The Flame of Wrath

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The Flame of Wrath Page 3

by Christene Knight


  The voice to ask the question had started the others. The elder had chosen that precise moment to speak softly. All eyes now looked to her as she patiently awaited her answer.

  “I have,” Aurea answered scarcely above a whisper.

  “And what have you seen?” the elder asked.

  “I have seen that I deserve better than this,” Aurea said at first. She paused then spoke again in a voice laced with dreams. “I have also seen the future of the world.”

  Glory had soundlessly removed the sandals from her feet. She tenderly placed them upon bandaged feet, certain that they ---though slightly big on the young woman's feet--- would help in her future voyage. She lifted her head now that her doting was completed. A thoughtful question left her lips. “What is that future?” she asked.

  “One of virtue.”

  “Whose?”

  Aurea met eyes with the woman who had helped her so graciously. She had not heard maliciousness in Glory's voice. She doubted that the woman even possessed that trait. And yet, something in her question ----perhaps the fact that she had questioned her at all---- sent the flames within her eyes blazing. She took one last sip of water before rising to her feet.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said by reflex alone.

  With a confused family at her back, Aurea set out again on her journey. The words of the druids echoed in her head.

  What kind of soul will you be when you face Her?

  She glared toward the horizon. “A better one,” she answered bitterly. She fumed as she thought of the red-eyed druids. “---One who no longer has need of you.”

  ********

  The sun had shifted in the sky. It burned hotly against the back of her neck. Its heat nipped and licked at her skin.

  A passerby gasped from atop his modest gray mount. He was an old reed-like man with glasses slipping to the tip of his hawkish nose. The disheveled appearance of his riding clothes betrayed his nature. It showed that he cared much more for the botanical wonders he had sketched inside the book tucked beneath his arm than for his actual appearance. “Highness,” he began softly. “Please.”

  Without a word, he dismounted from his mare. He carefully helped Aurea to the polished saddle. He took the saddlebags containing his possessions. With a slight heft, he threw the bags over his shoulder. Then with a respectful dip of his head, he smiled and was on his way. “Good luck on your journey,” he called with a wave.

  Aurea stared after him in a state of confusion. What a peculiar man, she thought. She guided her newly-acquired mare into the opposite direction, returning to her previous course. As her horse set out to a carefree gallop, the wind caressed her fair skin. She winced, feeling the sting of a summer burn.

  Urging her steed forward, she began the trip from the bowels of the valley. The wind flowing down into the valley was a comforting reprieve.

  Once out of the lush bowl within the earth, she scanned the horizon. If she kept the peaks to her west and traveled north, she would reach the outskirts of the land by nightfall. She hoped.

  ********

  The sun was steadily losing its battle with her lifelong nemesis the moon. She had battled bravely but the day was near an end and the night taunted her maniacally by gaining in strength.

  Aurea caught a sound rising up in unison with the creatures of the night. As she listened more closely, she could begin to peel away the layers until at last she could make out the sounds of the nearby river.

  The lulling song was one which could seduce even the most headstrong of travelers to break if only for a moment. Aurea was no different. She surrendered to the siren’s call all too willingly.

  Grateful to rest, Aurea led her horse to the river's edge. Once her horse had waded to its ankles into the water and began to drink, she found a calm place upstream to kneel. She wearily placed her hands within the waters.

  The clear waters bubbled and circled around her wrists. She pooled the cool liquid inside her hands then brought the water to her face. The coolness soothed her burned skin. It made the inner recesses of her being sigh with contentment.

  A noise called to the young woman away from that peace. Her head quickly shot up. She gazed through water-matted lashes. She blinked the droplets away, staring across to the opposite shore.

  Dressed in pristine white, a man stood holding a staff.

  Aurea tensed. “Soren,” she hissed.

  Soren tilted his head in observance. “You are at a crossroads, young sovereign,” he said above the waters.

  Frowning, Aurea searched around them. “You are mistaken,” she argued. “There are no roads here, druid.” She turned her back to him, angered by his very presence.

  Soren sighed sadly. Aurea radiated with anger and bitterness. It rose off of her like heat from a stone soaking in the summer sun. “I have come to warn you,” he tried again.

  “Warn me?” Aurea’s back tensed as her brow arched curiously. “Warn me about what?”

  Aurea mounted her horse. She used the mount's height to grant herself leverage over the tall druid. She stared down at him from across the river.

  “If you cannot release your angers then you will be led down a path of hatred, persecution and darkness.”

  Aurea scoffed a laugh. “You druids think that your gifts make you all-knowing.” The flames of her eyes burned brilliantly. “But you know nothing about me... about who I truly am.” Her brow arched slowly. “If you did, you would know that I am so far from having any connection to darkness. If anything, I am. . .” She paused then smiled with the choice of words which suddenly came to mind. “A child of Light.” She smiled approvingly.

  Yes, she thought. That was it perfectly.

  “I will bring that Light to our people.”

  Soren gripped more fiercely at his staff. His vision echoed against the recesses of his soul.

  “You are merely trying to suppress me because you fear the change that I will bring.”

  “You will damn us!” Soren yelled.

  Aurea slowly began to smile. Its arrival masked the anger visible inside her dancing eyes. “Not my people. I will save them, but you, you miserable creature . . . you, I will damn.” She turned her horse in the direction of the rough path. It would inevitably lead to the Fire Peaks. “You, I will damn. Just as you have damned me each time your cursed kind gazed upon me.”

  ********

  Held within her chaperon's arms, she was but a trembling toddler. Their eyes frightened her. Why did they look to her with haunting red eyes? What did they see which made them shrink away from her?

  ********

  Aurea breathed heavily. Her lungs burned. The weight of the golden burden upon her back sent her legs trembling beneath her. She urged her horse forward while holding fast to the reins. The stirring of the animal at her back warned that the mare had no desire to travel any further into this mythical place. She gazed through the mussed tresses falling limply within her sight.

  She had reached the outskirts of the territory. It had consumed the entire day and the better portion of the night, but at last she could see the base of the rumbling volcano.

  She winced as she took a step forward. The black soil beneath her feet stung with the bitterness of heat. She knew that the land around her would only continue to grow hotter. If she was struggling at this stage, she would never be able to scale the volcano to its summit. “But what choice did she have?” she wondered bleakly.

  Unable to stand the heat beneath her hooves, the horse reared back. She tugged and pulled to be free of Aurea's grip. Once her rider could no longer hold her, she raced away, all too happy to put distance between herself and the volcano.

  With a loud frustrated growl, Aurea sat down upon a large rock resting on what remained of a vanishing path. She searched her surroundings with tearful eyes. Beneath the pale light of the moon, the world was a mixture of purples, blues and blacks. There were no other clear paths to be seen. Her head rose slowly.

  The shadow of the volcano loomed li
ke a black demon against the darkened sky. Beneath its skin, veins of glowing life thrived in molten glory. An angry breath huffed and hissed from its body.

  Aurea trembled in awe of the great beast. What could she do? Any access to the palace was meant to be gained by air. The foreboding location had been selected for this very reason: to ward off invaders.

  For a brief instant, Aurea's mind gave life to living nightmares.

  All around her, she saw black lumbering demons rising from the volcanic soil with lava dribbling from their growling mouths.

  Tightly, Aurea closed her eyes, forcing the fearful thoughts away. Her nightmares had always tormented her.

  She winced against a tear bitterly stinging her skin. The tiny trail left by the tear existed as the subtle reminder that beneath the grime something pampered lay hidden.

  “Don't cry, Majesty,” she heard. The voice shattered the brittle silence.

  Aurea tensed. She searched the darkness around her. She commanded the flames of her eyes to light her way. With the flames rising inside her eyes, the blond began to glimpse the possessor of the purred voice.

  “Who is there?” Aurea demanded.

  “I am but a humble servant.”

  From the shadows, an exotic creature emerged. Her head was respectfully lowered as she looked to the ground at left. She began to turn her head in Aurea's direction though her eyes remained downcast. Carefully she gauged her every step. She approached with all the care of a submissive animal to a dominant female.

  The brief glimpse of her profile had spoken as a testament to her aristocratic heritage. Her skin was lightly tanned, but never by a day's toil. Her subtle warmth was the rested glow of carefree holidays.

  It occurred to Aurea that while most people paid homage to the sun, this woman knew the burning attention of the sun worshipping her.

  She was an hour-glass, capable of commanding time to race with one's heart. At a whim, she could slow time with a controlled breath past her moistened lips. Her womanly whiles were accentuated by her every movement. She used this to her advantage as she walked with fluid grace toward the young ruler scrutinizing her every step.

  For a brief moment, she lifted her sultry green eyes. They were touched by a roundness which alluded to innocence, but that innocence was false. The smoldering depths she commanded to rise and fall at a moment's notice lapped at the recesses of Aurea's mind like the sea to the shore.

  As she stopped before Aurea, she raised her delicate hand to smooth away silken strands of gold. Its hue mirrored Aurea's in every way.

  Aurea gazed up at the woman. She took in the way the moonlight fell over her body. A gossamer red gown lovingly hugged her full breasts. Its fabric forked to reveal the spans of her smooth stomach. Clinging desperately to her ample hips, a blood red skirt flowed down to end against her ankles. Shapely legs were exposed through the slits along the sides which tempted her eyes for a moment longer before she lifted sapphire eyes to meet patient green.

  “You are not dressed as a servant,” Aurea said. Her voice had blossomed in that moment to nurture her awakening seductiveness.

  The woman smiled slowly. “That depends entirely on what you require in a servant, Mistress.” Her words were echoed by the stoking of pale blue flames.

  Aurea narrowed her eyes. She made no attempts to hide her distrust although she attempted to feign disinterest. She turned her back on the woman. “What is your name?” she asked.

  “Maven.”

  “No one swears their loyalties without a price, Maven” Aurea paused and turned her head to speak over her shoulder. “What is yours?”

  The woman closed the distance between them again. She lightly touched her hands to tense biceps. Her lips tickled closely to the curls near Aurea's ear. “Take me with you.”

  Aurea shifted so that she could clearly see into Maven's eyes. “Ah, you are ambitious,” she said in understanding.

  Maven lowered her gaze until she could meet Aurea’s eyes. She bared herself entirely within that gaze. “Why should I hide it? Would you not see through my intentions had I feigned otherwise?”

  “I would have,” Aurea retorted confidently.

  “Then why insist on false-pretenses?”

  Maven tenderly stroked the back of her hand along Aurea's jaw. Everything about Aurea excited her. The Dragon's fire alight within her eyes, the power she would wield, the youth with which she would claim the world, it all sent her heart racing and wet her palate for the fruits of the future. For that, she dared to repeat her plea. “Take me with you,” she breathed.

  Silence reigned in the spans of an unbearable moment. Then slowly Aurea nodded.

  Maven smiled a bewitching smile. She motioned with a graceful movement toward the shadows. Two men silently stepped forward. “Bring us transports,” she instructed.

  Aurea watched the men obediently follow her commands. She smiled approvingly. “You were expecting me,” she said.

  Green eyes voiced what words could not. Maven had always known that she was meant for greatness. She had yearned for nothing more than to know her place at the side of the greatest power in the known world.

  Aurea recognized that zealous burning of one’s desire for their destiny. She had felt it each moment she drew breath. It was there so brightly inside Maven's beautiful eyes.

  “Every day,” Maven answered clearly annunciating each syllable.

  ********

  Inside a clearing, a copious fog gathered. Soren sat as an ivory stone within the heart of a quaking red sea. The druids surrounding him all remained on bended knee. Their left hand was extended to him as if to feel the warmth of a comforting fire while each right hand held firmly, but lovingly to the left shoulder of their brother uniting them in a ring of free-flowing energy and strength.

  Slowly, Soren stood. He knew that the vision he had witnessed had been planted as a seed inside the minds of his kin. Speaking out of desperation and fear for what might become of them, he lifted his voice to the dark sky.

  “You have made a mistake,” he said. “She is unworthy of being Your heir.”

  The red sea trembled violently around him.

  “Please, my Goddess. I beg You. Take away the gift You give!”

  A shriek ripped across the sky. The stars in the sky pulsed and breathed with the intensity of rage. The swaying grass screamed out in anguish as one by one they were twisted and contorted by flame. That roaring fire spread only to become a prison to the fearful druids.

  Soren's eyes welled with tears. The beauty of his graceful face upturned to the shadowy vastness. “Please,” he begged. “I am Your servant. I mean no disrespect. Aurea is----”

  The fires danced higher. As their heat grew more pronounced, their swaying feminine lines drew closer to the men with downcast heads.

  Soren heard the soft sounds of pain beginning to flee from lips only meant for prayer. He lowered his head in defeat. “Forgive me,” he said scarcely above a whisper. “Your will is beyond my mortal sight.”

  The fires instantly fell away. A gentle breeze kissed the cheeks of the shivering druids like a mother's lips to her sons' furrowed brows.

  A mighty clap filled the air in slow, powerful strokes until it grew distant then finally silent.

  Soren broke the cycle of energy by silently leaving the circle. He ignored the quiet murmurs of confusion. He could not be seen now. His aura betrayed him. For the first time since becoming a druid, he questioned his life's purpose, but most importantly, the One that purpose was devoted to.

  ********

  Aurea breathed deeply as she gazed over the province. From high above, she circled the land known as the Treasure of the World. She gazed approvingly over the vineyards. Each vineyard thrived within the shadows of the extravagant estates nestled among the winding hills.

  The night air felt cool against her skin. It whipped through her golden hair. A smile curled her heart-shaped mouth. Riding side-saddle upon one of Pyros' proud creatures, Aurea could not help but feel he
r destiny was closer than it had ever been.

  The orchards below sent a crisp clean perfume to rise up to meet her. Each meticulously nurtured row of land was now hers. It was all precisely as she had been told.

  All of Pyros will be yours, My daughter.

  She had cleaved to this promise since before she was old enough to understand its enormity.

  The colossal ivory owl beneath her stretched its wings against the night. It embraced the world of sapphire and onyx velvet littered with so many bits of twinkling diamonds. Its wingspan easily reached fourteen feet, but this raptor was only of average size. The flecks of gold within its feathers voiced that it too was meant for the destination looming in the distance.

  Aurea turned her head to her right. Flanking her side, she observed what could prove to be the red fan to her ambitious flame.

  Maven rode atop her owl of spices. Nutmeg, cinnamon and sugar intermingled to feather the owl. The tufts along the animal's head gave the illusion of reaching horns.

  Maven’s captivating green gaze met Aurea's sparkling blue eyes. They held one another in an aquamarine world of intermingling pools. That tie was broken when Maven smiled encouragingly and with a graceful motion of her hand gestured toward the horizon.

  Aurea turned away from the blond then gasped aloud.

  Suddenly invigorated by a new zeal, the blond gripped the reins with an air of command. She guided the bird of prey in the direction of the highest peak in all the land. As she grew closer, the hissing steam parted, revealing the true heart of the volcano.

  Basking in the splendors below, she memorized this moment and the feeling it inspired. She allowed her eyes to take in every detail, determined never to surrender her memories to forgetfulness or time.

  Inside the mouth of the volcano, the Pyrosian palace glimmered in golden splendor. Its proud presence thrived atop a primordial island.

  Countless centuries of lava had hardened to create the island within the eye of the volcano. And yet, that primeval reality was merely a darkened mass amidst a sea of light.

  A ring of red and orange bubbled safely below. It was their presence which gave the Fire Peaks their ominous glow. Their heated embrace faltered shyly, never reaching the heights of their former lives. The lava swirled so far from the royal house that, once long ago, great curved glasses had been affixed within the peak to refract the magma's light. Those reflective vessels had enabled the grandiose illusion of danger to remain.

 

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