Ignite

by Hannah Parker

  “They’re called Purification Pools,” Mara said, seeing the confusion crossing my face, “they’re meant to cleanse and heal, both physically, and spiritually.”

  I prodded the spot on my back where Kiyne had stitched me up. He wasn’t here to slap my hand away this time. There was no more pain and only a strange bump beneath my fingers as I moved them along. It was a pleasant surprise for once.

  “Like I was saying,” Mara continued, “We can do a few tests. Not everyone can speak to Dragons, firstly, but learning a bit of magic wouldn’t hurt either.”

  “You’ll teach me?” I cried out, unable to hide my excitement.

  “Who else would deal with someone as stubborn as you are?” Mara grinned, ducking her body beneath the waters once more.

  I followed her lead, dipping back beneath the warm waters and letting their power surround me. I messed with my hair, scrubbing the dirt from beneath my nails. I rubbed my face, the warm water whisking away the grime. It felt good, and it was definitely needed more than we’d even considered.

  When I came up, Mara was already dressing, a long, pale blue robe hugging her every curve as it flowed across her shoulders and down. The sleeves billowed just like the base; silver stitching was skillfully woven through the light fabric in complex patterns.

  “Here,” she said, tossing one at me, “better get it on or we’ll be late.”

  I jumped up, pulling the robe into my arms, daring not to get it drenched like our own clothing, “where’s our stuff?”

  Mara shrugged, “must’ve taken it to get cleaned. I bet it smelled awful. Stunk up the whole city.”

  “No shoes?” I had looked down, finding Mara barefoot on the stone.

  “Not in the city,” she remarked. “Everyone’s just more comfortable this way.”

  We laughed. I felt uneasy putting the robe on and wandering barefoot, the garment was perfectly fitted, capable of sticking to every bit of shape I had, no matter how small. I didn’t want to insult anyone though, and I wasn’t about to walk around naked.

  Lily appeared at the head of the path as we left the warm springs behind us. She smiled at the sight of us dressed in our new attire, a streak of pride scrawled across her face. Had she made them for us? She looked so young but, I remembered Mara’s words; time was different for them, and for this place.

  “Dinner will be ready shortly,” she announced. “Please follow me.”

  The table was enormous; a long stretch of smoothed wood with rounded edges sitting at the center. Flicks of silver and red swam its surface like small creeks while every chair at its side sat the same, just as refined as the table, and awaiting its guests.

  Several Elven had already gathered, speaking in small circles, some in hushed whispers, and others with boisterous laughter. They all stopped on our arrival; each step into the courtyard felt pressured like I was walking on eggshells. One wrong motion and they’d be on me like vultures, howling insults and laughing at my faults.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Mara whispered, linking her arm around mine. They're not fond of any outsiders in general.”

  “Please be seated,” a male voice commanded from atop the stairs.

  We took a brisk few steps forward, my body following Mara in one fluid motion as she pulled me to the right seat. It was just in time too, as Kiyne appeared to rejoin us; he too wearing a pale robe, his an olive tone as he took the seat next to mine.

  “Don’t you look nice,” he whispered with a wink.

  I snarled, taking a seat and giving him a small kick beneath the table. My cheeks flushed pink at his comment, and I hoped the boot to his leg would distract him in time for them to recover.

  Small talk ceased, and food suddenly appeared on all sides, brought out by a number of Elven in waves. My cup was placed and filled, my plate stacked and put before me as utensils materialized as if by magic. They were ridiculously organized, and I could see both Mara and Kiyne already drooling over the food from my peripherals. Suddenly, the sound of chairs scraping disrupted our desires, and we stood as if by second nature, to greet our long-awaited company.

  Her hair was like starlight; its silver strands glittering behind her every step like stars shooting across the evening sky. Grey eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a specific someone. I’d seen those eyes before, their mysterious gaze floating over me without hesitation.

  “Mara, my girl,” the woman said, opening her arms.

  Mara was quick to run over, hugging the woman like a child who’d just found her parents after a storm.

  “You’re as beautiful as ever,” she said, brimming with joy.

  “And you still haven’t aged a day,” Mara replied, burying her face against the woman’s shoulder.

  The two shared one last embrace before Mara returned to her seat, a new aura of bliss radiating from her.

  The woman stood, once more scanning us as she clutched her chair. Her dress was an off-white, glittering with an array of sparkling jewels that nearly blinded with every small movement.

  “Please sit,” she said with a smile. “We have guests at our table this evening.”

  I felt her eyes upon me, and I looked away, fearful of her gaze.

  “They have brought with us, a great gift,” she continued.

  Gift? Gift? The gem! Of course! I’d forgotten about it when I went into the water. It must still be in my pocket! What if she wanted to see it? I didn’t know where they’d taken our items. They could’ve been tossed in a fire for all I knew. I didn’t even have a rock to pass off at this point.

  The woman took a seat, hands folding gently on the table. She put down a stone at her center and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It was the gem. Whoever had taken our things had likely rummaged through the pockets before discarding them or doing whatever with them and handed the gem off to her when they found it.

  Voices began to speak, quietly but with great concern.

  “This is the Heart, as I’m sure many of you are familiar; the one gem that remains of the five.”

  The voices grew louder, some speaking their concerns rather boldly.

  A man stood, fear evident in his voice, “Lady Mena, that gem is a curse. Why bring it here?”

  “It is a curse in the wrong hands,” the woman replied.

  “It should have been destroyed like the others!” another voice chimed in.

  The woman, Lady Mena as I’d figured out, watched and listened for a few moments as the table stirred and its guests voiced their concerns. Finally, she held her hands up, a silence falling to the table once again without any objections.

  “Maybe we should explain this supposed ‘curse’ to our new guests before we frighten them off,” Mena offered.

  The lantern lights from the torch bugs above us dimmed and strange orange wisps began to sweep over the table before us. Figures began to form, Elven, all gathered around what looked to be a forge. They began to hammer and work away, each one taking on a specific duty to aid the others in their endeavor.

  “Long ago, our world was formed from the spits of the Greater Beings. Where darkness lurked in the universe, they saw light, breathing life into the stars to and giving birth to our realm and its people. We lived peacefully, grateful for our existence, always offering praise and prayer for all that we discovered.

  But our existence was not enough. The other Greater Beings felt the need to create life as well, bearing upon us Dragons, Fairies, and other creatures. We learned to co-exist with these creatures, working with one another to maintain peace and unity. However, we were easily undone by another presence...

  The Ethereal was the sacred land, a place without conflict. That held no interest for the Greater beings who wished for us to entertain and amuse them.

  Thus, they created the Hulknaut; your world. The life of Mortals, Animals, and Beasts that would fight for dominance and victory, caring not for what they destroyed in their conquest.

  The war of your world threatened our own, and we sent many of our people,
and our beings, to curve the bloodshed and restore peace to our worlds. We formed the Arcanon; riders with great magical influence who would work with Dragons to quickly end the fighting. As the ages continued, our kings intertwined, birthing a new breed of Arcanon, Mortals with magic who could bring reason to the world of Men with their bloodline and relation.

  As the war dwindled, we vowed to hold all beings to the same level; one of quality as we do ourselves. We created the Facet Gems, stones like feathers and small in form from the blood, ash and, tears of a war-torn land. There were five in all; the Body, the Mind, the Spirit, the World, and the Heart. Each one ruled an aspect of life, and each one could command that aspect in turn.

  For years our worlds lived silently, peacefully, meshing as if to be one where all life could thrive amongst each other. Without fear. Without hatred. But, the greed of Mortals grew strong, and the line of Mortal Arcanon faded from memory. Jealousy grew for the beings beyond the horizon. Gems were sought out, killed for, and used to command armies of fearsome power.

  We could no longer risk the lives of our people, of the harmony that had been restored for so long. With the existence of the stones, there would be no peace. They were ordered to be destroyed by Algun himself, the founder of our city. We managed to retrieve all but one, at the cost of many lives, and they were destroyed in the same forge from whence they came.”

  The wisps of Elven forgers had changed, each one throwing in some strange, small object, a flicker of flame reflecting its fate.

  “But one gem still remained, hidden by the Dragons of the Ethereal, and kept safe from all that would use its power, whether for good, or misdeed; the Heart.”

  I stared at the stone at her front, the image of pain I’d seen reenacted by those magical wisps still fresh in my mind. Were we really just pawns for someone else’s amusement?

  The table remained silent, food and drinks still untouched. The wisps faded, leaving the torch bugs to brighten the area once again. The aura of despair began to dissipate, the Elven beginning to dig into their meals like all had somehow been renewed or forgotten.

  I shuddered; a feeling of dead latching onto my body and refusing to let go.

  “Please. Eat,” Mena said, looking down the table at my friends and I. “We shall deal with the stone’s fate once your energy has been restored.”

  We were all a bit reluctant but the deep grumbling that echoed from the pit of our stomachs reminded us how famished we truly were. Serving dishes of root vegetables were spaced apart by trays of various meats. I could identify a few, the deer, and the rabbit but the others I was unsure of. Soups were coloured in bright yellows, and vibrant greens, and you could see the steam from their piping hot contents wither into the air as conversations started again. Anything I could’ve imagined, from amber ales to exotic fruits were somewhere spread out on the table before us, ready to be devoured by whoever got their hands on them. Why we’d gone so long without another meal again I couldn’t say but, despite my emotions, I still went through a plate and more of everything presented to us, like I was a pack of wild dogs feasting on a deer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dinner had ended, the table’s guests departing with waves and farewells. The glares I’d endured earlier had softened, now resembling pity rather than contempt. I’d spoken very little after dinner, my stomach full and afraid that if I spoke, I would burst. My friends felt similarly, the three of us wanting rest now more than ever. At least here we could sleep soundly, without fear of Marauders or bandits making us take turns keeping watch during the night.

  I warmed at the thought of sleep, curling up in the soft bed and drifting away. Perhaps I’d dream of flying again, or the amazing food I’d just consumed. Both images filled me with contentment.

  “Alina,” a voice called after me as I began to leave the courtyard; Lady Mena’s voice. “A word if I could.”

  Mara and Kiyne stopped but, I waved them on. There was no sense in them sticking around and falling asleep at the table waiting on me. They needed the rest, just as badly as I wanted it.

  I turned to face Lady Mena, my bare feet spinning all too easily on the stone stairs. It seemed everyone here was more comfortable barefoot, and though I felt a little off without my boots, it did feel rather pleasant in a strange, free-spirited kind of way.

  We walked some more forgotten pathways, weaving through over-grown trees and cracked statues along the way. We traversed a mix of dirt and moss, stone steps long-buried or removed. A large stream flowed to our right, the sound of trickling water breaking through a symphony of insect song as it barreled over small dams in its length.

  “Long passed were the days of the Mortal Arcanon, and yet, one is thought to stand here beside me,” she began.

  She opened her palm, once more revealing the gemstone and turning to me, “I believe this is yours.”

  I shook my head, “keep it. It’ll be safer here, to be destroyed.”

  She smiled, curling the gem back into her grasp and continuing back down the path.

  “I don’t believe you’re Arcanon, Alina,” she continued. “I believe you’re something more.”

  We broke through the narrow passage to an opening. Leaves had fallen from the trees surrounding us despite their spring-like state. A strange, stone monument seemed to sit at the center of the clearing, lonely and forgotten. Broken pieces of stone were strewn about, and I could tell quite quickly that this place was much older than both Lady Mena, and myself.

  She approached the odd pedestal, circling it once and whispering a few Elvish words beyond my basic comprehension. When she ceased, a cool wind swept through, giving me a shiver. Strange green symbols engulfed the pedestal, glowing brightly in an odd and rhythmic pattern, much like the sound of a heartbeat. They slinked downward, spreading across the stone beneath our feet. The wind cleared much of the space, and I could see a faint red glow begin to brighten at the top of the pedestal. This was no monument or sacrificial placeholder; this was a forge!

  “This is where it all began,” Lady Mena said. “And where it should have ended.” She took the gem from her hand and tossed it into the forge without another thought.

  We stood, silent for some time as the flames grew brighter and brighter in the veil of night.

  “But it seems things are not as final as we would like to believe.” Her eyes fell upon me, motioning for me to join her at the forge.

  I stepped lightly, approaching with both caution and bravery. This thing was ancient and other-worldly, who knew what or when this thing would split and explode.

  “See there?” she asked, looking into the flames and hoping I would do the same.

  I peaked in, still keeping a distance but, trying not to show my fear. There sat the gem, radiating with the same orange gleam just like the day I’d found it.

  “Why hasn’t the forge melted it?” I asked, bewildered.

  “I have the same question,” Lady Mena replied. “Take it.”

  I moved back, looking over to her with a baffled expression.

  “You’ve done this before, no?”

  How did she know? Did she know too, then, that I’d stolen it from Bryden?

  “I can’t,” I said. “The flames...they’re too hot. I-I'm afraid.”

  “I don’t think these flames will hurt you,” she offered. “Give it a try.”

  I was puzzled, she knew so much but revealed to me so little. Was this some sort of test like Mara had been telling me? I could feel her eyes still watching, waiting for me to act.

  I closed my eyes, stretching out my hand to the flames as they flared into the night. I waved my hand around, feeling something but not the heat or pain I had anticipated.

  I opened one eye, peering at the sight; my hand was held in the flames, their light prancing around my fingers lightly, like butterflies more than fire. I reached into the depths of the forge, plucking the gem and holding it out on my palm once again. As I pulled my hand away, the gem began to dull, cooling in the air and returning
to the crimson-gold I’d been so enraptured by.

  “Just as I thought,” Mena said with glee, “you’re Skyborn.”

  “A what?” I asked, stunned.

  “A being capable of joining with the gem you clutch in your hand.”

  We sat for some time, as Mena explained the Skyborns and their purpose to me. First, I was an Arcanon, and now Skyborn? No, I was Alina, an orphaned girl afraid of fire, and a seeker of adventure; nothing more.

  “The gems were kept by Skyborns, those who embodied the gem in both body and mind. When the others were destroyed, so were their keepers, a sacrifice they knew had to be fulfilled. The heart was kept by an Arcanon named Odaer; he was able to speak with not only his Dragon companion but others as well. He commanded legions of wild horses, bears, and even the mightiest Dragons but, he never asked them for their obedience, only their aid.

  When his daughter was born, he had found she had the same traits, and in his age, his skill and ability had been passed onto her. This was unheard of, especially for Mortals, and had never been conceived by the minds of our Forgemasters. The time came to sacrifice the gems and the lives of their keepers but, Odaer knew it was not his life that would be taken; it would be hers. He could not bear to see his only child killed, even for the sake of the worlds and our peace so, he sent the gem away with his Dragon to the Lasting Lands where it could be hidden, and safe. Many tried to recover the gem, and failed, unable to conquer the harsh and wild terrain where only Dragons roamed; thus, it was never destroyed.”

  I was still puzzled, “but, Odaer...his daughter would’ve been gone by now, so the gem should’ve been destroyed when you tossed it into the fire.”

  “Oh?” she said, looking at me inquisitively. “Odaer passed on his legacy to her. Do you not believe she could have done the same?”

  Centuries of lineage passing down the ability to talk to animals and endure fire? Impossible! Folk tales were Folk tales, even if told by the Elves. Yet, I had the nagging feeling I knew the answer to her question, and I felt it in both my gut and my heart. It sat on the tip of my tongue, bubbling up from my throat and begging to be spoken.