick had been watching Kaijin’s rapid progress, because he allocated extra time and attention for him.

  “Now, let’s review again. If a spell requires a somatic component, what does that mean?”

  “So-mat-ic,” Rorick repeated. He’d heard the word used many times, but his mind was jumbled. “Does it mean it needs ... water?”

  Jarial frowned and crossed his arms. “No, try again.”

  Rorick sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Does it mean it needs ... to be written down?”

  “I’m not going to give you the answer. We’ve gone over this word at least twice this week. We will be here all night, if we must, until you answer correctly.” Jarial’s gaze bore down on him.

  Rorick’s pondered his answer. Kaijin helped me with that word once, too. That was when he got in trouble for burning his—

  Rorick’s eyes brightened, and he grinned. “Hands! It means it needs hands!” He waved his hands excitedly.

  Jarial exhaled. “Yes, that’s right. It means you need to use one or both of your hands, depending on the spell.”

  “Hooray! I got it right! So can I go learn magic with Kaijin now?”

  Jarial chuckled and rose from his chair. “I think not. When you are able to answer my questions more fluently, then perhaps I will reconsider. Continue studying.”

  Rorick’s excitement waned slightly, but his confidence was stronger. After giving his master an eager nod, Rorick opened his book.

  * * *

  Jarial left Rorick to his studying. Passing through the solar, Jarial noticed Sable sitting on the windowsill staring out the open window. Her black tail twitched, and she seemed focused on something in particular.

  “Clausi,” Jarial whispered. He felt a brief surge of energy. Moments later
, the shutters slammed closed in front of Sable’s face, and she jumped, nearly falling off the windowsill. She looked toward Jarial and hissed.

  “I don’t need you bringing me any more dead birds and squirrels.” Jarial smirked at her. “Besides, it was getting a little drafty in here.” He went upstairs to check on Kaijin. He opened the door slowly and padded into the room.

  Kaijin dipped his quill in the inkwell, seemingly oblivious to Jarial’s approach.

  Peering over the boy’s shoulder, Jarial observed his process. His smile quickly vanished. He placed a hand on Kaijin’s shoulder. “Stop. Now.”

  * * *

  Kaijin snapped from his trance. Startled by his master’s touch and the closeness of his voice, Kaijin jerked his hand from the parchment, sending small droplets of ink flying from his quill and onto Jarial’s face. Kaijin swiveled his head and noticed his master’s ink-splattered face was bright red with rage.

  Jarial let loose a string of curses as he wiped away as much of the ink as he could.

  “Oh! I’m sorry, Master! I didn’t know you were—”

  “Enough!” Jarial growled. He took a deep breath. Ink smeared under his eyes and over his cheek. “You’re going to start over.”

  “S—start over?” Kaijin blinked. “Wha—what do you mean, Master?”

  Jarial pointed out just a few of the many mistakes on the parchment. “You left out cuts in your runes here ... and here. This spell is no good.” He snatched up the parchment and uttered a phrase, causing his hand to blaze. The parchment went up in flames.

  Kaijin gawked. He was both enamored by the beauty of the flames, and seething inside as he witnessed almost a full day’s work destroyed in mere seconds. “M–Master! H–how did you—”

  “—summon fire in my hand?” Jarial dismissed the spell. The flames extinguished, leaving his hand unscathed. “I thought you might enjoy that. Have patience. You will learn how to do it soon enough. For now, however, you must learn how to properly scribe a spell.” He let the ashy remains of the parchment sprinkle to the floor.

  Kaijin sighed at his master’s display of power. “How long did it take you to scribe your first spell, Master?”

  Jarial searched the room for more parchment. “Many months. I was like you. I did not have a steady hand. But as a student of the Citadel, I had to learn quickly how to fix that problem. You will, too. We will keep trying until you get it. Do not feel like you are being punished. By the time you’ve developed a steady hand, you’ll be able to write many of these spells from memory.”

  Kaijin managed a hopeful smile. “I can’t wait!”

  Jarial rummaged through the bookshelves and scroll cases for a moment before returning to the desk, empty-handed. “It appears we need more parchment.” He sighed, crossed his arms, and eyed Kaijin. “I’ve a new task for you. There’s a curio shop further into town that sells parchment. It’s about four blocks south of here, near the Ruddy Flask pub. You are to go there, buy a sheaf, and come right back, understood?”

  Kaijin’s eyes glittered at the mention of a new assignment. This one was, perhaps the greatest privilege of all. “Yes, of course, Master.” He rose out of his chair.

  Jarial ushered him downstairs and to the front door. He handed Kaijin a small pouch containing five gold pieces. “Use this money to buy the parchment. Don’t lose it. You have twenty minutes to complete this task and not a minute more.” He opened the door. “Run along.”

  For the first time since the day he and his brother began their new life, Kaijin was out on the streets of Easthaven. Early evening swept across the city, and the crowds began scattering to the pubs and other nightly establishments. Kaijin hustled, making his way down the cobbled streets to the shop. His mind never stopped racing.

  I wonder if I’ll see Mama and Papa. Kaijin smiled.

  As Kaijin walked, he heard faint, high-pitched sounds from above. The noise sounded distant and almost fell outside his range of hearing. Kaijin continued his steady pace. The looming buildings cast eerie shadows along the narrow streets, creating veils of blackness in the alleys. This area of Easthaven was unlike any place he’d ever seen. The people seemed to be in high spirits as they walked alone and sometimes in twos, talking amongst themselves or drinking. Kaijin’s feet tripped over some uneven cobblestone, startling him from his thoughts. With quick reflexes, Kaijin was able to maintain his footing. He stopped briefly, peered behind him, and saw the roundness of the shadow-covered stone sticking out more prominently than the others. Someone pushed past him, making him jerk backward. He gasped, spun around, and spotted a portly man, huddling and rubbing his hands together as he walked toward a pub.

  Kaijin eyed the establishment, to which people were flocking. The Ruddy Flask. I must be close.

  Another person brushed past Kaijin from behind, walking in the same direction. Unlike the last, this one stopped and acknowledged him curiously. He was a richly-dressed man, perhaps a merchant. Kaijin offered a polite smile and a nod in greeting. The man sneered, clutched a small pouch hanging at his side, and muttered, “Begone, street rat.”

  Kaijin’s smile faded. He watched the man quickly disappear into the pub before continuing on his way. Passing the Ruddy Flask, Kaijin was able to get a brief glimpse inside. The lively place was packed with people, and he could smell wine and roast pork wafting from the open door. His mouth watered. He missed his mother’s meals. His thoughts wandered as he was momentarily enticed by the mix of commoners and nobles inside. The colorful serving wenches trotted about with trays of drinks and food, smiling gleefully.

  Kaijin couldn’t help smiling, too. It looks like they’re having so much fun in there. Since coming to live with Jarial, fun and games were very few and far between. With their studies taking up the majority of the day, there was little time—and Jarial had little patience—for much else.

  “Now aren’t you cute. Lost?”

  Kaijin snapped from his thoughts and saw a woman standing before him. She smelled pleasantly of perfume.

  Her eyes looked heavy, and she smiled at him crookedly. She was big in the hips and even bigger in the chest. Curly locks of brown, unkempt hair fell over her rosy face. The dress she wore was fitted around her voluptuous shape and the top two buttons were undone. Slowly, she knelt down, her body shaking and swaying as she braced herself to keep her balance.

  Kaijin swallowed. She was pretty, but something about her bothered him. He clutched his money pouch tighter. “Um ... No, ma’am. I’m not lost.”

  The woman sighed. “So polite. Why can’t more men be like you?”

  A wave of laughter erupted from inside the pub, startling Kaijin. He caught a flash through one of the windows at a group of people dancing crazily.

  “Ah, the Ruddy Flask. Where the beer’s watered down, but the men are plentiful.” The woman chortled.

  Kaijin shifted his attention back to her. “Um. I have to go now.”

  “Yes, so do I.” She stood up slowly.

  A nobleman came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “There you are. Ready to go?”

  The woman pouted and acknowledged the man. “Don’t rush me. I was just having a conversation with this nice little boy here.”

  The man snorted at Kaijin. “It’s not often we find little boys wandering around near a pub at this hour. I think he’s really a brownie, Elise. They’re sneaky little things disguising themselves as innocent children only to pick your pockets.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here with my woman?”

  Kaijin gulped, staring at the man. “N–nothing, sir! I was just leaving, now.” He slowly walked around the two of them, without turning his back.

  The woman punched the man in the arm. “He’s not a brownie, Alex. He doesn’t have pointy ears. He’s just a lost little boy—and he’s got cleaner manners than you!”

  “We’ll see about that,” the man said, not taking his eyes off Kaijin.

  When Kaijin was a good distance from them, he spun on his heels and hustled toward
the shop, not looking back. Arriving at the door, he discovered it locked. Panicking, Kaijin tugged at the wooden door, hoping it would budge. No! I’m too late! Master Jarial will have my head for this! He knocked furiously on the door and then ran to a window. Peering through a small break in the closed curtain, Kaijin saw flickers of candlelight and shadows moving about. He knocked carefully on the glass, hoping someone—anyone—was still inside.

  To his relief, Kaijin heard the front door creak open and saw a red-haired woman poke her head out. She glanced left and right until finally resting her eyes on him.

  “What is all that racket you’re making, boy?” She scowled.

  Kaijin approached her and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need parchment.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I just closed up shop. Come back tomorrow.”

  “Please! It’s important! Master Jarial will be upset if I don’t come back with some parchment!”

  Her other eyebrow rose. “Jarial? Jarial Glace?” She smirked. “He never told me he had a student. What kind of master is he to send a small boy out alone this late?”

  “You know my master?” Kaijin blinked.

  “Know him? He’s a regular customer. If it’s not parchment or ink he’s buying, then it’s mundane spell components.”

  He showed her the money pouch. “Master Jarial gave me this for the parchment. May I please buy some?”

  The woman stared at the pouch. She sighed, disappeared in her shop, and returned with a secured sheaf of about 40 sheets. “Tell him to send you out earlier next time.” She took the money and handed it to him.

  Kaijin grinned. He clutched the sheaf close to him and regarded the woman graciously. “Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

  The woman winked. “Jarial’s rather moody. I can only imagine what kind of teacher he is.” She flicked her hand at him. “Off with you, now.”

  * * *

  Kaijin sped past the Ruddy Flask, avoiding people. The alleys seemed less daunting the more people he passed, and he considered taking an alternate route home. Maybe I will get back faster this way, he thought. I’m running out of time. He stopped in front of an alley and peered into its shadowy curtain. He listened for sounds, but none came. His heart pounded. It wasn’t the dark he was afraid of—it was the fear of getting lost. He had hoped there was more than one way back to the cottage, and he had hoped this route was faster. He took a deep breath and walked through the unknown. The air here was foul, reeking of urine and garbage. Covering his nose, Kaijin kept his eyes ahead. He couldn’t see the end of the alley and wondered just how far it went. He stopped and stared up at the narrow strip of starry night sky. A shiver ran down his spine. He had a feeling he wasn’t alone.