The Flame of Wrath

by Christene Knight

  “War!” the guests shouted fearfully. They quivered beneath the presence which loomed in the air. All eyes began to move in Aurea's direction. The Empress had just welcomed war upon them.

  ********

  Throughout the Land of Eternal Flame, the loud whine of vibrating glass caused the Imperial messengers to lurch upward while jerking from the grips of sleep. They rushed to the daises of regal splendor with trembling limbs. Just as they drew close, an otherworldly hand emerged from the mystical waters to offer up a vital scroll.

  Fear blanched their faces.

  Under the dying night, the messengers of the Empress rode fiercely. Their horses carried far more than their riders alone. They carried the fates of countless.

  A banner of blunt red whipped in the winds. Upon its dancing surface the seal of the royal house radiated like a beacon. Despite all political views, a messenger could not be received with anything less than open arms. This was ancient Pyrosian law. The flag carried with such steadfast diligence would act as the laurel to the messenger's safety.

  Never, in all of Pyrosian history had there been such a need for the messengers' dispersal. Throughout the land, scrolls were personally delivered to each ruling king and queen. When the seal was broken, it revealed a summons to arms.

  The Lucidian army was gathering to attack Pyros. By imperial decree, each royal house was commanded to lead their clan's army into battle. There was no escaping the obligation to which each house was duty-bound because the Empress had left no room for debate in her words. She had evoked the old ways along with the new. She had called her armies to service in defense of their homes, in defense of their land, in defense of their Empress, but above all else, she commanded them in defense of the Dragon Child.

  It was to this news that many royals woke. Their faces blanched beneath the morning sun.

  Within the Province of Angels, King Angelos III clenched his teeth. His fist balled around the scroll in his hand. His health was steadily returning to him. His daughter had made certain of this.

  Over the last several months, Autumn had personally made each of his meals before serving them to him. Dutifully, she sat with him as he ate every delicious morsel. Then when he was able, she aided in his training to restore the muscle which starvation had devoured.

  With every passing day, he grew to be the man so many remembered. Still if he were honest with himself, he realized that he was nowhere near ready to go to war. His mind lingered on the words, “In defense of the Dragon Child.” Inwardly, he fumed.

  “How dare her,” he spat. “She has done everything in her power to distance herself from the Dragon Mother and now because it's convenient, she claims ties to Her once more.”

  A voice calling to him from the doorway woke him from his rage. “Father?” he heard.

  Turning his head, the King looked to his daughter with sad eyes. It seemed that things were always calling them apart.

  Autumn entered the room with the sunlight welcoming her as she drew closer. Her steel-blue eyes fell over the scroll, instantly recognizing the seal. She gently pried it from her father's clenched hands. Then reading over it carefully, her brows furrowed.

  “It's because she dared to taint Logos with her soldiers,” Autumn reasoned quietly.

  Angelos nodded as his arms folded across his chest. “The Lucidians have every right to attack. Aurea singlehandedly shattered a treaty which was centuries old.”

  Moving to her father's desk, Autumn found a map. She rolled the map over the surface of the desk until she shared the vantage of the gods.

  Her father moved to her side. With his finger, he pointed to the place he believed the Lucidians would make their move. “Here,” he said decisively.

  Frowning curiously, Autumn concentrated on the massive canyon separating their lands. “How do you know this is where they will strike?”

  “It is exactly where I would,” he answered simply.

  Autumn nodded her understanding. A thoughtful humming her father performed in the back of his throat warned her that there was something on his mind, something he was not saying. “What is it, father?” she asked.

  He frowned with a sigh. “The Lucidian Queen,” he began.

  “The Sorceress?” Autumn had only heard whispers of the Sorceress. It was said that her powers far exceeded those possessed by any sorceress before her.

  “Yes,” Angelos said. “Though she has been in power scarcely a year, she has proven to be a cautious soul. She analyzes everything. Her mind is...” He paused, thinking of what he knew of the Lucidian Queen. When he felt his daughter's eyes upon him, he met them fully. “Her mind,” he began again, “far surpasses her predecessors.”

  Autumn suddenly realized what her father was saying. It caused her heart to leap into her throat where it beat loudly as emotion-filled words. “Could she best Aurea?” she whispered.

  Angelos' eyes voiced his uncertainty, even as his voice said otherwise. “That is why the Empress has her generals. It is our job to ensure that does not happen.” Regardless of his loathing for Aurea, he loved his land, his people. Because of this, he would defend them.

  The dark-haired Princess scoured the depths of her father's eyes for the truths he kept hidden.

  “What troubles me most,” the King mused as he played with his beard, “is that Lucidia would not attack us directly over neutral land, even if that land is the Holy Land. She would only move against us if we had desecrated Lucidian boundaries.”

  Autumn quietly regarded her father's respect for the Lucidian Queen. “Do we know of any other action taken to violate the treaty?”

  “I do,” a voice answered from the doorway.

  The King and Princess were shocked to see a peddler in tattered wares. He leaned against the long staff he clasped with both hands.

  When his head lifted, Autumn drew in a sharp breath. “Soren!” She rushed forward, wrapping her arm around her friend as she guided him toward a comfortable chair.

  The druid sat down with a grateful expression washing over his face.

  “What has happened?” Autumn asked.

  She stared over his tired face, scarcely recognizing it. And yet it was the bandage covering his eyes that frightened her most. “Were you hurt?”

  Soren pulled the heavy bandage away from his head. Slowly he shook his head. “No, dear friend, but such steps were necessary to hide my identity,” he explained, referring to his crimson eyes.

  Autumn reached upward to touch a lock of his long hair. It was matted and stained from its once auburn length. As her fingers drew away, she rubbed them together recognizing soot.

  “Another precaution,” he explained.

  Drawing closer to the fatigued druid, Angelos placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Tell us what you know, my friend.”

  “There is word among the resistance that the Empress has sent two divisions across the border.”

  “What?” the father and daughter gasped as one.

  Soren took in the horror which emanated from their beings. “They inhabit a small town near the border where they have begun construction.”

  “On?” Angelos asked.

  “We don't know.”

  King Angelos felt the muscles of his jaw dancing with tension. “I can guess,” he said.

  As Soren and Autumn awaited his theory, Angelos returned to the map. “With two sides building, it would not take long before Aurea had a means of full scale invasion.”

  “A bridge,” Autumn whispered in realization.

  The Princess joined her father at the map. Her eyes immediately went to the place her father had shown her previously. It was the one place on the ominous canyon where the borders were closest together. Still, close was hardly an adequate description.

  The two domains might have been two separate worlds for all the closeness which existed between them. A bridge would be an extensive undertaking, but it was the only way for an army to cross. By air, the weaponry required could never be transported. It was far too h
eavy.

  “We believe that Aurea will confirm that Pyros has already crossed Lucidian soil during the meeting of generals,” the druid said.

  Soren stared down at the lingering energy resonating on the floor where the family had walked. “There's something else,” he added somberly. His tone caused the royals of Angels to look in his direction with respectful silence.

  “We have learned that the invasion was led by Angelos.”

  Angelos III slumped forward at the mention of his son's name. The knotting in his stomach warned him that he should have suspected his involvement. Yet despite that feeling, something inside of him could not have allowed him to even think it. Why was it that he still struggled with the unconscionable acts committed by his own son?

  Autumn's face blanched. Gone was the beauty of her olive skin. It was replaced by the pale sickness of regret and sorrow.

  “Are you sure?” the King asked hoarsely.

  “Our intelligence has been correct thus far,” Soren answered sadly. “There is no reason to doubt them now.”

  King Angelos could only nod. He reassuringly squeezed Autumn's arm. Together, they shared a moment of silence.

  When that silence broke, it was beneath the hammer of the King's voice. “I am expected at the palace.”

  “I will join you,” Autumn insisted. She reeled at the thought of her father alone in Aurea's palace. The danger he would face there was a bitter certainty.

  Angelos shook his head. He had only just secured Autumn from Aurea's clutches. He had no desire to usher her back to them. “No, daughter. You must stay here and prepare the troops since I cannot.”

  Autumn wanted to protest, but knew that her father was right. If they were on the cusp of war then someone would need to remain behind to rally their soldiers to arms. She decided upon a safe compromise. “Take the Guardians.”

  Hearing the tone in her voice, Angelos nodded. “I will summon Zahara and the others at once.” He kissed her cheek before taking his leave.

  As King Angelos walked silently down a quiet hallway, his mind flashed to the visions presented to him by the Oracle. He felt those images around him like a staticky cloud. Still, he forged ahead to war and to perhaps the death of all he knew.

  ********

  The war-room was in an uproar. Voices bled together in a great mess of chaos. Fists pounded against the surface of the massive table. Eyes flashed in heated passion. Then suddenly silence reigned over the room.

  The Empress' arrival had gripped the generals with such force that it threatened to choke them all. Her intense blue eyes scanned the generals who were awkwardly shifting beneath her gaze. Flaming pupils flickered beneath the winds of rage as she caught sight of Angelos III, who had Zahara and another Guardian standing at his back with clasped hands.

  “Your Majesty, is it true?” a general asked nervously.

  The Empress moved to the head of the table. She sat within the chair as though it were a throne. Her crown glinted with all the radiance of her golden hair. Her expression gave nothing away, least of all her innermost desires for this meeting.

  Only when she felt compelled to speak did she answer his question. “We are at war with Lucidia,” Aurea declared.

  The loud panic which had once filled the room returned with zealous intent. Aurea attempted to put an end to its pandemonium, but not even she could subdue it.

  Angelos lifted his voice above the others. The sheer fact that he had spoken compelled the others to reverent silence. Among his peers, he was a legend worthy of the utmost respect. “Brothers, Sisters,” he soothed. “We must be calm. All this shouting solves nothing.”

  Aurea's eyes narrowed heatedly upon him. She did not need or want Angelos' help in anything. Let alone in controlling others. As the room grew respectfully quiet, she rethought her position on accepting Angelos' help. Perhaps if she governed how he could aid her, his assistance might be tolerable.

  “Why have we declared war?” the general from Shadow Reign asked calmly. He was every bit the personage of his cousin, Donovan. His demeanor was calm and steady unlike many in the room.

  “My reasons are my own,” Aurea answered flatly.

  “With all due respect, Empress,” Donovan's cousin countered. “If we are to send good men and women to possibly die in this war, they will need more than that.”

  Aurea's being tensed visibly. She clenched the arms of her chair tightly then released them with a lengthy calming breath. “Of course,” she said, regaining her composure. “It has come to our attention that the Lucidians are preparing their forces to attack.”

  “But why?” the General from Blessed Vine asked. “We've coexisted with them for centuries.”

  Aurea met the woman's eyes with an earnest expression. “They are angry that we have taken Logos under our protection.”

  “Protection?” the woman asked in confusion.

  “Yes,” the Empress said. “We had to conquer Logos as a means of protecting it from the Lucidians who were about to destroy it.”

  Confusion spread throughout the room like a toxic cancer. It stopped with the people of Angels, Black Flame and Illusion. They saw clearly what the others could not. In their eyes, Aurea was a serpent whose dance hypnotized all who witnessed it, but when one least expected it, her kiss was venomous and deadly.

  Donovan's cousin suddenly understood why his cousin had taken up such an unthinkable task. The reasons why his cousin would invade Logos had been a mystery to him. It had caused him to lose respect for Donovan. And yet, as he learned the truth of why Donovan had gone, his cousin fell in good favor with him once more. Donovan was defending the history and wonders of Logos not tainting it. This knowledge granted him a certain peace.

  The Shadow Reign general stood with a sense of great purpose in his every movement. “My Empress, I think I speak for everyone here,” he said, “when I say that we will do whatever it takes to defend the Holy Land from those who would harm it.”

  Aurea smiled. She rose from her chair then gently clasped his arms. “Our people and our future generations to come, thank you.” She looked away from him, convincing all of her sincerity with her mesmerizing eyes. “All of you,” she added.

  Chests puffed with pride at those words. They were about to embark upon a great crusade. They were going to defend the glory of their holiest land. The Land of Logos, where they believed the Dragon, Herself, resided above any other plane would be protected from the evils threatening it.

  Silent servants passed orders to each general. The words were read over carefully. They recognized that the battle-plan was a sound one, but it revealed far more than a mere attempt to keep Lucidia at bay. It betrayed a desire to conquer a great portion of Lucidia for Pyrosian rule. Still, they did not question it. All that mattered now was protecting Logos.

  As the meeting adjourned, not all were filled with blind faith. Angelos was more wary of Aurea than ever before. He stopped short of the doors when he heard Aurea's voice call out to him.

  “King Angelos,” she said. “A moment.”

  The dark-haired king paused with Guardians enveloping him.

  “Alone,” the Empress added with feigned politeness.

  Angelos motioned his entourage away. He saw the hesitation in Zahara's eyes before she reluctantly left the room.

  When they were alone, the King turned toward the Empress. He waited with a defensiveness lingering about his body.

  “I appreciate your help during the meeting,” Aurea said. She poured herself a glass of wine. Her movements were fluid and at ease. She lifted her head to glance at the King. His stance was that of stone. She smiled all the more intensely. As she opened her mouth to speak again, Angelos interrupted her.

  “Aurea, while the others may believe you are doing this as a means of protecting Logos, I know the truth. This is about power and nothing more.”

  Aurea laughed quietly into her glass. When she withdrew the chalice from her wine-glistened lips, she slowly nodded her head. “Yes, but just tr
y telling that to any number of my generals. We shall see whom they believe.”

  Angelos balled his fist. “Do not be so arrogant, Empress,” he warned quietly. “There are those who would believe me.”

  “Yes, but is your little band of brothers enough to overthrow me?” Aurea smiled all the more as her finger ran along the mouth of her cup. “I think not.”

  “Your reckoning is coming, Aurea.”

  Aurea shrugged in disinterest. “Perhaps,” she sighed. The mesmerizing waters of her eyes chilled to dangerous ice. She stared out through her lashes, taking in the man she loathed. “But that day shall be long after yours.”

  The Empress raised her glass in a mock toast, feigning salute to her revered general. “Thank you for volunteering your army to lead the surge.”

  As the King opened his mouth to counter, the Empress began walking past him. “Mother keep you,” she prayed mockingly.

  ********

  The air was a hellish thing which weighted the chest. It was stiflingly hot. In its reign, it birthed a painful sound. Hammers loudly pounded in thundering procession.

  The King and Princess walked among the crowded streets. Together, they surveyed the progress made by the talented craftsmen of their home. A new suit of armor to every enlisted soldier had been commissioned. As well as a strong new sword and shield for every warrior. This was the Angels' way. It was from the King's purse that these expenses were paid.

  Angelos had often boasted, “Let it be said that no King would offer up his gold with more pride.” It showed in his direct involvement with each specially crafted provision for his army.

  “Make them strong,” Angelos said as he surveyed a shield. A glistening sword was soon to take its place. He smiled approvingly as he wielded the weapon with precision and skill.

  Autumn heard a voice approaching with profound timidness. She turned her head in its direction. A small child with soot smudging his features motioned her to follow. Intrigued she smiled and followed the boy to his master's shop.

  “What do have you for me, young apprentice?” she asked kindly.

  The boy shuffled over to a table of mountainous landscapes. He drew back a leather sheet sheltering the better part of the work-table. Upon the table, a collection of armor twinkled like fallen stars.