Cast in Fire

by Zora Marie

  “Is there anything more I can do?” Rogath asked.

  Yalif paused to glance at him. “No, but you can take a break if you need to.”

  Rogath shook his head. “I’m the only one she knows. I don’t want her to freak out if she wakes.”

  Yalif nodded and continued the tedious task of removing the shrapnel.

  Zelia wished she could reach out and tell Rogath she would be okay, but she had no way to do so with his emotions such a mess. He didn’t even seem to feel her presence as he usually did, though it may have been her own body’s exhaustion pushing her to be a silent presence in the back of his mind. Besides, she wasn’t sure if this was real or just some mind trick the wizards were playing on her. But for the first time in centuries, she held a sliver of hope in her heart, no matter how mangled it was.

  >

  It was several hours later when Yargo returned.

  “The blast that caused this, do you know what spell he used?” Yalif asked.

  “No, why?” Yargo asked, then seeing Rogath he glared. “So, this is where you have been, your mother has been looking all over for you.”

  “Do not mind him, he has been helping,” Yalif said. “I need to know what spell he used. Some shrapnel has bonded to her heart and lungs. I cannot remove all of it. I have been trying for hours.”

  Rogath’s gaze dropped to the bowl full of shrapnel that they had removed, it was the size of a dinner plate and was almost full. “Mother may be able to pull residual magic from these and figure out what spell he used,” Rogath said and handed the bowl to Yargo.

  “He is right. Now do not come back until you have an answer or the metal plate,” Yalif said, shooing Yargo from the room.

  “What now?” Rogath asked, needing to help.

  “Now we stitch what we can. There is some thread that will dissolve with time in the cabinet, in the blue jar.”

  Rogath went to the wood cabinet and pulled a little blue jar from a shelf at eye level. He watched as Yalif pulled a length of thin white thread from the jar and threaded a needle. He needed something, anything to do. Watching Yalif move with the slow tediousness of a master while Zelia’s life hung in the balance was about to drive him mad.

  “Would you work on cleaning the dirt and blood from her while I do this?” Yalif asked. “Just make sure you dump the water often, so she does not get an infection. There is sterilized water in the barrel behind you.”

  Rogath turned, finding a bowl and sponge sitting on top of the barrel. He drew water from the tap, the slow stream driving him to use his powers. When he stood, he stared at the sponge.

  “Do I have to use the sponge, or can I—”

  “Yes, you may use your powers. While you are at it, warm the water. She’s losing too much heat.”

  Rogath nodded, letting a flame lick up the sides of the bowl, warming it like he would his bathwater. They had created mechanisms to heat their water, but sometimes he found it faster to warm it himself. Besides, he seldom had a reason to use fire. His mother always pushed the use of air and water above all else.

  He pushed the water across her skin, scrubbing years of dirt from her inch by inch. Each time the water clouded with dirt or blood, he would pause and push the particles from the water and into a bucket Yalif kept by the door. The drain of using his powers felt nice, it made him feel as though he was helping. As he cleaned, he found that her skin was paler than it had seemed. Between the lack of light and loss of blood, her skin was the lightest he had ever seen, its color standing in stark contrast to even his own pale skin. Terik was always the one graced with a stunning tan, but Zelia made him feel downright sun kissed.

  >

  The plate for her ribcage came with word that Zivu couldn’t pull anything from the shrapnel. So Yalif finished and slathered his special healing salve across her open wounds. Half of the front of her ribcage was missing and each time he tried to bond the metal to her ribs with magic the connection fell apart. At last, he wiped his hands and conceded.

  “You may want to leave for this,” Yalif said.

  “No. I’ll help hold her still.”

  Rog moved to her shoulders and was shocked at how cold and clammy her skin had become, even with his water warmed. He forced himself to look away as Yalif drove small screws through the plate and into her ribs. With each twist she fought her body’s call for her to return, but when Yalif began to bend her sprung ribs back into place, she slipped back. She couldn’t help but arch her back as she battled the urge to lash out and stop him, her body screaming for him to stop.

  “Shh, you’ll be okay. You’re doing very well,” Yalif comforted her with a soft tone.

  She shuddered as she forced herself to return to Rogath, where she clung to his mind as her body went back to its limp state.

  It seemed like it took an eternity, but Yalif was finally done. He tied off the last of her bandages and stepped out to speak with Yargo. “I’ve done all I can, only time will tell now. But to tell the truth… I wouldn’t count on her making it.”

  “Thank you Yalif.”

  Rogath’s heart sank at the words, she had to make it, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he had been too late.

  6

  “Rog, I need you to tell me everything you know about Zelia.” Yargo said, guiding Rogath to take a seat on a long couch in the study down the hall.

  In a flash of Rog’s memories, Zelia found herself trapped in images of her own past, unable to pull herself from Rog’s mind. Their back ablaze in pain as they crumpled to the damp cave floor, only to be jerked back to their feet for the next lashing. He didn’t feel the pain as she did, but it still blazed through her own mind.

  Chants of unseen men echoed through the cave, Zelia knew the voices well enough, but Rog didn’t place faces with the voices. The chants stopped, replaced by arguments over what to do with their failed creation. Horror ran rampant through Rog’s mind as a man before him burned alive, the searing heat of flames lapped at their outstretched hand, yet they remained unburned. An old man with a long beard leered at them as they struggled to raise their sweat drenched body from the cave floor. Lectures from the same old man over and over of control and destiny and war and how she was the biggest disappointment they’d ever had.

  “Rog?”

  Yargo’s voice snapped them back to the present and for the first time, Rog spilled all the horrors he’d seen through his connection with Zelia. Caught up in Rog’s feelings and memories, she didn’t think of what Rog was saying. What little she caught; she couldn’t believe was coming from his lips. He told Yargo everything, everything from the powers she held to how she tortured and killed people, even children, leaving out only the worst of what she had been through as he couldn’t bring himself to recall them in detail. But she did notice one thing, not once did he think of the true reason for her creation and it made her wonder if he knew?

  Her mind moved and tugged away from Rog’s finding warmth as she returned to her body. Where am I? she thought, her mind spinning as the pain hit her. I was… She rolled from the bed and scanned the room. When her feet hit the ground, she crumpled. Her lungs burned, and she hugged her sides, rocking in a desperate struggle for air.

  “Yargo?” she breathed.

  She pulled the sheet around her shoulders as she staggered to her feet and into the hallway.

  She scanned the corridor, white marble columns capped in gold ran in either direction, with doors standing in the alcoves between them. I really am on Hyperia? Why did Yargo bring me here? Wait… that was real. That’s why Rog was telling Yargo about me, but that means he didn’t know what I am and what I’ve done before he brought me here. What will happen when they find out? What will Rog think when he learns the wizards created me to kill them, everyone he cares about? She forced herself from her rampaging thoughts and looked around. She stood at the open edge of a balcony and her breath caug
ht at the sight of the clear, blue sky. Easing down against a giant column until her back rested against it, she scanned the horizon and saw Hyperia with her own eyes for the first and maybe last time. It’s even more beautiful in person. People bustled in the busy streets, horses moved to and from the stables, and water rushed beneath the bridge that led to the passage to Mineria. She watched the water flow over the edge of what seemed to be the world itself and allowed herself to drift from her pain and questions, to enjoy this little slice of peace before it could come crashing down around her.

  “She’s missing!” Yalif’s voice echoed from the hall and pulled her conscious mind back to the present.

  “She’s missing? Where could she have gone? It’s not like she could have just gotten up and walked off,” Yargo said.

  “Yes, she could have.” Zelia’s attention perked at the sound of Rog’s voice, it seemed sweeter to the ear than in her head.

  “I doubt that, she shouldn’t have even woken up for days, let alone walked off!” Yalif said.

  “How would you know? You know nothing about her.” Zelia imagined Rog shaking his head as his gliding step drew closer.

  “And just where do you think you are going?” Yargo asked.

  The tap of Rog’s feet ceased. “I’m going to find Zelia.” He didn’t wait for his Father’s reply before his pace quickened until he came to the balcony. He crept around the column, as if scared of what he might find.

  “Rog, I…” her voice trailed off. She hugged the lower half of her chest, her breathing strained as she sucked in shallow breaths.

  “It’s okay, we don’t need to talk, let’s just sit.”

  She edged away, her mind begging her to run and never look back. What if he ends up like all the others? What if this is all just part of the wizards’ plan? No, that won’t happen, I won’t let myself…

  “Zelia, you… you’re safe here.”

  But you’re not, not as long as I’m here. She turned her head away.

  “Asenten can’t control you anymore. Yargo and his warriors killed him.”

  She could feel the warmth of his hand grow closer and she fought with herself, part of her yearned to connect with him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to close the gap.

  “So, this is who you’ve been seeing in your dreams.” Rog’s hand shot back at the sound of his brother’s voice right behind him. “I didn’t really believe you. So… how did you know she’d be here?”

  “She’s always been drawn here. I could feel her pulling me here every time I passed. She loves the stars and is fascinated by the passage to her realm.”

  “Feel her pulling you here?” Terik asked, confused.

  “We each see what the other did that day, or are doing, whenever we sleep. At least, I think that’s how it works.”

  A shadow fell across her and she looked up to see Rog’s mother, Zivu, kneel beside her.

  “Zelia, you are welcome to stay here with us.”

  “I… thank you, Lady Zivu.”

  “You’ll love it here, I promise,” Rog assured her.

  “Yeah, welcome to the family, sis,” Terik said as he leaned against Rog’s shoulder.

  “Perhaps we should let Zelia rest, she has been through a great deal.”

  “I don’t think she wants to go lie down,” Rogath said.

  She glanced at him, then turned back to the view outside. He was right, rest was the last thing she wanted when her time here could be cut short at any second.

  “Hm, well, Rog, how about you and Terik show Zelia around after you grab her some clothes,” Zivu suggested as she rocked onto her feet. “That is, if you are up to it.”

  Zelia nodded. While her pain was nearly overwhelming, her longing to be outdoors again was stronger.

  “Come on, we’ll give you the official tour, right Terik?”

  Rog stepped into her line of sight, a mischievous grin on his face and offered her his hand. It was the first time she’d seen his face when it wasn’t a reflection she saw through his eyes. His wide grin captivated her attention and drew her to reach for his hand and made her question how long it had been since she had given a genuine smile. The thought reminded her of what was happening, and she looked away from his face, pulling her hand back.

  “It’s okay, there’s nothing to fear here Zelia,” Rog said, his shoulders dropped, and he pushed his hand closer to her. “Please?”

  The need to pull away still gripped at her, but she forced herself to take his hand. Even if it was just an illusion created by Asenten, she needed this.

  They were about to pass the infirmary when Yalif stopped them. “You should not be up and walking.”

  “It is okay Yalif, the boys will keep an eye on her,” Zivu said, yet there was something about her tone that implied that they wouldn’t be the only ones watching.

  The chance to make a break for it before him, Rog led Zelia down the hallway and Terik trailed close behind.

  7

  “Watch this!” Rog dropped Zelia’s hand and ran towards the pond. When he reached the water’s edge it erupted in movement with a wave of Rog’s hand.

  “Awesome, you’ll have to show me how sometime,” Zelia said. I wish I could be more like you, Rog. So carefree, viewing the world with curiosity, but then I’d risk hurting or even killing everyone…

  Caught up in his own feelings of excitement, Rog flashed a broad smile. “You know, we could learn together!”

  “And I can teach you to fight, well, once you’re healed,” said Terik from his stone perch above the rocky shore.

  Zelia forced a smile and looked back and forth between them. “I’d love that.” She drew a deep breath, steeling herself, and sat against Terik’s rocky perch.

  “Are you okay?” Rog asked.

  Her fingers dug into her side as she let out the breath she held. “I’ll be fine, it just hurts.”

  She could feel Terik’s gaze as his blurred form climbed down the side of the rock.

  “She doesn’t look so well. We should get her back inside.”

  No. She shook her head. She didn’t want to go back inside, but the lid she kept on her pain slipped, the steady trickle that leaked out swelling to a torrent. All the pain she had suppressed swelled to the surface, and she leaned forward, gasping.

  “Guard! Help! Come quickly!” was the last thing she heard as she fell into Rog’s arms.

  >

  She opened her eyes to find Yalif checking her temperature, as sweat dripped from her brow.

  “Zelia, how are you feeling?”

  “F... fine.”

  “You should be dead,” he said with a puzzled look.

  “You’re right, I should be.”

  She sighed and refused to meet his gaze.

  “Zelia, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

  “I don’t think Asenten was trying to kill Yargo, though the spell could have if he was any of the other wizards. No, he was trying to kill me. I just don’t know why.”

  “Why would he use a spell strong enough to kill a god to kill you?”

  “Because I can’t die, at least not really. I still remember how it felt as they swept up my ashes and the pain as my body took years to reconstruct the first time. It’s strange how I can heal from that, yet normal injuries linger.”

  “How? You’re not a phoenix,” Yalif said, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I... I just can’t let myself or my powers hurt anyone else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My powers are only meant to hurt people, even me.” She sat up, her chest screaming in protest, but she ignored it.

  “Magic is not meant to hurt. I’m sure Yargo and the others will do all they can to help you.”

  “If they don’t find out…” she muttered to herself.


  “Find out what?”

  She shook her head and a silent moment passed before Yargo appeared in the doorway.

  “Thank you Yalif, I will take her from here,” Yargo said.

  I never should have told him. I never should have told anyone, she thought as Yalif withdrew from the room.

  Yargo sat beside her and waited until she shifted under his gaze.

  “You know, if you feel the need to talk, you can always talk to Lumid or myself. There is nothing you need to hide from us.”

  Caught in thoughts of the past an image rose before her eyes, one of a pleading man’s face with blood dripping from the little boy he held tight in his arms. She swallowed hard, shivered, and shook herself back to the present.

  “Why do you trust me? You don’t know me. How do you… how do you know I won’t hurt you or your family?” Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she refused to let them spill over.

  Yargo gave a small, sad smile. “I don’t know for certain, but I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us on purpose. You proved that when you were willing to sacrifice yourself to protect me and my men. Rogath told me how your powers react to one another. I know your ribs shattered like that because you used ice to protect us when you shouldn’t have.”

  “That’s just it, I did it for selfish reasons. I wanted you to kill Asenten. But…” She pulled away, unable to do anything but loathe herself and what she had become.

  Yargo swept her hair out of her face.

  “Zelia, there is no shame in wanting to be free of an abusive captor. Even if it means that the captor must die in order for you to do so.”