The Prince of Earthen Fire

by B C Penling

  Another volley of arrows rained down upon the advancing army, dropping a few enemies when they pierced their skulls or hearts. They were halfway to the gates when another flood of Warisai rushed from beneath the obscurity of the trees. The wave of enemy charged toward the city, following the rest. The mounted units retreated within the walls to restock their quivers with arrows.

  The soldiers on the wall sent a volley of arrows at the Warisai. It showered the first wave that were finally within range but did little damage to their numbers.

  Zen saw his chance. Before the next volley could be released, he plummeted to earth. Feet above the Warisai’s heads, he released some of the brightest, hottest fire that Lana had ever seen or felt. She shielded her face from the intense heat. The Warisai in his path roared as it washed over them. Their flesh was incinerated from their bones, leaving nothing but skeletons and a wide black scar of ash amid the neatly tended field.

  Zen’s gained altitude, whipped himself around quickly, dove down, and conflagrated another line of Warisai. He planned to enflame the land straight up to the forest’s edge. His anger at them was evident as he bellowed and circled around to kill more. Diving to the ground, he streaked the throng with another line of death and shot back into the sky once more. The men behind the wall sent another volley at their enemies. Zen rolled sharply, anxious to end their advances.

  With the sudden move, the leather straps on the aged saddle failed. Lana’s breath caught in her throat. Choked by fear, she tumbled backwards without a shout. Never did she imagine that when she woke that morning her life would end that day. The unexpected snuck upon her and served her with misfortune. She watched Zen’s tail whip past her then nothing but blue sky. She plunged towards her demise, the solid and unforgiving earth. She saw the tops of trees and knew her end was coming soon.

  Good bye, Zen.

  A few yards above the ground, the welcoming whoosh of Zen’s wings filled her ears. His long, black talons wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest as his wings wrapped tightly closed around her. His spikes left a large scar of displaced soil as he collided with the ground and slid to a stop.

  Lana unfastened the lap belt, crawled out of his talons and then from beneath his wings. Her legs were shaking and weakness from fear dominated her body. She dropped to the ground, calling out to Zen, urging him to get up. His eyes were half open, unfocused, and the fire within them had extinguished. His chest was heaving as he gasped for air. The wind was knocked from him when he hit the ground and the pain from his spides plowing the earth was crippling.

  Her heart welled with emotions which then effervesced into strength. She had to protect her friend, her dragon, her brother. Her body regained its fortitude. Her hand found its way to the hilt of her sword. She withdrew the glinting blade of Malbane. Her mind wandered to the murders of her family and all her kin. It could not happen to Zen. He was all she had.

  The Warisai, after observing the spectacle, began to advance rapidly. “Get the girl first!” shouted a Warisai. “We’ll feast on the dragon later!” In the distance were sounds of battle as half the Warisai army began their assault on the southern gate.

  Lana stepped around Zen. Dread and rage overcame her. She was not about to let those murderers eat him. Creeping closer like flies to a wound, their putrid stench was evident in the air. She lunged at the first Warisai to reach her and eviscerated him from shoulder to hip in a swift blow that caught him off guard. Perhaps he expected her to run like their previous victims.

  She spun past him and plunged the blade into the next Warisai’s chest. She withdrew the sword and swung it at another. It struck it on the neck in near decapitation. The Warisai's orange blood collected in the engraved flames on the blade and gave life to the phoenix's fire.

  She widened the distance between them and her and Zen but the Warisai had encircled their prey. They were surrounded.

  “Zen! Get up!” she yelled.

  A tall, bulky warrior stepped toward her. He tripled her size, towering over her. She didn’t give him the chance to attack first. She rushed at him and swung her sword. He parried with his talons and kneed her in the stomach, knocking her back. She rolled to her feet and lunged again. This time, she held her sword above her head. He raised his hand to block her frontal attack that didn’t come. She spun on her heels, went around his side, and swung her sword forcefully. The blade sank deep into his spine. He collapsed heavily.

  The crowd of Warisai roared with amusement. Terror filled her body as she realized that it was a game to them. Lana looked around for help but there was none. She was alone, surrounded by the monsters of her nightmares. She would tire before the last one fell. They knew it too. It didn’t matter. She would fight to the death to save him.

  She was charged by a small Warisai which met its end on her blade much like the others had. She spun around and decapitated another that attacked her from behind. They had started swarming over the top of Zen. She rushed them, sword raised over her shoulder. She made it a few steps before the Warisai went flying through the air. Zen had recovered.

  They rained from the sky after being launched by Zen’s wings. He rolled to his feet and whipped his tail from side to side, knocking Warisai aside. They retreated out of reach and roared their displeasure. He rose to full stature with his wings extended high over his back and glared at the Warisai that was fighting Lana. His eyes were aflame once against with the mystifying fire. He stepped forward and brought himself down heavily on top of the ugly monster. Its bones crunched heavily beneath his weight and its skull popped open.

  He grabbed Lana quickly and placed her over his shoulders. “Hold on!” He shouted. She straddled his topline; one arm wrapped tightly around his spike, the other holding her father’s sword.

  “Give me the elf!” a large Warisai yelled.

  “No!” He growled.

  “Kill him! Leave the elf alive!” he roared.

  Zen lowered his head. A deep, ominous rumbling came from within his chest and neck. Lana knew it wasn’t going to end well for the Warisai. When he opened his mouth, the hot, white flame rushed over the army. Zen spun in a circle and engulfed them in a deadly conflagration. All those in range yelled briefly before turning to ash. The ones who barely escaped instantaneous death fled in fear but their retreat to safety was short lived.

  Barator and his unit had been fighting their way to help Zen and Lana. A wave of diredogs slammed into the Warisai. They were the rebelvolf, the diredogs that never found their soul match. As the berserkers of Barator’s army, they conformed not to any standards of battle. They maimed, mauled, and killed enemies in their path. Without a rider to protect, they were free to fight however they wanted.

  “I guess that takes care of those!” Barator yelled from the back of Flaxen. “That’s twice I’ve saved you! Ha! Glad to see you both safe!” He urged Flaxen forward and charged after the fleeing Warisai as they retreated to the woods.

  Zen smirked. “I’ll never hear the end of this either.”

  “Zen,” Lana said, “are you alright?” She stroked his mane that ran along his spine.

  He nodded. “I’ll be fine. Nothing a few days of rest won’t fix. Landing on spikes is not nice on the back but you’re more than worth it.”

  “Thank you for saving me, Zen,” Lana said meekly.

  “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I had not gotten there in time,” he replied.

  “I thought I lost you.”

  “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.” He smiled over his shoulder.

  Flaxen trotted up to Zen and Lana. “I sent men to pursue the survivors. I don’t want others to learn they made it here,” Barator said scornfully.

  “Wise decision,” Zen commented with a nod. “The less of them alive, the better the rest of us will be.” He puffed out a plume of blue smoke.

  “You might want to rename that sword,” Barator said. “No longer does it slay Malworn.”

  Something twinged in her chest. Rename her f
ather’s sword? He was the one who named it. Was it right for her to rename it? She looked at Malbane. The blood was beginning dry into a grotesque discoloration. While protecting Zen she had spilled Warisai blood the way they spilled her family’s blood. She got her taste of retribution.

  “Retribution. It’s named, Retribution.”

  CHAPTER 12

  FELIS

  She awoke late that evening. Someone was splashing in the nearby pond and for a split second she thought it was the bear. She sat upright and cringed as pain jolted her body. She took a sharp breath and looked up. There it was in front of her; a wild creature with fiercely blue eyes. Expecting it to attack, she slid herself backwards. Pain pulsed through her body and she doubled over. She shuddered and moaned, nauseated by the burning in her leg but didn’t forget about the dark animal sitting close by. She looked through the tears welling in her eyes and saw that it still sat where it had been only now it cocked its head to one side. It hadn’t even advanced a hair’s width towards her.

  “Don’t be afraid,” a beautiful voice said.

  Saia’s eyes widened as she tried to comprehend where she was. She slowly pushed herself backwards until she rested on the boulders beside the crevice. Remembering vaguely what occurred and why she hurt so much. She groaned and closed her eyes as a drunken feeling washed over her.

  “Who are you?” Saia asked distressingly.

  “My name is Amara.”

  “You’re a wolf,” Saia mumbled.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “You can…” Saia began.

  “Yes, I can talk.”

  Saia opened her eyes and stared at Amara for awhile, examining her features. She had a perfect, sleek coat and looked like a shadow; dark, secretive and sly. Her blue eyes were fierce, yet kind and gentle. They had a glimpse of familiarity that Saia couldn’t recognize.

  “Why are you here? Did you save me?” Saia asked.

  “Ochre the felion in the pond behind me killed the bear. The Old Man of the Wilds doctored you.”

  “Who is he? His name?”

  “I cannot tell you his real name because it’s not my secret to share. But, I can tell you that many know him as Old Man.”

  Saia closed her eyes again. She was beginning to believe that she was dreaming. After all, dogs don’t talk. Then again, she’d never met a wolf face-to-face long enough to have a conversation if there was a conversation to be had. Amara sat and watched her, feeling pity for the cat-like girl. She lifted her snout and howled a short, low howl. Within it were many emotions both mournful and rallying. Saia opened her eyes as her spirits lifted.

  “Wow.”

  Ochre looked over at the sound and was delighted to see that Saia was awake and sitting up. He walked over slowly with a kind smile on his face. He knew his size was intimidating and hoped she wouldn’t be frightened. Their eyes met when he was halfway to her. He had a kind, and very wet, face. A weak smile spread across her face. He bowed his head in acknowledgement and lay down.

  “You look silly, Ochre,” Amara said.

  “Amara, so you can speak, then,” Ochre stated. Amara nodded.

  Saia looked at Ochre. He did look quite ridiculous with his soaking wet mane sticking to his legs, sides and back. Saia made an attempt to giggle but it came out mute. She rested her head against the stone behind her and gazed at the sky.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see the blue sky again,” she said softly.

  “Yes, it is quite beautiful,” Ochre replied. “When shall we depart?” he asked Amara.

  “Depart?” Saia said looking into his deep eyes. “Why? Where will we be going? I can’t go anywhere like this.”

  “We cannot stay here forever,” Amara said to her. “We will depart this evening as the first sun begins to rest. We have a while yet so rest until then.”

  “We’re traveling south to the Plains of Felis and onward to the village of Panthera. There you may rest easily among my family and kin.”

  Saia looked away, troubled at that idea. “I’m not one of you though. I am, well, look at me. I don’t belong anywhere.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your appearance,” Ochre said kindly. “Appearances do not matter anyway. It’s the traits within your heart that do.”

  She had been ridiculed by everyone within the city that she once called home. Now, a total stranger of very different origin was sitting before her and telling her that her looks didn’t matter. Her own family disowned her and yet Ochre felt different? Ochre saw value in her?

  Tears welled in her eyes. She squeezed them closed tightly and lowered her chin to avoid their gaze. It had been a long time since someone had spoken nicely to her and treated her well.

  A large paw landed on her shoulder like a feather on sand. A voice as soft as a novelyear breeze said, “You need not cry, Saia. I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “It’s not that,” Saia sobbed. “You’ve showed me more kindness than my own family.”

  Ochre felt pity for the outcast. “You are a part of my family now,” Ochre said, lifting his paw. “You will be welcomed warmly and live safe in our home. Go ahead and get some rest.”

  That evening, as Sunwake began its routine descent and Sunrest followed, Amara and Ochre packed the few things they had into a leather satchel and carefully moved Saia onto a sled made of vines and tree boughs that Ochre had prepared. He had woven the vines and branches meticulously to ensure it was strong enough to bear her weight and last until they reached Felis. He picked a loop of vine in his mouth and pulled gently. He started down the narrow game trail that paralleled the southern flowing stream. Amara tailed close behind to keep an eye on Saia. Thus began their journey to the felion town of Panthera.

  They were unbothered by any creature in the wood that night which Saia attributed to Ochre’s size. They traveled through the thick forest and into the rich grasslands of the Plains of Felis. The grass thickened the further away from the forest they became. As it thickened it also became taller and easily twice Amara’s height. It smelled sweet and earthy.

  Scattered among the dense grasses were many herds of elands. Their two long spiral horns rose above the grass and moved back and forth while they grazed. The odd trio watched them as they rested beneath a lone maple tree halfway through the day. Their legs were slender and muscular, perfect for propelling them through the high grass. Their bodies were large and bulky and, as Ochre said, that made them extra delicious.

  Ochre yawned gapingly, stretched and mentioned, “I’ll be happy to be home. My jaw is tired of biting that vine. It’s beginning to taste horrible, too.”

  Saia looked at the saliva sodden vine and the feelings of being a burden arose in her mind.

  “You’re not,” Amara said.

  “What?” Saia asked.

  “You’re not a burden.”

  “There has to be a better way than carrying it in his mouth,” Saia replied. “I know I wouldn’t care to do it as long.”

  “You should never think of yourself as a burden, Saia,” Ochre said. “I’m fine with pulling you.”

  “Sore jaw or not, he’ll get you there as promised.”

  “Promised?” Saia inquired.

  “I promised Old Man that you would be in my care,” Ochre replied.

  “Why isn’t he here? I wish I could’ve thanked him for the medicine.”

  “He felt the necessity to leave and when he does, he needs to,” Amara said. “Time cannot wait around, for his own reasons, Saia. I shall depart soon as well.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Saia protested.

  “We’ll meet again. That I’ll promise you,” Amara looked into Saia’s eyes. She saw her honesty within. They fell silent again, as silent as the elands grazing.

  “Is there a better way?” Saia asked Ochre. “It pains me to see you uncomfortable, especially since I’m the cause of it.”

  “I doubt so,” he replied. “It’s only another day. Besides, I’ll have plenty of time to rest my jaw after arrival.”
/>
  “If walking is all you do, Ochre, I think I’m strong enough to lie on your back,” Saia suggested.

  Ochre tossed back his head and laughed. The eland spooked, trotted away and settled once they figured out they weren’t in any danger. His thick mane was rustled by the breeze as he looked at Saia, his light yellow eyes sparkling, and said with a chuckle, “I’m a mount for no one.”

  Saia, feeling stupid for having suggested it, hung her head and mumbled her apologies. Shortly after her words left her mouth, Ochre’s large toe lifted her chin.

  “There’s no need for you to excuse yourself, Saia. You hardly know anything of felions. I took no offense. It would have worked had I been a horse or other beast of burden,” Ochre said softly, with a faint, amused smile. Saia smiled sheepishly in return. She certainly didn’t want to cross her new friends. Friends… They were the only ones she’s had since her drastic transformation. She didn’t realize how desperate she was for company. After being pushed aside by everyone she once called family, friend and neighbors, she became accustomed to being alone.

  Ochre’s attention was drawn away from Saia as a herd of eland sprang their way through the grass, leaping six feet into the air with each bound. Close on the heels of the smallest and slowest eland was a young felion. He had a short scruffy mane and a dark, striped body that was lean and strong. As the eland landed after a four foot leap, the felion’s claws sank into its rump. It bellowed and kicked out, hitting its pursuer hard in the shoulder and chest. The felion landed in the grass with the eland and rolled into a heap of fur.

  The eland sprang up and bolted away to join the rest of its herd. The felion raised his head with a look of frustration on his face. He rose to his feet, a bit defeated, and shook himself.

  “Tigthero!” Ochre called loudly.

  The felion’s attention turned to the maple tree and, spotting Ochre, he trotted over with a slight favor in his gait.

  “Ochre,” he said, nodding his head in respect.