Kaijin exhaled a relieved sigh. “Oh, it’s only you.” Smiling, he rubbed Percival’s back. Never had he seen such a species of weasel with such coarse fur and a tail nearly longer than its body, and it intrigued him. “You’re a sly little fellow, aren’t you?”
Percival chirped and then scampered to Omari, climbing up his back and settling on his shoulders.
Omari glanced up from his book to the weasel, and then to Kaijin.
“You have such an interesting familiar, Omari,” Kaijin said.
Omari stroked Percival under the chin. “Percival is a long-tailed sand weasel. He and I have been inseparable since I was a child. I daresay your familiar is just as strange.”
Kaijin smiled. “Miele is a fruit bat.”
“Yes, I can see that. Though she is rather small for a fruit bat.”
“Yes, odd, I know. She seemed much bigger when I first met her, back when I was a boy. It’s as if I kept growing and she stayed the same size. Or maybe she shrank....”
Omari chuckled. “She did not shrink. You grew. She did not. It is normal. Do not ask me why. It is the nature of some familiars.”
“Very strange.”
“Perhaps the magical bonds between a familiar and its master have something to do with its growth. I really do not know. It is a mystery that even the masters have not been able to unravel. Why are you worried, anyway? Do you not realize how big fruit bats are? Miele certainly would not be able to sit on your shoulder as she does now.” Omari grinned, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.
Kaijin took a moment to scrutinize Omari’s appearance by the glow of the reading light. He looked slightly older than Kaijin, but not by much—a few years, perhaps. Omari was lean and athletic in build. His angular features and especially his slightly slanted eyes and high cheekbones reminded Kaijin of his mother. A string of black tattoos ran from the left side of Omari’s hairless head down his left cheek to his jawline. He was dressed extravagantly, in long, flowing turquoise robes emblazoned with abstract designs along the hem. A symbol, which Kaijin didn’t recognize, was embroidered prominently on the sides of the garment’s shoulders. Omari emanated a strong odor of ozone, as though he’d been struck by lightning. The smell wasn’t too overwhelming, however, and Kaijin was soon able to ignore it.
Omari closed his spellbook and laid it aside. He dismissed the light, then ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes sleepily.
“So, why are you really looking for a Dragon, anyway?” Kaijin asked.
Omari paused and looked between his fingers at Kaijin, then dropped his hands from his face. “That is none of your business, Kaijin.”
“Something tells me you’ll be walking right into trouble.”
Omari sneered. “And what is it to you? Why in the confounded hells would you care?”
“I don’t.” Kaijin shrugged lightly. “I’m just curious about what a Dragon would want with you.”
Omari grumbled. He fished in his bag, pulled out a small handful of rations, and held it out in front of Percival.
Kaijin briefly bounced his gaze from Omari to Percival, who happily nibbled on the nuts and dried fruit, then fixed his gaze on Omari, awaiting his response.
Their eyes met, and Omari frowned.“I see you will not stop pestering me about it until I tell you. If you really must know, I need to have my staff enchanted by the Dragon that lives atop one of the peaks of the Mallowyn Crags.”
“Truly?” Kaijin blinked. What an adventure that must be. “That sounds very ... perilous.”
“It has been, thus far, but I feel as though I am very close. In order to be deemed a full-fledged mage at the Citadel, one must undergo a series of tests—for example, tests of strength, skill, perseverance, and wisdom, among many others.”
Kaijin nodded slowly. I wonder if a Dragon would know about the orb? “Why must you do this alone? And why a Dragon?”
Omari rolled his eyes and huffed. “Because that is what the masters instructed! I must do this alone if I am to pass my test.” He raised his nose at Kaijin. “But someone like you would not understand that.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone who is not a student of the Citadel.”
“Surely, they didn’t mean for you to venture across these hazardous lands alone. That’s why they sent escorts with you, yes?”
Omari opened his mouth then quickly closed it, retracting his initial reply. “Well ... yes. What is your point?”
Kaijin thought a moment. It was a sound plan. A Dragon with all its wisdom would be the perfect one to consult. Besides, who on Exodus would not, in their lifetime, want to meet one of the goddess’s greatest creations? “Perhaps we should travel together.”
“You hardly even know me, Kaijin.”
“Does it matter?”
Omari thought for a moment. “No, I suppose not.”
XIII
Aidan watched the first signs of dawn peek over the horizon and realized he had only a few minutes left before his watch was over. With no further incidents happening during the night, he took the opportunity to get a few extra winks of sleep. He nestled beneath the willow tree, the only spot around camp he found remotely comfortable, and closed his eyes.
His brief nap no sooner began than it was interrupted by Nester’s unintelligible muttering. Aidan opened his eyes and spotted the brownie in the branches above.
Nester’s pointed ears twitched as he huddled on a sturdy branch, sleeping soundly despite his position. The morning light touched his eyes, and he shifted to his side, moving his face away from the light, mumbling incoherently. His ears twitched again as he groaned and turned on to his back, sending leaves fluttering toward the ground.
Aidan swatted away the shower of willow leaves that tickled his tough skin. He turned his attention to the rest of the camp, where Omari, Zarya, and Kaijin lay near the ashy remains of the campfire.
Aidan sniffed once and turned his head. Outside the camp, he spotted shadowy movement.
“Oy, what a night,” Nester mumbled from above.
Aidan half-watched from out of the corner of his eye as the brownie leapt nimbly from the branches and landed beside him. Aidan’s attention stayed riveted on the shadows. “Strange. Aidan smells honeysuckle again.”
“Aye? Well Zarya’s sleepin’ way over there. Your nose must be keener than a ’ound’s, it is.”
Aidan shook his head. “No, it is not Zarya—at least, Aidan does not think so.”
The nearby bushes rustled, and Nester started. Aidan tensed. A figure emerged from the shadows and approached them, silhouetted by the morning sun. A tiny glint of light played over the steel edge of an arrowhead.
Startled, Nester reached into his boot and slowly withdrew a small shiv. “This ain’t exactly what I wanted to wake up to this mornin’, mate,” he muttered.
Aidan grabbed Nester by the jerkin and tugged him backwards. “Wait,” he whispered, frowning from the brownie’s actions. Aidan snorted once and narrowed his eyes at the stranger. “The honeysuckle. That smell is coming from him.”
“Wha—? The one who ’as an arrow aimed straight at us?!”
“Yes. Now, stay your weapon, Nester.”
“But—!”
The stranger, who kept his arrow nocked and aimed at them, stepped into the open light. The man’s features were almost unnaturally perfect. His pure white skin looked silky and smooth, devoid of blemishes. On the breast of his worn, shoddy traveler’s clothes was embroidered a stylized symbol of a Dragon.
His slanted, silvery eyes glittered in the light as he stared at Aidan. “Darasv? Svabole wux tyrryr tenpiswo?” His deep, gruff, throaty voice rolled every syllable in an animalistic way.
‘Half-Dragon’? Do they mean me? Aidan blinked and tilted his head, somehow recognizing and understanding the language—a language that sounded so clear to him, much more than Common, and he didn’t know why or how. “Yugon ve?” he replied. “‘Darasv’?”
The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “Batybot ui svabole wux
re, ui coiy ti?”
Aidan opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it and glanced askance at Nester.
“What in th’ soddin’ ’ells is all that gibberish?” The brownie looked between the stranger and Aidan, bewildered. “Sounds like nothin’ but growlin’ an’ snarlin’!”
“He is wondering why Aidan is here, Nester,” Aidan muttered, not taking his gaze off the archer.
“You mean, you actually understand all that?”
Aidan ignored Nester’s question. “Nomexnoi resija thuryrli. Petrynas puxdout laraek mojka. Yth jatyli thric levniym.”
The stranger’s thin lips pursed, and he slowly lowered his weapon.
Aidan bowed his head. “Thank you, sir.”
“So, my ears were not deceiving me before. You can speak Common,” the man said.
Nester scoffed. “You call that ‘Common’? It’s ’ard enough tryin’ to understand ’alf th’ soddin’ things ’e says!”
Aidan turned to the brownie. “Aidan speaks Common just fine.”
“See! There you go again! For once, can’t you just—” Nester stopped in mid-sentence.
Aidan turned back around to see what bothered Nester, and two more figures appeared behind the stranger. Steel glinted and magic shimmered from them.
“Look out!” Nester warned the archer. He flung his shiv toward one of the figures, who grunted.
The archer gasped. He re-aimed his bow at the brownie and loosed an arrow.
Aidan heard a grunt beside him and turned. Nester lay on the ground clutching an injury in his arm from which blood was already beginning to trickle.
* * *
Kaijin awoke to the sounds of a commotion. Opening his eyes, he discovered Aidan faced off against an armored swordsman and a woman wielding magic, while Nester lay pinned to the ground under the foot of an archer. Kaijin looked to Omari and Zarya, who had both sprung up, observed the fray a moment, then rushed to assist Aidan and Nester. Kaijin stood, about to follow, when he paused and looked to the orange-painted sky. He heard Miele shriek and saw her silhouette flutter out of sight.
“What’s going on? What do you see?” Kaijin felt a sharp pang in his mind.
Groaning, he closed his eyes. He briefly saw the sky before whipping around to an aerial view of the camp. He could see the intruders—two men and one woman—bearing weapons and magic. The swordsman and mage flanked Aidan, while the archer towered over Nester, aiming an arrow at his face. The scene zoomed toward the archer, and Kaijin felt alarmed. The erratic images made him sick to his stomach, and he sensed Miele’s panic.
The faster they descended, the harder his heart pounded, until they collided violently with the archer’s face. The archer screamed in pain, and as they zoomed away, he saw blood dripping from a wound across the bridge of the archer’s nose. Nester leaped up and fled, and the sky once again filled his vision.
“Miele? Where are you? Where am I? Am I flying? What’s going on?” Kaijin heard a high-pitched screech in his mind in response, and suddenly he was plummeting again.
Again, they flew at the injured archer, his eyes wide with fright, who fumbled with his bow and took aim—that time in Kaijin’s direction.
Kaijin saw the archer launch the arrow, and the scene immediately shifted back to the sky, climbing higher again, away from the danger. “Miele! Was he aiming at you? What’s happening?”
Sharp pain lanced through his mind, followed by the sensation of his heart dropping into his stomach. The red-orange skies spun above, and then, everything went black.
* * *
Kaijin gasped and quickly opened his eyes. He clutched at his chest, instinctively gripping the glowing necklace beneath his robes. He gazed at the battle scene from where he lay and spotted the archer yanking an arrow from the soil. Kaijin groaned. The pain in his mind was unbearable. He tried to contact Miele, but he was unable to focus.
He saw Nester, Zarya, Omari, and Aidan lying lifelessly on the ground.
“Thank Celestra your magic stopped them in time, Sephiya,” the archer said to the female mage.
Sephiya knelt down and picked up Miele’s limp body from the ground, then locked her gaze on Kaijin.
The archer rubbed the open wound on his nose, stroking it until it magically mended. Turning, he assessed the unconscious bodies. “They didn’t give us much of a choice, it seems. It’s unfortunate that a half-Dragon and even one of our own had to get caught up in this bloodshed.”
The male warrior limped over to Nester and prodded him gently with his foot. The brownie didn’t move. The warrior glared at him for a moment, then gripped the hilt of a tiny dart that was lodged in an opening in the metal plating of his armor. With a groan, he yanked it out.
“Sigmund, are you all right?” the archer asked, approaching the warrior.
Sigmund nodded and examined the bloody shiv briefly before tossing it aside. “Nothing vital. I will survive.” Placing his hand over the injury, he closed his eyes. A faint, blue light glowed from his fingers and suffused the wound, mending. “I don’t see any Legion marks on the brownie. What about the others?”
The archer rolled Omari over, uncovering Percival, who lay beneath. The weasel was curled up in a tight ball, shivering. “We will probably have to strip them all down to find out.”
“There’s no time, Evan,” Sephiya said. “They will only sleep for a short while. Our sister and the half-Dragon will awaken much sooner.”
They are alive? Kaijin eyed his companions once more. Part of him was relieved, but it didn’t counter his wariness of what their fate—and possibly his—would soon be.
“If they are not Legionnaires, then we must question them,” Evan said. “They may know something about the recent killing.”
Sigmund huffed. “And if they are Legionnaires, then this will not remain hidden from the Mistress.”
The Mistress—do they mean the goddess?
Sephiya rubbed her chin. “I think it’s best we let Her make that assessment.”
“I’m still wary about bringing these people into Her lands,” Evan said. “At this point, however, we’ve little choice. We can’t just let them go now.”
Sephiya approached Kaijin.
Kaijin lay on his side and didn’t move. He stared helplessly at the slender woman who drew nearer and studied him. Her unnatural perfection gave her a strong resemblance to Zarya. He felt drawn to her beauty, yet something about her repelled him. In her hands lay Miele, bloody and with a fresh arrow wound in her chest.
Kaijin gasped softly. His mouth barely moved as he murmured, “Mi ... mi ... ele ...” He shuddered and held his own chest again. Though he had no physical wounds, the pain felt real. Why is this happening?
As if in answer to his question, memories of his youth flooded in.
“She is your familiar—an extension of yourself. Any harm that befalls her will incur extremely painful consequences in you.”
“What kind of consequences, Master?”
“Think of it like cutting off your own arm. Stabbing yourself in the chest. The shock is unbearable. You will feel her pain amplified. Words cannot explain the horrific sensation.”
Kaijin blinked out of his trance and realized Sephiya was still staring at him. She tilted her head, her glittering, diamond-like eyes darting from him to Miele and back again.
“Yours, I presume?” she asked in a soft, yet commanding tone.
The throbbing pain that shot through Kaijin rendered him unable to speak, and he let out a loud groan in response.
“No matter. You’re coming with us, as well.”
Kaijin finally succumbed to the pain. His eyes shut, and he felt his body go limp.
The last thing Kaijin heard was the woman’s distant voice uttering a single word: “Teleporto.”
XIV
Intense heat roused Kaijin. He stared up at the hazy, amber-hued sky, which flickered as if it were on fire. He turned his head, letting his cheek rest upon the flat ground. Flames danced all around his body, yet they di
dn’t burn him. He felt alone, at peace.
The land, the same color as the sky, was barren and charred, yet it somehow burned constantly and stoked small fires that intermittently appeared and disappeared at random. Smoke made Kaijin’s eyes burn. Strangely enough, he could taste ozone, its tangy bite in his throat as he breathed.
Kaijin looked back at the landscape. Where am I? The bed of fire he lay in was soothing and warm. Its comfort sparked memories of being in his mother’s arms. Not wanting to leave the flames’ heavenly embrace, Kaijin simply lay there, relishing the sounds of their crackles and snaps in his ears.
A sizzling sound grew louder.
Looking sideway, he saw a pair of burly inhuman legs, adorned with ornate golden cuffs, approaching him. The creature was barefoot, revealing a set of ashen-grey claws protruding from stubby toes. Its red-orange skin had a rough texture that blended with the surrounding flames. The creature’s feet hissed when they touched the ground, and each step caught one of the fires, leaving a smoldering, extinguished spot.
Kaijin looked up the being’s solid frame and was momentarily blinded by the shimmer of the brass scimitar it held in its clawed hand.
Wincing, Kaijin closed his eyes. When he reopened them, the creature stood over him, staring intently and snorting plumes of grey smoke from its nostrils. Its massive form, taller than any man and broader than a bull, overshadowed Kaijin, eclipsing him.
Kaijin heard the being’s heavy breathing and felt its unsettling closeness. The strange ozone odor grew stronger. As Kaijin locked eyes with the creature, he shivered at the sight of its face. Its broad, flat snout wrinkled into a sneer to reveal a set of razor-sharp fangs. Two large black horns protruded from its head and curved upwards, and its frayed, pointed ears were adorned with brass rings.
The air around the creature shimmered from the heat of its body. It flexed its muscles, and Kaijin noticed a small mark branded on one of its bulging biceps. Recognizing the symbol, Kaijin’s mouth slowly dropped open in shock. Ignis!
Enflamed (Book 2) Page 14