The Legendary Firestone. Book 2. Behind the Veils

by Reja Emran

  "Certainly not," spat the commander, emitting a spray of rancid breath, his serpent like tongue coiling menacingly. "This is the demon king's land."

  "Is that true?" raged the woman before the demon, tossing her chin assertively, "I would like to meet this King!"

  The commander raised the portion of his eye where there would have been an arched eyebrow but now there was only a crinkling of the mottled skin. He slightly hesitated and then held a low discussion with the other demons in an abominable language. Then turning back to the woman, he sneered, "You are who?"

  "Aria, Sorceress of the Evil Realms, Lady of Nebula and am also known as my common name, Death Wind" she replied hotly. Then she gave a grin of satisfaction.

  At once the demon's hostile expression changed. His dark red flesh was illuminated by a glint in his molten yellow eyes. Throwing the iron spear he was holding, the creature attempted to clean his grimy mail. Flashing a coppery smile, he gave her passage into Nebula allowing only Axhelius with her because of Aria's demand.

  My home, my land, she thought with adoration. Aria gazed at Nebula with a smile, her home which was still unchanged. The colossal castle and widespread grounds were surrounded by a barrier of volcanic mountains with misty scarlet clouds revolving at their serrated peaks. The dying grass was marked with wilting roses and on the far side a crater could be perceived where dozens of nightmares were grazing besides a pool of frothing lava, seen by these stallions as a source of refreshment and sustenance. As Aria approached the castle made of grey stones and splendid towers, she felt a surge of delight wash through her senses.

  The demon entered a hallway, walls lined with plenty guards who eyed the two intruders suspiciously but said not a word. The broad, intricate doors were opened by two bottle green goblins, common residents of Nebula and they excitedly squeaked as their former 'Majesty' strode in, their oversized ears twitching and their impish eyes dancing merrily. The throne room consisted of a seat darkly engraved by ancient designs and painted with archaic silver. Huge midnight blue curtains were draped over the windows, leaving the nominal brilliance of the candles as the only source of light.

  Aria gazed at the King in amazement and exchanged glances with Axhelius who most certainly was appalled.

  "Greetings Aria or shall I say the Death Wind. Do you like my fortress?" he asked, laughing hoarsely.

  The King sat high and with arrogance, clutching only a golden spear to signify his royalty. His body was clad in the thickest, filthiest robes which concealed his body except his demonic face. He had not been bestowed with wings as the rest of his associates but was the sole demon that possessed two sharp, curled horns that grew where there should have been ears.

  "Your fortress?" asked Aria, raising a brown eyebrow, her sapphire eyes scrutinizing this new face with unease.

  "Oh! My mistake…let me introduce myself. I am King Vien, Lord of the Demon forces, The Onis." His voice resonated in the hall as he continued, "I am well aware that you must feel angered at my impudence at taking over you fortress but in reality I was awaiting your return and decided to rest in Nebula during your prolonged absence. I have been wishing to visit you for long for it has come to my attention that you are brewing an evil scheme against the Annoxonum…she is a well trained girl according to my spies. It seems that Ching and Asra are training that youth well…" The last part was spoken in despise and his eyes reflected sheer hatred. “Nevertheless, I am more than sorry for angering you and I hope you will forgive me.”

  Aria faltered a bit as she had not expected this explanation but regaining herself she answered, "I am honored that you have consumed your time in my wait and you are welcome to remain here providing that my forces are let in."

  "Open the gates" commanded Vien and then his gaze fell on Axhelius. "Axhelius…long time no see…you have deformed but his evil suits you" he said, once again laughing in a raspy tone of voice.

  "Vien, it is a pleasure to meet you after all these years, you don’t look so bad yourself compared to what you once were" responded Axhelius huskily staring at the sour recognition which streaked the demon’s face for a second.

  Then, Vien turned back to the sorceress and a sugary smile lit his face. "Aria, my dear, come let us have a meal and talk…you as well Axhelius. Do not worry; the demons will accommodate your troops. I have taken the liberty of using the kitchens of your palace."

  Aria did not reply and she stood with a rigid back as he descended the throne. To the surprise of the two companions, the Demon King led them to a table furnished with fresh flowers and candles. Platters of meatballs, rice and gravy were spread out carefully on the glossy surface along with glasses of a deep cherry wine and a soft music had occupied the air.

  Aria slid off her velvet robe and laid it on the side of the chair, revealing her enthralling beauty. Vien gaped as he eyed Aria from top to bottom; taking in her bare shoulders and the way the dress brought to light her flourishing complexion, the skin like ivory against the teal dress which was embroidered with black. Unable to say anything due to the sudden dryness in his mouth, Vien just lifted Aria's hand and kissed it finding it remarkably smooth and icy against his coarse, scorching lips which sent a momentary shudder of terror through his nerves. This woman bore power that could destroy him at the spot and he needed to tread carefully in her icy presence.

  Recollecting himself, Vien said "I have prepared this meal especially for you, My Lady." Smiling at him in cool gratification, Aria seated herself besides him and began to feast along side Axhelius, whose self-control gave in to his ravenous appetite, and he hungrily gobbled the food, throwing bits on the floor around his bowl. Neither of the leaders knew where this friendship would take them as they eyed each other with concealed distrust.

  ***

  "So Cyrillon why don't you think that you belong to the Royal Elentians?" asked Xia, curiosity kindling her interest in this man. She then scooped a spoonful of vegetables into her mouth as she waited for an answer.

  After a momentary pause, Cyrillon replied, "I am not from the line of the Royal Elentians and belong to another heredity, of which I yet do not have knowledge. The nobles have told me of my adoption but not of my lineage."

  "Oh…" said Xia softly trying to digest what he was saying while she gazed at her half-full plate, playing with chunks of beef and pushing them to the edges. “So what brings you here?"

  "Queen Arean, the phoenix of Sacred Glove, dispatched me here for a period and I shall receive further orders in due course," answered the Elentian in between spoonfuls of the savory steaming stew which Asra had prepared. His plate had been heaped with everything and he even found a tiny space to place some sweet sauce. It drew looks of surprise from the girls but the elders knew that he had been traveling for an entire week with little food.

  An awkward silence settled and Xia gave the say-something-and-break-the-silence-look to her Magicka friend, whose mouth formed a small 'o'. "Cyr-cur-Ilion…umm…Mr. Simian, do you know the Guardian Aniah?" Julian asked, blushing over her mistake at which Xia started giggling uncontrollably but for her friend's sake she converted her laughter into a cough. Cyrillon didn't seem to notice as the question had caught him by surprise and he couldn’t resist the urge to ask its reason.

  Julian, after shooting a glance of mock anger at Xia, responded, "Well I just wanted to know if any one else knew her besides us. She doesn’t come anymore so we were wondering that if she is alright."

  "Aniah is well known in both Sacred Glove and Tyrendale" said Cyrillon, his grey eyes shining with fondness, "I too have had the pleasure of meeting her and I know that so far no harm has come to her. I hope it never does." Looking down, he continued his meal in silence with no intention of engaging in further conversation.

  Xia and Julian gazing at his quietness for a while started a whispered chat while the elders were engrossed in their own issues mainly concerning the two girls. The plates lay forgotten in their talk and occasionally some harsh whispers came from Asra or Ching which we
re hushed by Adam who purposely started sipping with loud noises at which Julian arched her eyebrows. Xia on the other hand just smiled with amusement knowing the reason for the discord between her grandfather and mother.

  Raven glanced at Cyrillon's face and then peered through the nightfall, awaiting the return of his mother who had set out to Sacred Glove. Cyrillon too was observing the dusky sky with a perturbing expression, his somber eyes riveted to the pasty moon which waxed and waned behind a wisp of grey clouds. The sinister darkness fell heavily and he noticed Khazdul sleeping near the spring, the rope still intact. With a small sigh, Cyrillon turned back to his plate and moved the food around, his hunger replaced by an unexplainable fear.

  ***

  Fiona dropped down in a hidden clearing, her wings resting on the ground as Aniah jumped off hastily. Her boots landed on the damp floor heavily and a small pain went up her ankles but that she ignored.

  "Where is this?" asked the Guardian, clearly tense due to her strange surroundings. She had traveled far but this place had a strange aura. It was an aura which glimmered with evil, with the taint of the Shadow.

  Fiona replied swiftly, "It is the heart of the Sevin Jungle. Cronin Heflën. I thought that this should be the place to start the search."

  Aniah stealthily treaded forward noting the change in the jungle and crouched behind a large boulder. She had understood Fiona’s last comment. This was the heart of the corrupted jungle, and it was a cursed land where the ground bore only weeds. Cronin Heflën had been the citadel of the creatures that walked the dark trails and years ago several had been killed. It still remained the monument to evil; still a memory which could not be cleansed. It was a dark, horrific memory which would never be erased, not at least as long as the Shadow was alive to spread it’s curse.

  "What is that?" she muttered to herself, squinting to see as the twilight was gradually diminishing to an obscurity. The moon was waxing and waning behind the heavy clouds and that further darkened Cronin Heflën.

  Fiona eyes adjusted to the dimness readily and peered in the direction Aniah was looking at. "It's a cave."

  "That I can see…but can you perceive the red glow in the centre?" questioned Aniah, as she slowly crouched forward, straining to get a better look. Fiona utilized her powers, her vision penetrating the gloomy cave and then she gasped.

  "Aniah, it is the firestone!" she announced excitedly, "Let us go get it!"

  "No," ordered the Guardian, "Go back and inform Arean."

  "I won’t leave you alone! Never!" said Fiona, defiantly.

  "Go Fiona, there is danger near the cave, I can sense it" said Aniah, "We need forces for a dark mass lurks nearby." Aniah was lying, there was only small evil near the cave but she felt something in her heart. Something which she knew was dangerous, something which was powerful. Aniah knew it was in her power to destroy the foulness in the cave but some barrier held her back, something that she could not define, but it was a strong sensation as if Klamath played a role in her feelings. Besides, there was an aura of imminent danger around the area, one which was not small enough to be curbed by her alone.

  "But…no…" started Fiona, her beak clicking in disapproval. Never would she leave the Guardian, unless the woman hit her. She grimaced at the thought.

  "Go!" commanded Aniah. Though her voice was composed, it held authority which had to be abided by. Fiona reluctantly drew back and with a glance at the staunch Guardian, the phoenix speedily flew back to the Glove.

  The hooded creature glimpsed at Fiona without the Guardian in surprise. "Finally." it whispered icily as it plunged into the deeper part of the woods, determined to reach the Guardian by dawn at the most.

  It could wait no longer.

  ~ Chapter Five ~

  Fiona raced to Sacred Glove, accelerating through the night sky and reaching her parents at the break of dawn, when the sun’s first rays sparkled on the horizon. With deep breaths, the phoenix approached the Fortress and informed her parents of the Guardian’s position, fiery flames escaping as the exhausted creature struggled to provide comprehensive information, battling against an agonizing pain which was building up inside her chest. Then the pressure within gave way and as the phoenix finished her last sentence, she exploded into ashes which shimmered to the floor in a pile.

  Arean was astounded but she waited Fiona’s rebirth which was to occur very shortly. It was unfortunate that she had been disintegrated at this time when she was needed the most. The Queen glared at the servants who were snickering at the sight and they immediately stopped their faces ashen with fear of rebuke. A small, featherless pink body emerged from the ashes and as it was taken away to the nursery, its tiny grey beak formed three words, “Aniah needs help.”

  Queen Sinardin arrived shortly after this in her highly wrought carriage from Tyrendale to question the progress and was briefed of the situation by Arean.

  “Send Cyrillon to Aniah,” suggested Sinardin, “The Annoxonum can be aided by Fiona after her growth. It will happen shortly if I am correct.”

  “But she will be unprotected” countered Arean.

  “No, she has friends and allies who will safe guard her for the time being. You know this. The Guardian’s safety is necessary; she is the only one we can trust. The others on the other hand are unmentionable.”

  Arean thought in silence and then with a resolute gaze, she commanded the sprite to dispatch Kerfina.

  “I just hope he reaches her in time,” said Sinardin with a grave expression her eyes shining oddly.

  “We all do.”

  ***

  Cyrillon smiled as he stroked the russet mane of Khazdul who was neighing softly and frivolously thumping his hooves on the grass in impatience for the stallion was thirsty for another adventure, its black eyes shining with profound interest at his open surroundings.

  Then giving in to the horse’s soundless requests, Cyrillon released him to the creature’s delight. It pranced on the lush prairie and cantered in circles, rearing high with joy and neighing ecstatically to show its admiration to his master, who laughed heartily.

  “Your horse is incredible.”

  Cyrillon turned around and saw the Annoxonum approaching, her eyes fixed on the stallion who observed this stranger with uncertainty but after noticing its master’s calm composure, Khazdul continued his gamboling on the extensive plains.

  “Good morning Annoxonum,” said Cyrillon warmly as Xia advanced him, her wet hair glistening in the sun.

  “Hi!” answered Xia curtly and then fingering her damp hair she remarked, “Just took a bath.”

  Cyrillon nodded and then seated himself on the grass and his suit was followed by Xia, rather reluctantly as she hated sitting on the grass for she was afraid of lizards especially after the last time Ching had placed one on her head as a joke. Xia nervously bit her lip and saw Cyrillon glance at her, noticing her unease. He did not ask for the reason for her discomfort but had a nearly accurate suspicion that it was something to do with insects as she kept glancing at the grass.

  “How is your training progressing?” asked Cyrillon and Xia looked up, her eyes momentarily on him instead of the cricket hopping by.

  “My training is going well and will be better if I can learn how to counter sword attacks and block the arrows. You never know who I’ll go up against. I mean I know I should use a shield and all but I can’t do that. It seriously disrupts my balance and then I start blundering with the dagger.”

  “To counter sword attacks just use your agility and the same for the arrows, with this in mind that you must maintain a constant speed of attack with no hindrance especially during combat,” put in Cyrillon with an alacrity as he had been reared in practice battle grounds all his life and had been trained by strict instructors, some champions of the Spire. “If you do not mind, I would like to see you fight. It is rare to see an Annoxonum in battle and perhaps I may be able to aid you in your combat moves. Shall we sparse in a while?”

  “Of cours
e and thanks for helping,” grinned Xia, comfortable and tucking a lock of wet hair behind her ears she asked, “What’s the name of your horse?”

  “Khazdul” answered Cyrillon as he glanced at the stallion speeding across the plains with a thin smile of amusement.

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means the Glorious Steed.”

  “Cool…How did you get him?” asked Xia curiously.

  A smile lit his face as Cyrillon described the events that brought him and this fine horse together and how they spent their childhood together in Tyrendale. He even spoke of supernatural matters concerning the eminence of the leaf-shaped white patch on the steed’s forehead which, to Xia’s surprise, was a magical mark which bore inexplicable powers. The Annoxonum was fascinated by the wealth of historical know-ledge this Elentian possessed and felt a thirst to know more thereby bombarding him with questions which he seemed to enjoy answering.

  Cyrillon did not stop after answering her questions, he ventured into further territory beyond the scopes of time. He spoke of the times of the warlords who had invaded the kingdom of the Elentian people, reigning over them with an iron fist and torturing those who rebelled and of the arcane temples built long ago by the Elentian heroes who believed in complete absolution through meditation. Besides this he even told Xia that she was the only Annoxonum and person who was a Chinese besides Ching and her mother who could see the Magic Plains and that her ancestors belonged to another race altogether which was evident in their offspring; the three Guardians who possessed exquisite features which did not appear in women folk today.

  The borders of the Magic Plains, as he related, extended only till Deadfall Creek and from there they ceased to exist as the land spread far and wide into realms seen by normal people as barren wastelands; lifeless and bleak. According to the laws laid by the Elders, no creature of the Magic Plains was able to cross the threshold of these lands except for a few including the fallen Axhelius and of course the Annoxonum. He never ceased talking and spoke clearly with a strong voice, radiating wisdom in all spheres of life.