Wielder of the Flame

by Nikolas Rex

  Marc looked at Laura and she looked back. Marc shrugged, then followed the Faeries, Laura reached out and took his hand again. He smiled back at her at her touch.

  They soon arrived at the little overlook peering down at the Fairy village. As they approached the taller fairy directed some of the others down to the rock. The little beings split off into two groups, floating down, and knelt on the surface of the rock. They touched the ground and the rock began to glow and a sort of calming hum filled the air. Marc and Laura watched in wonder as steps began forming out of the rock like clay being shaped by unseen hands. Slowly at first, and then more quickly a staircase began to emerge, just the right size for Marc and Laura to descend into the little village. All the Fae Ones in the village began to gather in a circle around the large pool of water in the center of the cavern. The blue haired fairy directed Marc and Laura to follow it to the center.

  In total awe of the wonder and magic around him Marc, hand in hand with Laura, slowly walked down the staircase, following the blue haired fairy. With each step he felt a little bit warmer, and calmer, like snuggling up under a blanket next to a fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter night. A number of Fae Ones floated by Laura and him, they placed necklaces and bracelets on Marc and her, giving them their gifts. The glow from the faeries and the rock grew brighter as they approached the center. A path began to magically appear through the village, faeries lined up on each side and they dipped their head as Marc and Laura walked forward.

  As they reached the pool Marc paused. The water was very clear allowing him to see that the pool was quite deep. Seeming to understand his concern, the blue haired fairy floated down to his feet and waved a hand over his and Laura’s boots, which began to take on a glow. The fairy motioned for them to enter the pool to the center of the circle of glowing beings.

  Marc glanced at Laura and she shrugged. Marc nodded his head and took a tentative step forward. Though it should have, his foot did not sink underneath the surface of the water. Awestruck, he took another step, Laura followed close behind.

  Finally they were in the center of the pool. All the faeries were gathered around the pool now, all linked together to form a circle. The blue haired fairy hovered in front of him and Laura, it began to glow brightly, brighter than the others. Marc felt filled with a very powerful feeling of comfort and strength in the presence of this fairy. He suddenly thought he should be a bit more respectful and he knelt down. He stayed on the surface of the water, though he felt it lapping against his clothes as he moved. Laura followed his lead, kneeling by him. They still had their hands cupping each other.

  Then the blue haired fairy floated down and gestured to see their hands. Marc and Laura let go of each other’s hand and held them up to show the fairy. The Fae One put a tiny little hand on the tip of Marc’s finger. Immediately Marc felt an increase the strength he had felt before and he felt a hint of his own power, of the fire from the dream. Then the Fae One put his other hand on Laura’s finger, linking Marc and Laura together. Marc suddenly felt another presence within his mind’s eye. It was Laura. And then for some reason he knew she could feel him too, she could feel the fire within him. The circle of Fae Ones began to glow brighter, and they began to flap their tiny little wings, rising up slowly. The blue haired fairy who was touching Marc and Laura’s fingers lifted its head back and opened its mouth. A wonderful sound, like a note in a melody escaped, ringing in the air with a beautiful tone. The others chimed in. It was music, magnificent, magical, and yet it was more than music, it was something that transcended anything Marc had ever before heard. As the faeries slowly rose, the sound rose, the lights grew brighter, and the power coursing from the blue haired fairy into Marc and Laura grew greater. Magical lights began floating all around, rising up from the pool of water like tendrils of heavenly radiance. He felt happier than he had ever felt before. The happiness was so great that his eyes began to water. He looked at Laura and she looked back, her eyes were beginning to tear up from joy as well. He closed his eyes and felt tears run down his cheeks. Never before had he experienced such emotion.

  He felt his body suddenly shooting upwards and he opened his eyes. He was flying upwards through a magical world of bright light and energy. Laura was by his side and they were holding hands once more, both hurtling upwards. The song of the faeries surrounded them and the feelings of joy continued to pulse through him. He knew his face was permeating pure joy just as he could see from Laura’s facial expression. It felt right with her there, beautiful, joyous.

  And then suddenly they broke through the magic and light like breaking the surface of water, the light and energy tumbling away from them. They were surrounded by a sudden oppressive darkness that eked the happiness away. And they saw horrible images pass by them, visions of dark creatures tearing through innocent faeries trying to run and escape. The little faeries were burned, maimed, and eaten whole by the evil monsters.

  Marc felt an overwhelming sadness, completely opposite end of the scale as he was just feeling. He sank to his knees in desperation at the horrors around him. He felt Laura cry out, sobbing, she clutched at him and cried into his shoulder.

  Why? Why did these little innocent spirits who wished only to spread happiness and goodness in the world have to suffer such atrocities? What evil could be so cruel as to snuff out the lives of these goodly beings simply because it could? Why?

  Marc felt an anger begin to grow within him, mixed with the sadness. He felt the fire inside burn stronger. He had the power to fight this evil. The cat had brought him here to do just that, and so he would do it.

  The fire burned brighter, hotter. He felt the heat bubbling until it would rise over and he let his head back and let out a cry, as if to speak for the fallen faeries, as if to let the evil that had done this know that he, Marc, knew of its malevolence done against such innocent creatures, and to let that evil know that he was coming to avenge their deaths and to make that evil pay.

  His shout echoed and echoed and echoed and suddenly, all was black.

  ***

  He did not know how long he remained in the blackness. He did not know what was real and what was just a dream. He did not know if everything he experienced away from his real body had actually happened or if it had only been a construction of his own imagination. But he wanted it to be real, the faeries, the magic, the joy, especially the joy. And he wanted Laura to be real.

  He suddenly realized that he was lying in dirt and on hard rock, the roar of the waterfall nearby. It was still dark but his eyes quickly adjusted. He felt Laura lying next to him, her breathing was the smooth and even breaths of sleep. She was snuggled close against him and he was very aware of the contact and was comforted by it. He glanced around the space in the rock underneath the waterfall to see if he could see the entrance to the tunnel leading to the faeries haven. But he could not find it. The rock wall was completely solid across its surface.

  Had it all been a dream? Had he and Laura come up here and they had simply fallen asleep and he had imagined the whole thing? But how could he sleep when this was not his real body? He felt if he fell asleep that he would return to the silvery grey world.

  And then he realized that he still had the necklaces and the bracelets from the faeries. It had been real.

  The memories and things shown to him and Laura had been real also. The faeries had truly been massacred.

  Marc felt a magical glow wash gently over him and with that feeling he knew that the death of the faeries was also a symbol of what would come if the evil that had murdered them was not dealt with. All hope, all joy, all life would succumb to the dark whims of that evil.

  And he had the power to stop it.

  He suddenly felt so tired. With the comfort of Laura against him and with all that had happened with the faerie magic he knew that it would not be long before he fell asleep and disappeared, returning to his real body. This projection of him would be pulled back to his normal frame. He didn’t want to leave. He shook h
is head, trying to keep himself awake, but he felt exhausted, weaker and more tired than he had ever felt before.

  He assumed that nothing of his projection would remain behind once he left.

  His eyelids drooped. He shook his head again.

  “Laura,” he said softly, gently shaking her.

  She slept on.

  “Laura!” He tried again.

  He closed his eyes for a moment.

  Even if he was able to wake her, with the way he was fading fast he knew there was no way he could wake Laura in time to explain everything to her in a way that would make sense. About how he would disappear because this wasn’t his real body, about how much he liked her, about how much he wanted to see her again.

  He shook his head a third time.

  He thought quickly, desperately.

  Then it came to him.

  He knew what he would do, he only hoped it would work.

  He wrote in the dirt with his finger.

  Kolima

  His eyelids drooped. He would soon sleep and return to his body.

  NO! he fought against the feeling.

  There the message lay, in plain English.

  But that was the problem. He was sure that no one here spoke anything that remotely resembled English, and he was sure she could not read the message scrawled in the dirt. He knew magic had something to do with it for sure, and he was hoping that magic would work on the message in the sand.

  Then, just as he was about to give up hope the letters in the sand began to change at the same time that he finally closed his eyes.

  Marc did not see, but his bracelets and necklace given to him from the Faeries fell to the dirt next to his message, as he disappeared.

  ***

  The blackness vanished and he whooshed back into his body in the silvery world.

  Laura. He thought.

  He missed her already.

  He vowed he would find her again.

  He closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to her.

  He opened them again.

  “Why can’t I go back!” He said loudly to the emptiness.

  The slowly moving shades of silver and grey had no response. He stared at the horizon. What a boring place, he thought, what is its purpose? Magic is such a strange thing here.

  He began to walk but moving did not do anything. With no point of reference it was impossible to judge distance traveled or even time passing. He did not tire, or hunger, or thirst. He tried punching himself. He felt pain but it was muted as if experienced from a distance.

  “Hello!!” He yelled, “Is anyone there?”

  His voice echoed, which was strange because there was nothing to reverberate off of.

  It was the longest he had ever been in this strange place. He wondered what the rules were in this realm. He tried jumping up and down, gravity seemed normal.

  He continued to walk. The motions felt calming. He tuned out the color-less world around him and let his mind wander. His thoughts turned first to her. Laura, such a pretty name, and a pretty face, and a pretty figure. Had he made a good impression on her? He felt like the encounter had been a little awkward, like he had been a little awkward. He hadn’t known what to say or do.

  His thoughts then wandered to the vision of the Fae Ones and he felt a pang of sadness hit him.

  He sat back down.

  How could that happen?

  He rested his hand on the sword at his side.

  Immediately he felt the magic console him.

  He withdrew the weapon out of curiosity. It was the sword, after all, that had brought him to this place, inadvertently.

  He wanted to inspect it more closely.

  Was this even the real thing? Or was the real one at his side next to his body?

  Again, he thought, everything feels real here.

  He studied the gleaming metal. It was so perfect now when compared to how it looked before. The pommel and handguard were much different too. Instead of a simple straight piece of metal like before, the guard was shaped like two great eagles wings pointing upward to the blade. The pommel was like the tail feathers of a bird as well.

  That was when he saw it, near the base of the blade.

  A fiery bird was embossed into the metal, on both sides of the sword.

  And it was not just any bird.

  “A Phoenix,” Marc said with a whisper.

  The next thing he knew the mist enveloped him and there was only darkness.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Revelations

  He felt a lukewarm wetness on his face.

  Once.

  He opened his eyes. He saw brown dirt moving beneath him.

  Twice.

  Then he realized what it was.

  “I’m awake, I’m awake, stop, stop, down boy!”

  Redmor, the aldom, was licking his face. The creature made a friendly noise in his throat, pleased that Marc was awake.

  Marc playfully pushed the aldom away, wiping away the creatures drool from his cheek.

  He was lying on his belly on top of some blankets. The blankets were arranged atop a number of supplies that had been lashed around a lumbering balkar. He was dressed in the traveling gear that Eleanor had made for him.

  “Hold up!”

  It was Zildjin.

  Marc looked up. The balkar stopped, Redmor as well.

  The morning light shone through trees on the right and left of a long winding dirt road. Zildjin, Sesuadra, and the other man with blonde hair, were riding aldoms at a slow pace, one empty aldom, the one Marc had picked with Topar, and one balkar in tow, with Marc atop it. The stranger was the same as the one who had saved Marc. Zildjin and Sesuadra were dressed in their blue, black, and gold uniforms, the dragon symbol on their apparel glinting in the sunlight.

  Zildjin and Sesuadra steered their aldoms closer to the balkar.

  “All is well?” Zildjin asked his friend.

  Marc sat up.

  “Where are we?”

  “Road of Amber Elms,” Zildjin replied.

  “Wait, what?” Marc asked.

  “You have been on this road before, this is where we first met you,” Zildjin said.

  “Yeah,” Marc nodded, “I recognize the name. I mean, why are we here?”

  “Kolima was no longer safe,” Sesuadra said.

  “What do you mean, not safe? Where is Eleanor? Topar? Why did we leave?”

  Zildjin reached out his hand to help Marc down from the balkar.

  Marc took it and leapt from the creature.

  He fell to the ground, his legs were cramped and felt like a million tiny bugs were crawling all over them, stinging him.

  Zildjin jumped from his aldom to help his friend.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Ow, my legs,” Marc muttered.

  “You have been asleep for several days,” Sesuadra stated.

  “Several da—” Marc began to stamp his legs awake, fighting the little shocks his legs returned in protest.

  “I guess that explains why I have to go so bad,” Marc continued.

  “Huh?” Zildjin asked, “Go where?”

  “Go, as in—never mind, just give me a moment.”

  With his legs still tingling, Marc walked over to the nearby trees to relieve himself.

  When he returned, the stranger, who had been keeping his distance as Marc was talking with Zildjin, was now next to Zildjin and Sesuadra.

  “Marcus Kendrick Hughes,”

  Marc stopped short at that.

  “Some call me Marc. Wait—how—how do you know—?” Marc looked up at him, surprised, along with the feeling of a stranger knowing his full name, almost as if a certain line was crossed.

  “Do not worry,” Zildjin said, “He is a friend.”

  “The reason we are not in Kolima anymore, is because The protectors were going to be going house to house searching for three young men responsible for the murder of one of the city’s most prestigious of the Overseer’s Hands, Safral, and a
protector.”

  “But Safral was the one who attacked us!” Marc protested.

  “We need no convincing, we are on your side already,” Zildjin said.

  “All is well, Marcus. My name is Cydas, Ardusk of Fallhaven.”

  The man gestured to Redmor.

  “If you would mount up, it is of utmost importance that we continue onward.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until I get some questions answered,” Marc replied, making no move to saddle up.

  “Is it not enough that I have already saved your life?”

  “That’s true,” Marc tilted his head slightly and raised his eyebrows, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders, “But I still don’t know very much about you, like how you found us in Kolima at such a precise moment to stop Safral from killing me, or how you know my full name—” he stopped, trying to think of more, but didn’t say anything else. He felt he had gotten his point across sufficiently.

  Zildjin leaned down and patted Marc on his shoulder, “All is well, friend, we had our doubts and questions too, but he has something that will help clarify things.”

  Marc looked up at his friend. He trusted Zildjin. He looked at Sesuadra, Sesuadra nodded his agreement. Marc trusted Sesuadra as well.

  “Alright,” He finally said.

  He approached Redmor and put his hands on each side of the creature’s neck. Redmor lowered his head.

  “Hey there, thanks for the wake up,” Marc said, patting the animals head in a friendly manner.