Inassea Chronicles: The Blighted Flame

by P. A. Peña

  “This is my partner, Virgil,” Orlando said, flashing a smile so blindingly fake it was painful. “I was just telling these concerned citizens that they really shouldn’t be running off making baseless claims. Right?”

  Virgil looked over to the man. “I don’t know, Orlando. This man seems pretty convinced to me. What’s your name?”

  “Johnny, sir,” the man replied. “It’s an honor to meet you both. I’ve always wanted to be a Crusader.”

  “Trust me,” Virgil replied. “The honor’s all mine. You were saying that the Scarlet Mage is working with witches?”

  “Yes. I was traveling on vacation in the Onyx nation. Seeing the islands and whatnot. While I was there, the embassy had Esteras Island blocked off. I was really hoping to see it. Luckily the embassy refunded my ferry ticket and hotel room, so everything worked out, I guess.”

  “So the Scarlet Mage was spotted on Esteras with witches?”

  “Oh no,” Johnny continued, “it was far worse than that. I overheard one of the healers who tried to treat the wounded.”

  “Wounded?” Virgil said, “Sounds like there was an altercation.”

  Johnny nodded. “From what I overheard, it sounded more like a massacre.”

  “I hate to say it, but what you describe doesn’t necessarily prove that this was the Scarlet Mage, or that witches were involved.”

  “I’m not finished yet. Apparently, the embassy tried to interrogate the hunter. He described seeing a figure draped in a red and black cloak, and his face was covered by a mask. When they tried to press the matter further, the hunter snapped. ‘Keep the blood away.’ That’s all he said, over and over again until he, well, you know. According to the healer, a malicious aura was left imprinted on the hunter’s body. One that could only be caused by lost magic. I mean, the black and red cloak. The mask. The blood. The aura. That’s gotta mean that this is the Scarlet Mage. Right? And he’s been learning lost magic from witches?”

  Virgil smiled and patted Johnny on the shoulder. “Thank you for the information. I’ll be sure this gets back to my superiors.”

  Virgil and Orlando returned to their seats. “And just what was the meaning of that?” Orlando asked.

  “I was curious as to what he had to say,” Virgil replied. “Weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, but you all but confirmed the presence of the Scarlet Mage for them.”

  “That may be, but it was valuable information worth gathering. In the end, I was just doing my job and gathering intel on potential threats for my superiors. Speaking of which, the Scarlet Mage is rumored to be working with witches and was last seen on Esteras Island.”

  Orlando couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not your superior yet. You still have a long road ahead of you.”

  Upon arriving in town, Orlando took Virgil straight to the registration site. The building was quite small, blending inconspicuously with the shops and businesses around it. A single worker sat in the tightly confined space. He was a half-elf, as evidenced by his pointed ears, but lack of whimsical brightly colored hair.

  “Ugh,” the half-elf said. “I was hoping I wouldn’t see you today.”

  “Damn, Franchesko,” Orlando replied, holding out his hands as they approached the counter. “I thought we were cool.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re cool. That isn’t going to win me the pool, though. I thought for sure you were going to strike out this time.”

  Orlando laughed. “Haven’t you learned by now? You never bet against the Squid.”

  “Right,” Franchesko said unconvincingly as he turned his attention to Virgil. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “I am.” Virgil nodded.

  “And do you, Orlando, swear to the ability of this applicant by offering your sponsorship?”

  “That is correct,” Orlando replied.

  “You know I have to hear you say it.”

  Orlando raised his right hand. “Yeah, yeah. I solemnly swear that Virgil Truesdale is capable of taking the Crusader’s Exam by his own merit.”

  Franchesko reached into his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. “All righty then.” He handed the documents to Virgil, along with a pen. “Go ahead and fill out these forms. They’re nothing special. Just some basic info on yourself, and a waiver stating you understand the Crusader’s Exam could result in property damage, bodily harm, psychological trauma, dismemberment, disability, or death.”

  Virgil looked down at the stack of papers. He paused as thoughts of his family coursed through his mind.

  “Is everything all right?” Franchesko asked.

  “Y-yeah,” Virgil stuttered.

  “Listen, if you don’t think you’re up for it—”

  “Virgil’s more than capable of taking the exam,” Orlando said, placing his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. “You wouldn’t be trying to influence his decision for your own benefit now, would you?”

  “Please,” Franchesko said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not that pressed to win the pool. I’m just saying if Virgil here was to give up so easily, he surely isn’t Crusader material.”

  “You needn’t to worry about that,” Virgil said as he picked up the pen. “I’m more than capable of passing the exam.”

  “Well, look who’s beaming with confidence all of a sudden.”

  Orlando chuckled. “Yeah, the kid’s a real firecracker. Gets it from his dad. At any rate, I have to get going. I probably won’t get to speak to you again until after the exam, so knock ’em dead.”

  Orlando left the registration office, leaving Virgil to finish up his paperwork. The pages were not only long but long-winded. In no time at all, Virgil zoned out, mindlessly filling out the blank spaces. He then paused as a particular page snatched his attention, and his heart sank.

  “Is something wrong?” Franchesko asked.

  “N-no,” Virgil stuttered. “I just. I don’t have a next of kin to notify if I die.”

  “I see. I’m so sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to put down a friend’s information instead.”

  Virgil remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the empty line.

  Franchesko frowned. “So, no friends then either. Ummm. In that case, you can leave it blank.”

  The tiny room seemed to be getting hotter, and the walls much closer. Virgil turned his attention back to his application. He burned through the rest of the forms as quickly as he could, and handed them over to Franchesko, who gave them a once over and placed the paperwork into a folder. Franchesko then reached into the cabinet behind him and pulled out a crystal as clear as freshly blown glass. The gem was about the size of a golf ball, and was ridged around its surface.

  “Are you familiar with teleportation crystals?” Franchesko asked.

  Virgil nodded.

  “Good. That makes these instructions much shorter. This crystal has been set to allow transport to one specific location. It won’t be active until noon tomorrow, and it only contains enough mana for one use. When the crystal glows blue, use it, and it will take you to the testing grounds. You only get one crystal, so if you happen to lose it or it breaks, then you’re disqualified from the exam and will have to try again next year.”

  Virgil took the crystal with haste, and slipped it into his coat pocket. After thanking Franchesko, he left the registration building. His heart raced, and sweat pooled on the back of his neck. He looked down to the Fang of Kayveon and begun to twirl it between his fingers. He took a deep breath, allowing the crisp air to fill his lungs.

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” he said. “I won’t forget what you taught me. I promise. As soon as she’s dead, I’m leaving the Alliance.”

  Chapter 5

  Throughout his travels, Virgil had never been to the Diamond Nation’s capital. Not only was it the largest city in the nation, but it was also the most technologically advanced. Ekrham had long since done away with utilizing a traditional power grid. Instead, it used a mix of solar and thermal energy, and when that fell short, sor
cerers filled in the gap.

  Ekrham was split into seven districts with the biggest being the business district. It was better known as downtown Ekrham and was always lively with a mix of locals and tourists. During the day the streets were full of businesses and boutiques selling their wares, and at night, the district throbbed with a blend of music and neon lights. For hours Virgil wandered downtown Ekrham, allowing his curiosity to be his guide. When he had his fill, he retired to a hotel he had stumbled across while exploring.

  The Grovallia stretched high into the sky and was adorned with a mass of gold and glass. Virgil entered the building through a set of grand revolving doors. The lobby was sumptuous, decorated with various pieces of furniture too beautiful to actually sit on comfortably. The carpet was bright red, embroidered with golden tassels, and an enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling. It illuminated the room like hundreds of glowing stars captured in crystal bulbs.

  Virgil turned his attention to the lobby attendant, and immediately caught a look of disdain. Despite this, he continued his approach.

  “I’m sorry,” the attendant began, his tone condescending, “but if you’re looking to use a phone—”

  “I’m not,” Virgil replied. “I’m looking to book a room for the night. A king-sized bed if you have it.”

  “Pardon me, but are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable at another establishment?”

  “Probably,” Virgil admitted. "I usually don’t go for these ‘fancy’ establishments, but things are kind of changing in my life right now, so I figured fuck it. Why not give this a shot?” The attendant’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. “So, do you have a room available?”

  The attendant forced a smile as he turned his attention to his computer. After clicking away at the keyboard and mouse, he looked back to Virgil. This time he bore a more sinister grin. “I’m afraid we only have one room available with a king-sized bed. Our diamond suite. It’s the absolute pinnacle The Grovallia has to offer.”

  “Sounds good. How much is it?”

  “It will be three thousand a night plus taxes, as well as an additional thousand-dollar deposit. Try not to be too discouraged. As I said, the diamond suite is the most luxurious suite in the nation. Nobles from across the land travel to Ekhram just to spend a single night here.”

  “Seriously,” Virgil said as he reached into his pocket and proceeded to sort out the payment. “It must really be something then.” He handed over the stack of bills.

  The attendant’s face had begun to turn red, and sweat formed upon his brow. “Well, I . . .”

  “Is there a problem?” Virgil asked.

  “N-no, sir. Please forgive me. I’ll just need a quick moment to prep your room.”

  Fumbling over his computer keys, the attendant put Virgil into the system. With everything squared away, he handed Virgil his room key along with instructions to his room.

  The diamond suite was elegance in its purest form. The moment Virgil stepped into the room, he was greeted by two women. One was human, tall and slender. Her white skin was tanned, and her hair was brown with curly locks. The other was an elven woman with gray skin. She was short and muscular with purple hair that fell to the middle of her back. Both women wore the same uniform: a glimmering white maid outfit equipped with golden bows.

  The room itself was massive. A large hot tub in the shape of a diamond was embedded in the middle of the floor. Its rims were golden, and its porcelain was as white as freshly fallen snow. An eighty-inch tv stretched across the wall. Several paintings surrounded it. A full bar lined the western wall, and opposite that was a patio equipped with a private pool and several tanning chairs. A set of white oak wood doors sectioned off what must be the bedroom.

  “Greetings, Mr. Truesdale,” the women said in unison, their right hands clasped over their left. “How may we be of service?”

  “Excuse me?” Virgil said as he placed his satchel on the floor.

  The elven woman rushed over to Virgil in a panic. “Please allow me to get that for you, sir!”

  “We are your assigned maidens,” the other woman explained. “It is our job to fulfill your every desire during your stay at The Grovallia. Should you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask.”

  The elven woman returned, having placed Virgil’s bag in the bedroom.

  “Thank you, miss, uh, I’m sorry. I forgot to ask for your names.”

  “Our names?” the elven woman gasped.

  “Yeah. What are they?” The women fell silent. It looked as if the elven woman was about to cry. “I’m sorry,” Virgil said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  The human woman erupted in laughter, gripping her sides as if to keep them from splitting. On the other hand, the elven woman simply smiled, tears running down her cheeks.

  “Don’t apologize,” the elf said. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Virgil pursed his lips. “Then I’m afraid I’m terribly confused.”

  “I’ve been working at this hotel for eight years now,” the human began, finally managing to pull herself together. “Naomi’s been here even longer than that. In all our time here, no one has ever asked for our names. We’re always just ‘the help’ or ‘you there’ or ‘you with the tight ass.’”

  Virgil paused, his eyes wide. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Naomi replied. “The Grovallia attracts nobles of the highest class. We’ve come to know that such types care very little for those of us who live a life of servitude.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It is,” the human woman agreed. “Which is why I must thank you, Mr. Truesdale. Oh, and my name is Talia.”

  “Yes,” Naomi joined in. “Thank you for bringing a bit of joy into our day.”

  “You’re both welcome,” Virgil said with a smile. “And please, just call me Virgil.”

  “All right, Virgil,” the women said in unison. “How can we be of service to you?”

  “Point me to the best steak restaurant in town.”

  They recommended the hotel steak house located on the top floor of the hotel. After leaving a generous tip for the women and instructing them to make full use of his room while he was away, Virgil left to go grab a bite to eat.

  The crowd outside the restaurant was daunting. Two enormous pillars made of marble stood on both sides of the host’s stand. A red carpet bearing the same design as the carpet in the lobby led up to the stand. Potted palm trees, genetically modified to be more compact, stood every few feet along the carpet.

  Virgil stood, patiently awaiting to approach the host’s stand. A fine mist burst from the trees, causing Virgil to take a small step backward. In a wave, the salty scent of an ocean breeze overtook his nostrils, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  Finally, it was Virgil’s time at the host’s stand. He requested a table for one, which he was refused.

  “What’s the problem?” Virgil asked.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the host said. “But we can’t reserve a table for just one person. It’s our busiest night of the week.”

  Virgil sighed. “Okay. Would it be possible to place an order and have it sent to my room?”

  “I’m afraid not. You’ll have to return to your room and place an order for room service there.”

  “I can’t just do it here? That seems needlessly complicated.”

  “Pardon the intrusion,” a man said behind Virgil, “but I couldn’t help but overhear your dilemma.”

  Virgil turned around to greet the man. He had black medium length hair that was bouncy and full bodied. His eyes were light blue like chiseled sapphires, and his skin looked pale and smooth to the touch. He wore a black collared shirt under a burgundy sweater and a gold band around his right pinky.

  Another man, just as tall as Virgil, stood to the first man’s right. His skin was white as well, but much rosier. He had long red hair and a jawline strong enough to crack steel. He wore jeans, boots and a brown tee
shirt. A black rope necklace hung loosely around his neck, but what was most notable about the man was the tattoo on his right arm. It was a black dragon stretched across his bicep, breathing fire.

  To the first man’s left stood a third man, although he was considerably shorter than the other two. He wore a pair of black shorts and sandals with white socks and a collared short-sleeved shirt. He had brown skin, and even though his eyes were closed, he looked directly where Virgil was standing.

  “My name is Lucious,” the man said. “The gentleman on my left here is Chad, and on my right is Fynn. I believe we can help you with your dinner problem.”

  Lucious stepped forward and stood next to Virgil. “My friends and I have a reservation for three,” he said to the host. “I assume it wouldn’t be too much trouble to add one more to our table.” Lucious then turned to Virgil. “If it’s all right with you, of course.”

  “Thank you for the offer,” Virgil said, raising his hand, “but I’d hate to intrude on your evening.”

  “Nonsense,” Lucious exclaimed. “Tonight’s a guys’ night out. You are a guy, aren’t you?”

  “I-I am. I guess if you insist, I—”

  “Splendid!”

  “All right then, Mr. Wright,” the host said. “Just give us a moment to prepare the table for you.”

  Within no time, Virgil, Lucious, Chad, and Fynn were sitting at their table. It was set with a clean cream-colored linen sheet, and the chairs were wooden with thick fabric cushions. A mass of floating chandeliers lit the room, and a pianist off in the distance provided a tranquil ambiance.

  Virgil did his best to try and blend in. He kept his order simple: a ribeye cooked medium well, mashed potatoes, and a bed of steamed vegetables. When prompted for a wine selection, he simply repeated what the other men were having—Cabernet Sauvignon imported from the Amber Nation. Virgil tried to only speak when spoken to, which turned out to be easier than expected. The longer the conversation went on, the more it became apparent these men came from noble families.

  “You know, Virgil,” Lucious said, after emptying his glass of wine, “you’ve been pretty much quiet the entire evening. I suppose you must be the strong silent type.”