Playing With Fire

by Jordan Mendez

  “Not so fun, is it?” the demon rasped through a small slit of a mouth on what could be considered a head in the minimal requirement. Its scales blended in with the dark rocky shelf, and made it almost invisible, but due to the dragging sounds and the scrape of its toe nails it made with each step it was easy to detect. “You might have had a chance to think twice about crossing master Enzio, if only you hadn’t shown love for the horrid girl.”

  Alastair didn’t respond. It had been clear to him that no matter what he would never be able to regret befriending Scarlet. That was the one thing he had become absolutely certain of. Alastair concentrated on the torch resting on the edge of the shelf. The flames were beautiful as they wisped around against the dark backdrop of the ocean. The warm glow reminded him exactly of hers…

  The demon drew a dagger from its ill fitted belt. Alastair knew what its orders were: kill him. Though no specific way was given, even a fool could guess that a demon would never be generous enough to kill quickly. He could practically feel the pure malice and blood lust jutting from the disfigured demon’s body as it neared him. Alastair sighed to himself as he closed his eyes and visualized being in an open field, the one place he had wanted to see.

  “Closing your eyes will make no difference boy,” the demon said as it snickering sinisterly. “Seeing your death is this world’s last gift to—” CRACK! Alastair’s eyes flipped open a millisecond after the demon’s neck snapped with a sound resembling snapping a wet twig.

  Alastair paid absolutely no attention to the dead demon as it fell from its attacker’s hands, hitting the ground with a thud as Alastair bore into icy blue eyes. An immediate hostility sparked in his mind.

  ~

  Al didn’t know which was more shocking: how easily and quickly Vaze killed the demon or a mountain half disappearing being replaced by the largest castle Al had ever dreamed of. Great towers seemingly punctured the sky as the jutted up from walls of stone. There was nothing primitive about the castle. In fact Al could say with certainty that it was the most intricate, beautiful, and complex structure he had ever seen in his life. Al couldn’t see anything else over the walls, but he could only imagine what wondrous architecture lay inside.

  He could hardly keep his mind together between the dead demon, the castle, and Vaze and the boy on the stake glaring at each other. It was as if the moment they saw each other they had become enemies.

  “Who are you?” Vaze and the boy hissed at each other in unison, making Al’s spine shiver from how cold the two sounded. Al may not have been able to see it, but Vaze could see it clearly with his Sight. The boy before them had no Guardian. He was either like Vaze, or a demon himself.

  “Does it really matter?” Vaze replied coldly with an unbroken glare. His wings were fully out, and they gave him an incredibly menacing appearance, making the starry sky behind him disappear, covering it with a blanket of inky blackness revealing only his deathly gaze. It terrified Al, even though he knew Vaze was on his side, until he snapped back into reality.

  “Vaze, for the sake of time, can we please avoid getting into every fight possible?” Al drew his dagger and walked to the post, being more wary of the drop behind the boy than the boy’s glare.

  “Al! Don’t! He could be an enemy!” Vaze didn’t even try to hide his concern. Al ignored him and cut the boy’s bindings. The boy jumped off of the post with ease, but Al could tell from his twitch that he was still in pain.

  “Wait,” the boy said rubbing his rope marked wrists. “You’re Al? By any chance, are you Scarlet’s brother?” Al’s heart skipped at the mention of Scarlet’s name, and a new hope flooded inside him.

  “Do you know where she is?” Vaze jumped at the question before Al could, his former hostility seemingly dissipating at the mention of Scarlet.

  “I have a vague idea of two places where she could be now, but we may not have much time.” The boy looked to Vaze, eyeing his wings. “I think that splitting up would be best.”

  Vaze shot him a glare of complete and utter disapproval.

  “That’s a horrible idea. I can’t leave you alone for fear of betrayal and I can’t leave Al alone either.” Al felt a small feeling of rejection at Vaze’s last statement, but he decided not to say anything.

  “Then you could leave us together while you check her room, and we go for the dungeon,” the boy replied. “The more time we argue the less time we have.”

  Vaze didn’t respond right away, unsure how wise leaving Al with a stranger was. But the thought of Scarlet slowly fading away drowned out all of his other thoughts.

  “Which way is it?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vaze had never seen it before, but he knew without a doubt that that castle was the lost kingdom Moraj, the very kingdom of which he was the heir to. It bore a haunting feel as he laced through the sky to the tower Alastair had pointed out. There was no noise, save for the occasional flap of his wings. He tried to imagine it before it had gone through the Convergence, a time when it was lively and bustling with activity. Vaze could even imagine his mother strolling through the courtyard, tending flowers or watching little birds as they scampered across the plants. The thought of her smiling face stabbed Vaze’s heart with longing, but he quickly dismissed it.

  Behind the dark drawn curtains of glass double doors he could faintly make out a flickering light, possibly from a candle. Vaze practically rolled onto the balcony as he landed, his wings disappearing the instant he touched the solid stone. Without hesitation he threw open the doors and burst through the curtains, emerging into an extravagant room.

  His eyes shot to the candle resting by a large bed. What rested in it took his breath away with pure happiness. Scarlet lied in the very center of the bed, seeming extremely small compared to the enormity of it. Her dark hair was spread out against the pillow, and her snowy white skin seemed to glow against her dark dress and the sheets of the bed. Vaze’s heart leapt at the sight of her, and nearly ran to her before he stopped short.

  What would he say to her? The last time they talked had been after he had kissed her, and that hadn’t gone too well. His heart ached with anxiety and longing, but he knew no matter what she said, he had to get her out. He walked to her bed side, and touched her face.

  “She won’t wake up, you know,” a voice snickered from a chair next to the fireplace. Vaze whipped around, dagger drawn, and gasped.

  “Surprised?” The girl giggled as she arose. “You sure look like it.”

  Vaze couldn’t find the words to speak. Leaning casually against the arm of the chair, was Scarlet—or so to say, the demon version of Scarlet. Her red eyes danced with pure malice as she brushed back her white hair.

  “That’s a fake,” her voice sounded exactly like Scarlet’s. It pained Vaze to hear that voice come out of the demon’s mouth. “The real one is elsewhere, but dead.”

  “You lie,” Vaze hissed hatefully. “She isn’t dead.” The demon just laughed, and Vaze’s eyes narrowed.

  “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” she said, a fanged smile playing across her lips. “Don’t worry little love bird, you can join your beloved soon enough in death’s cold hands.” Black fire began to lace across the walls, and snake its way towards Vaze.

  Without a second’s hesitation, Vaze made a mad lunge for the door, just as the black fire exploded behind him. Curtains, carpets and furniture burst into flames as the demon laughed maniacally. Vaze could feel the searing heat from the fire, but didn’t turn around to see the burning room that mirrored hell. Sprinting at full speed, Vaze raced down the dark hallway, his feet hardly making contact with carpet as he ran.

  Pictures burst into flames as he ran past, as if they were trying to reach out and grab him. Generations of his ancestors went up in flames yet Vaze kept his pace, not even giving them a second thought. There was not enough room in the hallway to bring out his wings, but Vaze knew his only chance against the demon was going to be in the air, not on the ground.

  ~

&n
bsp; Al found it odd how dead the whole castle seemed as they were nearing the dungeon. They didn’t come across a single guard or demon and had no trouble getting back into the castle. Even Vaze, who when flying to the window of Scarlet’s room must have been nothing if not easy to spot, had no problems at all. It was wrong no matter what way it was looked at—it was all too perfect. The truth finally dawned on Al.

  “He knows we’re here,” Al said, stopping suddenly. Alastair paused before he opened the rusted dungeon doors, turning around and looking at him with a bit of guilt. The torch light was flickering to the point of nonexistence, but it was just enough to see the worry on Alastair’s face as clearly as the robust cracks in the stones of the floor.

  “He probably does,” was all Alastair could say back. Alastair had no reason to lie to this boy, but he had a strong urge to say no. It wasn’t out of pity or compassion that he wanted to reassure Al, but from a small voice in the back of his head that kept egging him on to do so, as if trying to convince him to its will. The voice did not belong to him. Alastair tried his best to ignore it as he opened the door. The door was stubborn, groaning in protest it slowly opened while scraping the ground as if trying to keep itself shut.

  Al followed Alastair without question as they descended into the darkness. A faint echo of a woman crying found Al’s ears, and suddenly his walking became running as he pushed past Alastair, using dying torches to avoid running into walls.

  Mold and rusting bars were the most reoccurring sight that Al could catch from the blurs moving past him in empty cells, and all that could go through his head was of his sister suffering in a similar place. The thought only motivated him to run faster.

  The crying became louder until finally he came upon his worst nightmare. In the only occupied cell sat Draco Hale, a woman he did not know, and his sister. The first thing he felt when he saw her was happiness, for he had finally found her. But then he realized something was wrong.

  She was dead.

  Pure rage welled up inside Al, and was stronger than any feeling he had ever felt before. Draco lifted up his head, and his eyes widened as he saw Al, but Al said nothing.

  “Alphonse, wait!” Draco cried with a booming voice, but it was too late. Al bolted back down the corridors of the dungeons past Alastair. Alastair lifted a hand to stop him, but before he could call out, a burning sensation ripped at his skull. Alastair crumpled to the ground clutching his head as menacing words seared through his mind.

  “You will not cross me again, Alastair,” he knew the voice all too well. “You will obey me, whether by free will or not.” Alastair could not argue. Alastair could not disobey. The voice was his master, Enzio’s. Alastair ran after Al, a new wave of obedience washing over him. Alastair caught up with ease and grabbed Al by his shoulder.

  Al whipped around with an angry expression, and to Alastair he seemed like a completely different person. Gone was the calm yet somewhat timid Al. In his place was a poor grief stricken soul bent on revenge.

  “Follow me. I can show you where Velkire is.” Alastair said breathlessly.

  ~

  “Scarlet…” A hushed voice brushed against my ear, filling my blank mind with a soothing feeling. “Scarlet…” The only thoughts in my head were: I was dead (or about to be) and yet, I was absolutely, undoubtedly safe.

  “Scarlet,” the voice said again. “Open your eyes my child.”

  I cracked open my eyes slowly, and was greeted by a world void of light. The only indication that my eyes actually were open was the strain one has when trying to keep their eyelids ajar on less than an hour of sleep. But the small feeling made a spark of hope inside me. I could feel it. I may have not been dead.

  “Very good child, now arise, and face me,” the voice hummed. Filled with an urge to obey the voice, I forced my stone arms to move, though their sluggish movements were like rusted door hinges. As I tried to sit up however, a deathly pain ripped through my torso, and with a yelp I grabbed it.

  “Child, do not be afraid of the pain,” the voice said, and I directed my eyes towards it. “Take my hand.”

  Out of the darkness a glowing white hand emerged and reached out to me. I was confused, but I felt completely at ease. My usual wariness seemed to dissipate, because I felt nothing but trust. With a trembling grip, I took it.

  Warmth flooded throughout my body, the pain disappearing as the wound patched itself back together and my heart began its steady beat once again. My vision began to clear, and the white hand grew an arm, then a torso followed by an entire body. I was pulled up onto my feet as I looked upon a face in which was not a face, but a blank surface. It was not terrifying, but strangely beautiful.

  “Am I dead?” the question panged against my skull, but the person simply shook their head. I might have been imagining it, but I could feel as if they were smiling, though I could not see it.

  “It may have been extremely convincing, but I simply slowed your heart beat and your breathing to make Velkire believe you were dead,” it said, and my head practically exploded in wonder.

  “Who are you?” I asked. The person smiled at me.

  “I have many names, dear child.” The words hung in the air with a sweet tone. “But the one you are familiar with is the Healer.” I didn’t know how long the silence lasted after that, but I was so shocked I couldn’t break it. It could have lasted anywhere between seconds to hours. I had so many questions and accusations for the one who called themself the Healer, the one who had started all this and yet could stop it with ease. But the only thing that I could clearly make out from my jumbled thoughts was a solitary question that seemed more important than anything else.

  “Why did you do this?” I accused as my voice began to rise, referencing to myself. The resentment of myself and my power had finally led me to believe that I was an abomination, flawed beyond anything good. Rejection had finally turned into bitter hate and anger, and I had someone to pin the blame on. “Why did you do this to me, and make me a monster!”

  The Healer shook his head. “My child, your gift does not make you a monster. It is a part of you, and it is what makes you. I created you this way, and it is the only way you can be.”

  “The only way I can be?” I could feel anger welling up inside me and alongside it guilt. I didn’t want to see him angry at me, as if getting mad something punishable. The one thing I knew was that my rage didn’t feel right. “Why? Is it because I need to defeat Velkire? Or is there anyone else I’m supposed to kill!”

  “Scarlet, you were not born to kill Velkire,” the Healer said, and my argument was caught in my throat. “I may have given you the power to kill him Scarlet, but it is up to you whether or not to rid this world of him. It is true that it is the task I have set before you, and I am calling you to it, but you are so much more than a simple solution.” My anger left my body like a bursting dam. My entire body shook as I dropped to my knees.

  “I…I’m scared…” My voice sounded so weak and fragile that I hardly recognized it. I felt the Healer’s hand on my shoulder and I felt like a small child lost in an unfamiliar world. The Healer embraced me, and an intense sense of safety overwhelmed me.

  “Trust in me, my child,” the words seemed to echo, yet at the same time were as soft as a whisper. “Trust in me, and I shall deliver you from your trials. I hold the world in my hand, and I shall not abandon you. Trust in me always, and I will be with you.” I lost my mistrusting nature. I had been offered safety. I decided to take it.

  “…What can I do to defeat him?” I asked slowly. It was insane, but I didn’t just believe every word the Healer said to me, I knew it was true.

  ~

  I could feel my entire body and the feeling of weight was something alien after being in weightless space with the Healer. I felt damp stone beneath me as devastated crying met my ears. Slowly I opened my eyes to find Madam Gale holding me, weeping. With a sore hand I touched the old woman’s face. Her mouth broke into a smile as she touched my hand as her face fille
d with recognition.

  “You’re alive,” she whimpered.

  “Of course I am, you old bag,” I giggled dryly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  “Scarlet,” the sudden grave voice caught my attention immediately, and my eyes bore into the old Bookworm’s. “Your brother is here, and he is after Velkire as we speak.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he saw you, Scarlet,” Madam Gale said solemnly. “He thinks you are dead.”

  “I have to stop him or he’ll die!” I looked around the cell desperately, but saw no way out. “Can you get me out of here?” The Bookworm and Madam Gale shook their heads.

  “Velkire cursed our shackles,” Madam Gale sighed as she lifted up her chained hands. “Both of our powers are gone. It is quite likely if we try to remove them without our powers returning, we will die.”

  I got up, releasing myself from Madam Gale’s weak arms. I was pleased to find that though my dress was torn and bloodstained, my wounds had completely disappeared and the unfinished pentagram had faded slightly beneath the chain patterened seal. Fire laced my hands, the flames gleefully licking my cold skin.

  “I’ll come back for both of you, I swear,” I promised, turning to the iron bars. I placed my flaming hands on two and melted them into a soft shell of their former selves, bending back just enough so that I could fit through.

  “Scarlet, wait!” the Bookworm called out to me. “You’re not ready to fight Velkire!” I bit my lip, and looked back at Draco Hale.

  “Have a little faith, Bookworm,” I said with a slight smile, but the worry lines on his face deepened. “I may surprise you.”

  Before either of them could say anything else, I jumped through the bars and raced down the hallway of the dungeon. The only thing on my mind was that my brother was after Velkire. I knew what I had to do to save both of us. I had to kill Velkire.