Wielder of the Flame

by Nikolas Rex

  A gut wrenching pain filled Topar and his knees felt weak. But he stood firm to hold the boy in his arms.

  Demar took the boy from Topar’s grip and went into the spare bedroom to lay the boy down. Topar did not move for a long time. Finally he shuffled stiffly to Eleanor and knelt down to comfort her. He could not think of more to do than gently pat her back.

  Demar returned to the main room, “Topar,”

  The rovaar stood.

  “Now that Sesuadra is safe I must depart to ensure a number of other things continue as planned. Before I go, I will leave an enchantment on this place for further safekeeping.”

  Topar nodded but did not move.

  “Topar, you must come with me, I will have to teach you how the magic works or you will be unable to use it while I am gone.”

  He nodded.

  ***

  Noises coming from the back door brought the large rovaar from his reverie. Eleanor! Was his first thought.

  Topar immediately left his bedroom and rushed his way to the main room where the back door was.

  He burst into the main room to see a rain soaked Zildjin, Sesuadra, and Eleanor, along with some stranger placing an either unconscious or dead Marc on the table.

  Eleanor glanced up to see her friend come into the room.

  Topar glanced over at the stranger and Eleanor spoke quickly to ease the rovaar.

  “He means us no harm, the boys said he saved Marcus,” Eleanor said, “I saw them coming in from the side gate where I was attending the aldoms and ran to greet them. Quickly, some dry clothes for the boy.”

  Topar nodded his head, her word more than enough for him, and turned back around into the hallway.

  “So cold,” Zildjin said, running his hands through his long wet gangly hair.

  “Yes,” Eleanor nodded, “some warm drinks for the belly,”

  ***

  Soon enough everyone was dry. Marc was still asleep, now in clean dry clothes, and in his bed.

  Everyone else but Eleanor was sitting at the table downstairs, a hot drink in front of them. The stranger was remaining silent until Eleanor came down. Topar was watching him warily, but Zildjin and Sesuadra seemed just fine with the stranger’s presence.

  Finally Eleanor was descending the stairs to the main room.

  Topar met her eyes as she stepped down the last stair. Topar did not need to ask the question everyone had on their minds.

  “He breathes the slow and steady breaths of a deep sleep, and cannot be roused from it, otherwise, he seems fine.”

  She sat down at the table, across from the stranger.

  “I suppose now would be the time for me to introduce myself.”

  They all nodded.

  “My name is Cydas, Ardusk of Fallhaven.”

  “Fallhaven,” Topar grunted, “I know it well.”

  Eleanor nodded, “My husband and Topar passed through Fallhaven many a time.”

  “Relic hunters?” Cydas guessed.

  Eleanor nodded again.

  Zildjin and Sesuadra both listened quietly. Eleanor had spoken of Fallhaven. They knew it was the farthest outpost still inhabitable by mankind, the last bit of civilization before reaching true Wildlands. It was a must go to spot for relic hunters, a place for making one final stop before seeking out their treasures.

  “And why have you travelled here all this way?”

  “And how did you do so at the precise time Marc was about to be killed,” Zildjin said.

  “I thought you would have known already,” Eleanor said, looking over at Zildjin.

  “We did not have much time to talk since that blinding light enveloped Marcus.”

  “Wait,” Topar interrupted, “Marcus was the cause of that light?”

  “Please,” Cydas said, drawing everyone’s attention, “All of this can be explained, just allow me to speak.”

  “Of course,” Eleanor gestured.

  “It all began when The Keeper arrived in Fallhaven with his last dying breath to deliver a message, and a map, to the Oracle.”

  “The Oracle?” Eleanor asked.

  “The Keeper?” Zildjin inquired at the same time.

  “Yes,” Cydas responded to Eleanor, “The Oracle. As for the Keeper,” he continued, “he was the last good Ascendant Sage.”

  ***

  Marc awoke surrounded by heavy swirling mist.

  He was lying down and yet he felt as if his body was hovering over the ground and moving swiftly backwards. He could feel the tendrils of mist sliding over his body like a waterfall pouring over him in slow-motion. He moved his arms behind him, trying to feel the ground beneath him, the silvery grey floor that should’ve been there, but he merely grasped at more mist.

  He moved his head and immediately regretted it. An overwhelming sensation of vertigo swarmed his senses.

  Suddenly he felt himself sitting.

  The mist began to recede, leaving him alone on the shiny silvery endless plane.

  Where is Sesuadra? was his first thought, Sesuadra is usually always here at least.

  But his friend was nowhere to be seen.

  He shuddered as he remembered the wizard with that stranger’s sword sticking out of him. Marc had never been so close to death. It was different than what he witnessed through the media he used to consume. He felt he should be more shocked by it, affected somehow, but most of his energy was focused on understanding the magic and power that had come from the sword.

  The Sword.

  He looked down at himself.

  He was dressed in the clothes Eleanor had made him and he was completely dry. His sword was sheathed at his side.

  Except that the sword was different now. It was immaculately clean and polished. He could see his own reflection in it. The cut on his cheek was gone. In fact he looked better than he had in a long while, if only a little tired.

  A soft glowing light made him look up from his reflection.

  A small shape lay nearby him.

  At first he did not recognize what it was. A golden light emanated faintly from within and around it. Then it moved a wing and lifted its head from underneath the wing.

  It was a small bird.

  It could fit in the crook of his arms it was so small and delicate looking.

  The bird looked up at him, locking eyes with him. He felt a warmth flow through him. He felt all the fear and hate and all the negative things from his paste dissipate within the eyes of the creature. He felt his eyes begin to water with emotion.

  “Hey there,” he whispered gently to the bird.

  He reached out a hand tentatively, wondering if it would be okay to touch the bird.

  It closed its eyes and extended its head.

  Marc touched the bird’s soft fluffy feather fuzz on its head.

  There was a blinding flash of white light and then.

  Darkness.

  ***

  Marcus?

  He heard someone calling his name.

  Marcus!

  It was the voice of a girl and he recognized it.

  He opened his eyes slowly.

  “Marcus,”

  It was Laura.

  He was still a little dazed and did not know what to say, especially at the sight of her beautiful face.

  She helped him sit up.

  Her fingers brushed the bare skin of the back of his head and he felt his heart flutter. Though her hands barely touched him he felt every little contact with her. Marc didn’t really blush but he knew if he did he would’ve been beet red. This was the closest he had ever been to a pretty girl.

  It was evening; the sun was creeping towards the horizon.

  “Are you alright?” Laura asked.

  He noticed her hands were still on his back and knee.

  He thought he was going to die of her overwhelming feminine beauty. Sure she stank, it was clear she had not washed in a while, but so did he, or at least he thought he did. But was this his body? Or merely a projection of himself? He still wasn’t sure. Her clos
eness triggered his senses to focus on several things about her, her shape, and her cool hand on his warm skin. He thought he was in heaven. Was this a dream? Or was this real? Was this like the other visions and he was destined to return to his body at any moment? Were all the visions he had before real? If he was in a dream, where was his real body? Back with Zildjin and Sesuadra. But then why did he feel so completely alive and real right now with this beautiful girl? She wore the same black, green, and gold robes as before but they were torn and dirty and she was missing one of the sleeves.

  She realized that he was taking notice at her touch and withdrew her hands shyly.

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing his head, “Yeah, I think I’m okay,” he paused, trying to gather his words, “How did I— you—?” He didn’t really know what to say. Not just because she was so beautiful, but because of the experience he had just been through.

  She seemed to understand his question anyway, “I know not how you have come here to visit me again, but as to how I came here,” She paused, “Well, I have a gift.”

  He looked around as she spoke, taking in his surroundings and her words.

  A large waterfall was nearby. The sound of rushing water was loud, and yet soothing. Mountains and cliffs loomed overhead behind him. In front of him was a valley of green rolling hills with thin wooded areas here and there. Towering high into the sky above them was a sight unlike anything he had seen before. It was as if a city had been caught inside a spider web of arched bridges between two massive pillar shaped mountains. The bridges spanned both pillars, connecting with more towers and buildings that were coming out of the pillars themselves. It all defied the law of gravity as Marc knew it, and it was an impressive sight. The red-violet rays of sun caught the walls and sides of the bridges spectacularly, making everything seem to glow. The waterfall tumbled some far distance below the lowest bridge spanning the two pillars. They were situated in a small wooded area in the middle of a clearing. Marc saw a sort of dwelling covered by large leaves underneath a few trees. A bedding of leaves was made up underneath the cover.

  “It is quite magnificent,” Laura saw him staring up at the city, “The ruins of Zheund.”

  “Ruins?” he asked, “How could that be called ruins?”

  “It was once a great deal more than just what you see a city that enveloped the whole of this valley, some say.”

  He looked at her. Her hair fell over her shoulders like the waterfall nearby.

  “You were saying something about a gift?”

  She nodded.

  “Come with me,” she said, giving him her hand, “I think it will be better if I show you,”

  He took her hand. Her skin was smooth. He felt his heart flutter again.

  “Follow me,” She gestured towards the waterfall.

  Then she seemed to momentarily lose her courage and let his hand drop, fidgeting with her own hands then, trying to find something else to do with them.

  Oh how I wish to hold it though.

  They both thought.

  The rushing water grew louder as they approached, and yet it was soothing. The forest undergrowth was unusually thick were Laura walked. They struggled through, parting branches and stepping over fallen logs.

  “This isn’t exactly a pathway,” Marc noted.

  “Just wait,” She replied. She could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

  Finally they broke free from the underbrush to a small jut of rock coming out of one of the cliff faces. It was not too far a fall but jagged rocks poked out of the large pool below. Water cascaded over the cliff, spray spattered against the stone. The outcrop seemed to lead to nowhere.

  Laura stepped out onto it.

  “This seems dangerous,” He noted.

  He practically had to shout over the roar of the waterfall. He could feel himself starting to get wet from the splashing of the falls, but it felt good, cleansing.

  She continued on, not seeming to hear him. She was getting wet as well, more so as she passed under.

  “Laura!” Marc hissed.

  She quickly disappeared behind the waterfall.

  “Laura?” He called.

  Nothing.

  Is she alright?

  After a moment or two she appeared again, smiling. He was relieved. It was impossible not to notice the fact that her wet clothes hugged her body very closely. Marc forced himself not to stare; he didn’t want to seem rude. She gestured for Marc to go under the falls as she had done. He shrugged and followed her lead, just as the last threads of light were disappearing.

  The waterfall roared over him, quickly soaking him. He had to closely hug the wall as he moved.

  Finally he was through.

  Laura was there. It was dark but his eyes were rapidly adjusting to compensate.

  The roar was deafening. Laura opened her mouth as if she was going to speak but she shook her head and pointed to the waterfall. Marc understood she didn’t want to try shouting over the crashing water.

  And then she took his hand again.

  He felt tingly all over. A calmness spread over him, a warmness that counteracted the cold feeling from having gone underneath the fall. He smiled.

  She led him through a small opening into a tunnel in the rock. For a long while all he could see was darkness. But he could feel her hand and that was enough for him.

  After what felt like ten or fifteen minutes to Marc there began to appear a light at the end of the tunnel. The roar of the waterfall was now nothing more than a dull hum in the distance behind them. The light began to grow brighter until it was a golden sparkling glow. He began to see Laura more and more clearly.

  There was an opening up ahead

  Laura stopped and leaned forward towards him to whisper. He held his breath. Her scent poured over him.

  “We have to be extremely quiet when we reach the overlook there,” Her voice was barely above a whisper, “I have a special magic,” She began to explain, “I can move in the blink of an eye distances that would take a man many a fortnight to walk.”

  He looked a little surprised, “Teleportation?”

  She did not know what that meant but continued speaking, “I came here only a few days ago by accident. This place, the Ruins of Zheund, is deep within the Wildlands, far from any city or town that I know of. I arrived in the dark, confused and dazed and stumbled in the blackness, I almost fell to my death. But I was rescued, twice, by a Fae One. They built me a little dwelling, the one you saw back there, and for the past few days have brought me food, fruits and nuts. I have been trying to return home for several days, but I have not yet been able to. Then, last night, I followed the Fae Ones to this place. I do not think anyone has seen this place for many, many ages.”

  She nodded her head in the direction of the opening and they moved forward carefully.

  She motioned to get low and lay down on her belly herself. Marc followed suit. They inched forward, the light grew brighter.

  Finally, they peeked over the rock and down at the most amazing scene he had ever witnessed.

  It was a lush little grove laid out in a large cavern which almost completely covered it except for a few cracks above in the ceiling where the starry night sky and moons shown through. There were thick vines creeping along the wall up to and through the openings with large wide leaves of the most vibrant green. Flowers of all colors and varieties blossomed everywhere. A small pool sat in the center of the area. But the lively flora was not the most amazing thing. All around the space little glowing beings with vivid multihued wings floated all about the cavern. A sort of miniature village was constructed there, covering the entire cavern floor. The hovering creatures went about the little structures and holes carved into the stone. They talked with each other, some ate, some worked, and some slept, but all seemed content and safe in their goings on. The air was crisp and clean and the temperature of the small cave was neither too hot or too cold. The flowers gave off a strong, but not overbearing, smell that Marc imagined he would find at a flower
shop.

  Marc touched Laura’s shoulder and she looked into his eyes. He showed her his amazement through his facial expressions and she nodded knowingly, a smile across her face.

  He carefully and slowly scooted backward motioning for her to follow.

  She did so.

  When they thought they were at a safe enough distance to whisper without giving away that they were there Marc leaned near her and whispered,

  “What are they?”

  “Little spirits, the Fae Ones!” she whispered excitedly back, “Marc, they are not supposed to exist anymore!”

  “What do you mean?”

  Make-believe Fairies was not strange to Marc.

  “What do you mean what do I mean?”

  “I come from a faraway place, a lot of things I don’t understand here.”

  She nodded, trying to comprehend, “The Fae Ones used to thrive abundantly, roaming the lands freely and peaceably, spreading harmony and goodness to all they touched. They are thought to have been completely obliterated in the first cycle of the War of Power.”

  “But here they are,” He said.

  “But here they are,” She confirmed.

  Then Marc remembered, “Zildjin,” he said, “My friend, he received an ancient relic with the engraving of a fairy—Fae One, on it. Then my other friend Sesuadra said that anyone who would glimpse a Fae One would be extremely lucky.”

  Laura shook her head, “I do not believe that something like this has to do with luck. I think that a force greater than I could ever imagine has come forth to bring us together to this place, at this time.”

  They turned suddenly as a light appeared before them.

  A group of the little floating people hovered about head height in front of them.

  Marc stood frozen. They had been discovered! They hadn’t been lead here by one of the little Faeries, had they broken some sort of law? What kind of trouble had they started?

  But the little floating beings did not try and chase them away, did not fly at them angrily. Their movements were so gentle. They were beautiful little creatures, humanlike in appearance with long hair in different vibrant colors that moved as if underwater, but they did not appear to have a particular gender. They were adorned with bracelets, necklaces, and trinkets, and delicate flowing robes. Their pale skin glowed with a comforting light. They were so small Marc could hold a single one of them in one of his palms. The closest fairy seemed taller than the others, adorned with longer, heavier robes and had dark blue hair. It floated towards them, looking at Marc, and then Laura. It motioned with its arm and head to come with them back to their village. Then it turned and began floating back with the others to the cavern.