The Avatar's Flames (Through the Fire Book 1)

by Benjamin Medrano

  “Great, so… about that pact?” Yalline asked nervously.

  “Yes, we do need to take care of that,” Hekara said, approaching and smiling. Yalline couldn’t help her anxiety growing, but forced herself not to move. This was what Ruethwyn had done after all. But as one of the elemental’s arms went behind Yalline’s back, Hekara paused. “Ah, there is one thing I need to point out, Yalline.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” Yalline asked nervously, looking into the elemental’s eyes from only inches away.

  “You forgot to seal the terms of the agreement before entering the circle,” Hekara said calmly, and her other hand darted up to touch Yalline’s forehead before she could move.

  The elemental’s finger was hot, but from it lanced out a spike of pure agony that hit Yalline like a hammer. Her mouth opened as she tried to scream, then froze in place as mana rushed through Yalline’s body. Threads of fire surrounded her as the magic spread through Yalline’s mind painfully.

  “There’s something else, too,” Hekara said softly, her lips near Yalline’s ear. “You see… you transposed a couple of symbols in your circle, Yalline, so I could’ve left at any time. Now, let’s properly temper that mind of yours, then you can summon me with your art, hmm? Then I can make proper use of you.”

  Yalline only managed a whimper as the elemental began to whisper the words of a spell.

  Chapter 38

  The soft sound of a piano echoed through the chapel, accompanied by a flute, and Ruethwyn glanced around curiously as she looked for a place to sit with the others. The instruments and those playing them were hidden from view, but from the way their music spread through the room, she imagined they had to be in a spot with excellent acoustics.

  The chapel was tall, rising nearly three floors in the center tower, with a vaulted ceiling from which hung several chandeliers, each glowing with magical light nearly like the noonday sun. The whitewashed walls softened the light somewhat, and in each of the corners of the room were balconies a floor above them. In the back of the room was the large, simple altar dedicated to the Queen of Nature’s Court, with a doorway into the back mostly obscured by the marble statue of an elven woman in regal robes, her features deliberately left indistinct. Aside from the altar were the small shrines in each corner, each with numerous tiered shelves, the top row of which bore lit candles. The rest of the room was dominated by benches, many of which were partially full.

  Not seeing where the music was coming from, Ruethwyn chose to instead give up, following Tadrick and the others down a mostly empty row near the back of the chapel. It was going to be slightly warm in the room once everyone was there, Ruethwyn imagined… at least until a priest or teacher decided to use a spell to cool things off. Slipping past the others to take the seat closest to the wall, Ruethwyn smiled at the thought. Sometimes it was nice to be in an academy of magi.

  Korima settled down next to Ruethwyn, the kitsune looking around curiously as she did so, then murmuring, “This is a lot more elaborate than the temple back home. It’s in a big city, though, so it isn’t too surprising, I suppose.”

  “I wouldn’t know. The church in Mellesyn was tiny,” Ruethwyn said, her pangs of grief slightly weaker this time. She doubted she’d ever be over it, but Midwinter Night was when people were supposed to grieve. It was supposed to provide at least a minor sense of closure, so she hoped the service would help with that.

  “True, that seems normal enough. I think home is probably larger than your village was, but it’s still not a huge town,” Korima murmured, smiling back at Ruethwyn.

  A minute later, the others scooted down to make more room as the benches began filling more thoroughly, and Ruethwyn did her best not to flush as Korima pressed against her.

  Yalline tried to whimper as she final words of the summoning spell completed, but she wasn’t able to overcome the magic threaded through her mind, at least not yet. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time as she spoke softly. “Hekara, come to me. Fill me with your fire.”

  A searing sensation ran up Yalline’s arms, as patterns of orange light reminiscent of fire appeared along her arms and spread across her body. At the same time, tendrils of heat seemed to burn out from the point of magic in Yalline’s forehead and into the mage’s mind as a presence made itself known. Hekara’s mind appeared within Yalline’s, and the elemental’s pleasure was overwhelming as she stretched out. To Yalline’s horror, the elemental’s mind effortlessly overwhelmed her own, displacing her from being able to control her body with her present. It was as though the barrier that Ruethwyn’s notes had said helped protect the summoner’s thoughts didn’t even exist.

  “Of course it doesn’t, silly girl,” Hekara replied aloud, using Yalline’s body as she stretched. “Mm… I’m looking over those notes in your memories, and she said that using the art when you didn’t have a talent for it was a poor idea. Obviously that means that you have no defense against us if we decide to take control. I think I might have to see about spreading this technique in other areas of the world… without the pesky warnings, mind you. That would give all sorts of opportunities.”

  Yalline’s horror grew still greater at the thought, and the elemental chuckled, her thoughts suddenly walled off from Yalline’s somehow. “Oh, don’t worry, Yalline… I’m not going to eat you or something. Keep you prisoner, perhaps, but not something wasteful like that. Now, let’s get to work, shall we? I need to subvert the wards first…”

  “There you are, Yalline! What in the hells do you think you’re doing down here?” Madeline’s voice was almost a relief to Yalline, but that relief suddenly turned to worry. “The ceremony must be already about to begin and we haven’t even started to—wait, what’re you doing, looking like that? Your arms are glowing.”

  “Oh, my apologies, Madeline,” Hekara replied quickly, turning and bowing her head as though she was apologetic. “I was just trying to see if I couldn’t figure out how to make Ruethwyn’s magic work for me, and I think I had a breakthrough!”

  “Is that so? Well, it might actually turn out to have been worth you taking those notes from her room, then. You could’ve chosen a better day for it, though! I got you into the academy, so I’d like you to show some dedication to helping me get ready for public appearances,” Madeline scolded, coming closer as she did so. “Now, what is it that you’ve figured out—”

  “Shut up,” Hekara said casually, grabbing the noblewoman by the throat and cutting her off abruptly. “I see why Yalline doesn’t like you, Madeline… but you still have your uses.”

  “Urk?” Madeline gurgled, grabbing at Yalline’s hand while her feet kicked just off the ground. Yalline wondered how the demon was able to hold her up that high, since she wasn’t strong enough to hold Madeline like that.

  The elemental murmured the words of a spell, which suddenly launched Madeline across the room and into the wall hard. The impact made Yalline flinch internally, but Hekara quickly cast a second spell, causing much of the stone along the wall to partially liquify and form into bands that wrapped around Madeline. When they were done they hardened, having gagged Yalline’s patron and leaving her half-inside the wall, unable to move.

  “My presence strengthens your body, obviously,” Hekara told Yalline, smiling. “Now, then… she’ll make a good source of mana for a century or seven. I’m so grateful you summoned me in a mage academy, Yalline, as that will give me ample opportunities to gather others like her. I’d remove her tongue to be safe, which I would have thought you’d appreciate, but I don’t want to risk killing her in the process. I’ll wait until I have the proper tools back home.”

  Yalline wished she could go back in time and shake herself before she cast the summoning ritual. Anything to keep from being a prisoner in her own body. As much as she might dislike how Madeline treated her, the noblewoman didn’t deserve what Hekara said she was going to do.

  “You’re going to be in a much better position than her, don’t worry. You were useful,” Hekara said, turning and st
epping out of the room and looking around. “I’ll also be giving your body back shortly after I alter the wards. I can’t do all this on my own, and we need to ensure that your teachers can’t interfere in time. Now, since you don’t know where the keystone is, let’s go find it, hmm?”

  Yalline mentally shrunk back, wondering just what she’d done.

  Chapter 39

  The service ended up going about as Ruethwyn expected. There was the usual sermon about how Nature’s Court shaped each species at the dawn of time, and how each had a role in life. There was a eulogy for those who’d passed before, along with giving thanks for them making way for new life in the world. The elderly priestess of the Queen had a beautiful speaking voice, and she kept enough emotion in her voice that few people seemed to be distracted.

  “I would like to invite all of you to now make offerings of remembrance. At the shrine of the Princess, welcome new lives of the past year into the world. To the Shifter, pray for those who you have not seen for the year past that you may be reunited. At the shrine of the Guardian, pray for those who you wish to protect. And at the shrine of the Dowager, bid farewell to those who’ve passed on,” the priestess said, her voice serene as she looked over the congregation and smiled. “Though please, only use one candle at each shrine. There are a great many of you, and some of you will have more than others to address.”

  The priestess’s invitation caused Ruethwyn to pause in surprise, blinking in a bit of confusion, her mouth opening, then closing as others began to rise from their seats. Tadrick glanced over and frowned, leaning forward to get a better look at her before asking, “Rue? Are you not going to pray for the others of your village?”

  “I… I suppose I will. I just…” Ruethwyn said, feeling the lump in her throat as she shook her head. “I didn’t expect it, is all. We didn’t do this growing up… we just prayed for those we wished to honor.”

  “Ah, I see. Just get in line, then. You’re only expected to take a candle from the box and light it, setting it on one of the shelves,” Tadrick said softly, his voice rising a bit to be heard over the sound of people moving. “Generally they suggest whispering the names of those who’ve passed on as you pray for them.”

  “Alright, I suppose I can do that,” Ruethwyn agreed, taking a deep breath and letting it out before slowly standing. “This will likely take a bit.”

  “I think I’ll be going over to the shrine for the Guardian,” Korima said, quickly standing herself, then hesitating and asking, “Will you be alright, Rue? I mean, you lost… well, a lot of people.”

  “I don’t know. I think so, but who knows for certain?” Ruethwyn replied, pushing back the threads of grief that thinking about her parents brought. “We’ll see in a bit. Go ahead.”

  “Do you need company, Rue?” Sella asked, sounding a bit worried.

  “No. Thank you, though,” Ruethwyn replied, carefully making her way down the aisle past those who were still seated.

  There weren’t many people in front of the Dowager’s shrine, a few less than were in front of the Princess’s, in fact, but even a dozen would give Ruethwyn enough time to get her thoughts in order. She was telling the truth about what she’d planned… she’d expected a moment of silence for the fallen, and a listing of those children who’d been born the past year, like had been the case in Mellesyn. Thinking about it, that was simply unreasonable outside a village like where she’d grown up.

  There was an acolyte in the alcove, Ruethwyn noticed, the man looking dignified in his robes, and offering both the candles to the three people who could fit into the shrine at a time as well as a small lamp which burned with a dull red flame. Ruethwyn thought it was fitting, since the dim fire was appropriate for the disappearance of those who’d died and left her alone.

  The rising sound of a flute managed to overcome the crowd’s murmuring, and Ruethwyn tried to focus on it. The music was… odd. It lilted, just a hint of liveliness amongst the faintly mournful tune. It was intended to showcase all five aspects of Nature’s Court, she realized as it danced between a steady rhythm and a more fanciful, free beat.

  “Miss?” The acolyte almost startled Ruethwyn as he spoke to her. She’d been distracted enough that she hadn’t realized that she’d reached the front of the line, and she gave a half-hearted smile in return.

  “My apologies. My mind was wandering,” Ruethwyn murmured, shrugging helplessly and reaching out to take a candle. The box was filled with stubby candles, many of them having been partially burned before, but also each in a small ceramic mug.

  “I do understand. It’s common for those who’ve come to this shrine,” the man replied, smiling slightly as he offered the lamp. “My sympathies for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Ruethwyn replied, turning the candle in her hand and carefully lighting it from the lamp, watching the wick ignite slowly as she suppressed the urge to pull away from the flame. Once it was alight, she turned it upright and reached out to set the candle next to the others. Taking a deep breath, she murmured softly. “Immel Fairlyn. Sir Inserra. Carlen.”

  As she continued to whisper soft names, staring into the candlelight, Ruethwyn heard the acolyte abruptly inhale, but she didn’t stop. Mellesyn had housed more than four hundred people, though Ruethwyn had only known fifty-three by name. Of those, she knew that eight had been kidnapped. That gave forty-five names she had to recite, and her voice began to tremble as she neared the end, grief nearly overwhelming her.

  “Sinera… my dear teacher. I miss you,” Ruethwyn said, almost unable to force the words out, swallowing hard as tears welled up in her eye again. Still, the hardest were yet to come, and she choked for a moment before falling to her knees before the altar. “Father… Mother… I’m sorry. I wish that I’d been quicker or smarter. That you were still with me.”

  “Dowager have mercy on you…” the acolyte murmured, then told the others, “Go on, keep moving, please. Each of us deals with our losses in our own ways. Take the time you need, young lady.”

  Ruethwyn didn’t respond, tears flowing down her cheek as she remembered her parents. Her father, so meticulously using his magic to weave flax into thread, then thread into the fine linen. His gentle voice as he’d moved her away from the loom, which was so dangerous for the fingers of a young child. How he’d chided her for the rare tears in her clothing and fixed them with a deft touch.

  Despite that, Ruethwyn knew it was her mother who had influenced her more as a child. Mareth had been slightly more awkward and distant compared to Beran, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care. One of Ruethwyn’s most vivid recollections was the morning that her mother had gotten her up early and climbed high in one of the trees, holding Ruethwyn above the canopy to watch the sun rise over the forest. The way the night sky had given way to morning twilight and the sun’s radiance… it had been inspiring, and her mother had held her through all of it patiently. Even when she spent most of her time in the forest, Mareth brought back rare or interesting herbs and fruit to share and teach Ruethwyn about. A tiny part of Ruethwyn deeply wished her mother had left just a bit earlier that day, as she’d almost missed the raiding party, but that wasn’t what had happened.

  “Dowager… please grant me the strength to overcome this. Please grant them the rest they rightfully deserve,” Ruethwyn whispered, her eye closed as she prayed for everyone she’d lost. “Please… they don’t deserve to suffer.”

  For a long moment, all she felt was the cool stone through her dress and the faint heat of the candles nearby. The smell of incense and so many people in a small space was almost overpowering as well, but then it changed slightly. The air seemed to clear, if only slightly, and Ruethwyn could smell fallen leaves from the autumn. A touch brushed against her shoulder where the dress had been folded to hide the stump, and Ruethwyn almost heard a chiding, gentle voice. It reminded her of when her father had teased her about making do rather than doing things right. Another touch brushed her other shoulder, and she could smell the wild scent of herbs fro
m the deep forest, just like when her mother had returned for the day.

  Ruethwyn’s eye opened as the sensation passed, and neither of her parents were there, in spectral form or physical. The only thing she could see was the unwavering flame of the candle before her, unlike the others which fluttered and guttered in the chapel air. An instant later, she felt as though her father had gently kissed her on the forehead, and all sensation of her parents vanished.

  The gods rarely communicated more clearly than they just had, and Ruethwyn felt her grief ease, even if only slightly. The Dowager wasn’t known for her kindness, but neither was she cruel. She was the one who culled the herds and the forests of those that needed to pass, and Ruethwyn’s mother had always emphasized how important that was. That she had given Ruethwyn even that brief moment of comfort from her parents, a final chance for them to say farewell… it was unusual, and Ruethwyn felt nothing but gratitude for it.

  Wiping the tears from her face, Ruethwyn sniffed and slowly rose to her feet. As she did so, the acolyte asked, “Are you going to be alright, young lady? You lost a great many people this past year.”

  “That remains to be seen, but… She gave me a response,” Ruethwyn replied, sniffing again as she glanced at the shrine and gave a wan smile. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be alright, but it helped.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. The Dowager may not stay her hand, but she has compassion for those who’ve lost their loved ones,” the man replied, a smile warming his face as he relaxed. “Do you need help back to your seat?”