The Prince of Earthen Fire

by B C Penling

  Zen stepped quietly on the cobblestone street. His talons clicked louder than he would have liked as he wound through the roadways to the city center. Crickets chirped among the hedges beside the buildings. The fountains were bubbling and spouting. Their cascading water illuminated by ethereal lights of earthen colors. They continuously changed, making for a dazzling spectacle.

  “Wow,” Zen said. “Elves sure know how to decorate.”

  “Yes,” Lana replied. “We had similar fountains in Arbortown.”

  Zen reached out to the closest fountain and put his hand in the water. It glowed in his palm and pulsed in rhythm of his heartbeat. It slowly slipped its way between Zen’s scales and ran the length of his arm. Instead of dripping to the cobblestones, it crept its way slowly to Zen’s chest. Once all the droplets had joined back together, the water glowed bright green before it faded away.

  “That was a weird feeling.” Zen shuddered.

  “They’re judgment fountains. They tell whether or not the person who touches them has a good heart and means well.”

  “Hmm,” Zen considered. “Do I? I mean, I think I do.” He patted his chest.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I’d hate to experience what would happen if I didn’t.”

  “I’ve heard it’s not pretty.”

  “Too bad Kyshta wasn’t here,” Zen stated dreamily.

  Lana laughed louder than she intended. Without warning, a blinding blue flame erupted from the ground in front of them. The flames from the lanterns were sucked into its vortex. Zen scrambled backwards, wings ready to take off and claws poised for attack.

  A woman stepped from the flames. She was old and haggard; wrinkled like the earth and weathered like its canyons. Her eyes were as vivid and full of life as the flames that brought her. In her right hand was a walking staff as crooked as her spine. Her nose was hooked like an eagle’s beak and her hands were as thin as a rat’s paw. She stared silently at them with uneven eyes, her face deformed either at birth or by a terrible accident.

  “Where are the elves?” Zen asked loudly, suspiciously.

  “They fled from this land and impending doom. Watching time’s sand they saw darkness loom,” the hag said roughly. The fire subsided behind her and resorted to dancing lazily around her feet.

  “Where have they gone?” Zen asked.

  “To a land so ancient; over the waters they drone. Through enemy enchant and perils unknown,” she replied.

  “Genetricis?”Zen asked, frustration rising.

  “Beware of the treachery soon in your midst. Keep safe the Septum from sands-a-sift” She held a fist to her heart. “Seek safety in a mountain hold. My secrets of things, of which no one’s told. To find one’s answers speak wisely, well thought. Patience is virtue, annoyance is not.” With a smile and wink the flames erupted around her; a twisting vortex that extended to the rooftops.

  “Wait!” Zen called. “Who are you?”

  The flames parted for a second to reveal a beautiful young woman. Her eyes were blue and her hair was of ebony. The blue flames turned orange and engulfed her with a silent cry. The fire diminished and left nothing behind on the cobblestone that would hint they ever existed.

  The lights returned to the street lanterns. Lana was quiet, shaken from the eerie experience. Zen’s voice made her jump.

  “Is anyone else here?” he shouted, annoyed, but only the crickets had answered by reviving their nightly chorus.

  Zen furrowed his eyebrows. “Hold on, Lana. We’re leaving.” He leapt from the ground and beat his wings hard to gain altitude quickly. He said nothing more to Lana as he circled above the city before flying south towards the Alven Mountains. There was another, smaller elf settlement south of Elventon but Zen was skeptical about finding answers, or elves, there.

  Lana, unnerved, sank in the saddle. She was grateful the elves had gone and to where she didn’t care. She got to stay with Zen. She was happy about that but the vision of the girl burning in the fire disturbed her. She didn’t know if it was real or if that was the real face of the spell caster. She wanted to push it from her mind so she looked sunwake, towards Gour, and admired the moon Tahira.

  She blinked, thinking her eyes were playing tricks. The shadow of a winged creature appeared to be heading toward them.

  “Zen, do you see that?” She asked. “There’s something over the Gour!”

  Zen looked and banked left suddenly. He flapped his wings rapidly three times. The silhouette did, too.

  Zen dove sharply towards the ground and landed.

  “Who is that?” Lana asked.

  “It’s one of the wyverns,” he replied. “I’m not sure which one, though. The rapid wing beats is a general communication to figure out friend or foe.”

  The figure circled down and landed in front of Zen and Lana. Much to their dislike it was Kyshta.

  “You jinxed us,” Lana muttered to Zen.

  “Where’s a fountain when you want one?” Zen asked in reply.

  “You still have that thing, Zen? Elves are right over there.” She pointed her wing to the north. “Go rid yourself of that flea.”

  Zen growled. “You’ve flown all this way to antagonize us? You’re in desperate need of a hobby. Go play with rocks, whelp.”

  Lana held back laughter.

  “No, Zen, I was told to look for you by the Elders. Along with others,” Kyshta scoffed. “They wanted to be sure that you have kept on course and haven’t wandered. It appears to me that you have, which doesn’t surprise me. So I’m here to remind you that you need to take that thing to her kind.” She waved her wing in a shooing motion. “It’s just north of here. Do you need help finding it?” She cocked her head to the side sardonically.

  Zen narrowed his eyes. “The elves have gone, Kyshta. We’ve already been there. So, before you start acting like you know everything maybe you should be smart enough to ask questions before you open your maw and verify what we’ve suspected all along.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyshta barked.

  “It means we think you’re stupid,” Lana blurted, sliding from Zen’s back. She was angry at the constant badgering and tired of doing nothing about it. “Must we spell it out for you? Oh, I guess so. S-T-U…”

  “Shut up,” Kyshta snarled. “Both of you need to listen.

  Lana turned on her heel and walked away, a show of disrespect in many societies.

  “The Elders are annoyed with you, Zen. They said that you had better return tonight, without that parasite of yours, to the safety of the Keep.”

  “What are they going to do? Keep me in Bledsoe again? Having to bring me food? Sounds more like a luxury to me.” Zen looked away from Kyshta.

  “You’re in more trouble than you know.” Kyshta grinned with a sick pleasure. “You’ve got to be the stupidest, ugliest, weakest and most worthless creature on this planet.”

  A large branch crashed down on Kyshta’s head with a loud crack. She yelped in pain and cringed away from the source.

  “Respect your elders, dim-witted chicken,” Lana yelled, dropping the branch.

  “You, rat, will make a nice snack!” Kyshta lunged at Lana.

  Zen reacted instantly, barreling toward her like an angry bull. He was intent on ripping her to shreds. Before he could get his talons on her, a large wyvern dropped from the sky and landed heavily between Lana and Kyshta. Zen skidded to a stop to avoiding running into it.

  It roared disapprovingly, rocked back on her tail and kicked Kyshta in the chest. She sprawled backwards into the dirt. The force of the kick knocked the wind out of her. She lay curled up and gasping for breath. Zen didn’t feel sorry for her and neither did Lana.

  “No daughter of mine will ever harm an elf!”

  Lana walked to Zen’s side. “Wow,” she whispered. Zen nodded with a surprised expression on his face.

  Kyshta looked fearfully at the wyvern that kicked her. “She,” Kyshta gasped. “hit me.”

  “You sound like a hatchli
ng!” the wyvern spat.

  “I did. I hit her on the head with that branch, Mrs. Wyvern,” Lana admitted. “And I’m not sorry. She is rude, conceited and nobody likes her. She was being rude to an elder. Where I come from, we get rapped on the head for such behaviors. She was overdue for punishment.”

  “Yes, Ms. Lana, there are consequences in our kingdom as well,” she growled. “And they’re consequences that her father won’t be able to get her out of this time.”

  Kyshta sank lower. “Mother, I…”

  “Quiet! You ashamed me tonight, as well as many times prior. No amount of sniveling and begging will reward you a lean punishment! You better not dare to move.” The wyvern growled deeply at Kyshta and then turned to face Lana, completely changing her tone.

  “Miss Lana, we haven’t formally met,” she said politely. “My name is Sashona.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Lana said.

  “Likewise,” Sashona smiled. “I was fond of your mother. My condolences for what happened. If you ask me, those things need to be annihilated.” She then addressed Zen. “We’ve been looking for you two. The Elders were worried that you hadn’t made it safely to Elventon.”

  “We stayed at Meridsani,” Zen said. “Barator is a most excellent host and we couldn’t resist his hospitality.”

  “The humans of Meridsani are faring well?”

  “Yes,” Zen said. “They had some wounded but none died in the Warisai attack.”

  “Warisai? They attacked Meridsani? Are you certain?” Sashona gasped.

  “Very. We fought against them. Hopefully they won’t return.”

  “Why are they going through such great lengths to invade Ancienta?” She asked.

  “It has something to do with me,” Lana said.

  “What makes you so important?” Kyshta jeered.

  "Hold your tongue!" Sashona growled and lashed her tail at her, landing a direct blow upside her head. Kyshta cowered.

  “Why do you say that, Lana,” Sashona asked.

  “The Warisai, when I had to fight them in Meridsani, said they wanted me alive and not to harm me. At Arbortown, they kept me alive. At the time I thought nothing of it. Now, though, I’m beginning to assume they want me for something.”

  “Unlikely, except to keep you until reaching their leader and giving you to him as a fresh meal,” Sashona replied.

  “They wouldn’t have pursued me to great distance and through perilous desert and battle just to keep me as fresh meat.”

  “Any creature that kills in mass quantities like the Warisai risk making Dagan imbalanced. They take and never give, destroy and never rebirth.”

  “Yes,” Lana agreed. “That’s one reason why they need to be stopped. They’ve already conquered most of Genetricis and Ancient is next. I don’t want this land to die as the other continent has. Everyone, everything must stand together and confront our extinction like the Genetrician races should have. I am the last of the Arbor elves. The only family I have now is Zen. My northern brethren left this land knowing of the doom to come.”

  Zen’s eyes fixed softly on Lana. The evening he rescued her from Arbortown, he never thought about the impact the little elf would make on his heart. Her words touched his soul. He loved her as if she was a piece of him.

  Being adopted, he understood why she had said he was her only family. Firth, his adoptive father, was his only family. He never had any siblings but, if he did, he would equate his feelings for them much in the same way he felt of Lana.

  “You have more wisdom than most wyverns, young elf,” Sashona said with a kind smile. “It’s too bad you couldn’t bestow it into others.”

  “Why can I not?” Lana asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nobody said I wasn’t allowed to try to influence others,” Lana said.

  “In what manner?” Sashona asked, tilting a curious eye in her direction.

  “Fighting them is the only way to get rid of them before they get too established on Ancienta. We should rally armies and stand our ground. We did in Meridsani and won, destroying one of their armies in the process.”

  Lana looked matter-of-fact which worried Zen. She couldn’t possibly be serious, could she?

  “Little ones always have such enthusiasm,” Sashona stated. “When you succeed in raising your armies, be sure to let us wyverns know. I’m sure I can convince at least a handful to adhere to your forces, me being one of them.”

  Kyshta dumbfounded, looked at her mother. “Mother, you want to fight? Why?”

  “Kyshta, when shall you notice the important things in life?” her mother said palpably, without looking at her.

  Kyshta looked from her mother to Lana, lacking an aggressive expression even when she looked at Zen. It was an expression of someone who had just been slapped across the face; slack jawed and shocked.

  “I wish you the best of luck, little elf. May Magnen protect you,” Sashona said. “I was instructed to take you back if I were to find you, Zen. Instead, I will return without you and inform the Elders that you are busy with more important things.”

  “The majority of Elders are against any skirmish with the Warisai. It might be impossible for you to rally their support or any support from wyverns in the Keep,” Zen said.

  “I’ll do my best,” Sashona replied. “And in the case I cannot get any wyvern to assist, I shall come alone. I knew there was something special about you two when I saw you walk into the atrium. I support the fight against those beasts.” She bowed her head. “Farewell, and may the winds ever fill your wings.” Then she turned to address Kyshta. “Come. We’re going home. Straight to the Keep, now!”

  Kyshta, after a neutral departing glance at Zen and Lana, followed her mother into the night sky.

  “So,” Zen began crooned. “You want to build an army?”

  “Why not?” Lana said. “What other options are there?”

  “There are none,” Zen answered. “The problem is that Ancienta has been at peace for so long that it’ll be hard to convince those who aren’t directly affected.”

  “Attempting anything doesn’t hurt,” Lana replied.

  “Unless it’s your first flying lesson off a cliff,” Zen muttered.

  “I’m assuming that’s a direct experience.” She turned to face him.

  “Basically,” Zen said, shrugging. “It didn’t go well.”

  Lana patted his neck and took a last glance at the wyverns. “Thankfully, you learned.”

  Zen chuckled a little. “Took awhile, but I did.”

  The crickets chirped slowly from beneath shrubs, giving them time to think. Zen considered options. War and death were a huge commitment and sacrifice. The only thing he thought he was committed to was his schooling. Although others could disagree with that since he always disrupted the class by asking questions and debating different factors of their lessons.

  Lana on the other hand wanted the Warisai eradicated. She wanted them to taste her Retribution. Fighting them in Meridsani made her realize that killing them was the only way to survive.

  “This could get interesting,” Zen said with a smirk.

  Lana climbed into the saddle and they were once more airborne and winging their way sunrest.

  CHAPTER 16

  ADRIFT

  He looked out to sea. Its vastness still astounded him after hundreds of years setting his gaze upon it. The moon’s light danced and rippled along its surface, caressing it like a lost lover as each wave rolled shoreward. He twitched his tail as a wave lapped heavily at the beach below him. He was fond of the sea and all its grandeur but staring at it was not bringing him any new ideas.

  The hardened tip of his tail clunked heavily upon the rock where he was perched over the beach. With each landing of a wave, his tail mimicked the motion. His mind was clouded with apprehensiveness which obscured his decision making. He sat and waited for it to subside.

  The idea of warmongering seemed like a good idea but in the time it took him to reach the secl
uded cove, his doubts grew. Defending a land mass the size of Ancienta could be daunting if they were not well organized. Since Ancienta hasn’t known conflict since the Fae War, it would be difficult to find anyone qualified and willing to handle such logistics. Who would do it? Would Barator lead the charge if he were to ask him? They had been well mobilized which gave Zen the impression they anticipated an attack, perhaps after hearing about the southern villages, Arbortown most recently.

  The repetitive pounding of Zen’s tail was beginning to bother Lana. For the past hour or so, all Zen had done was sit atop the rock and smack his tail against it. She wasn’t in any hurry to go anywhere and would have been thoroughly enjoying herself if Zen wasn’t so deep in thought. Anxious for a break from the rhythmical pounding, she arose from her seat between two rocks and strolled down the beach.

  She walked south along the private shore. It was accessible only by air and sea due to the tall, steep cliffs that bordered it; the remnants of a collapsed volcanic caldera. The sand upon her bare feet felt soft and inviting. She relaxed and let it filter between her toes. Littered among the sand were many seashells of several sizes, shapes and colors that contrasted against the black sand. She picked them up, turned them over and admired each one.

  The roar of the waves coming ashore beside her was succeeding in drowning the noise of Zen’s tail. She could now truly enjoy the magnificence of the ocean, something she had never done before.

  The sand beneath her feet was gradually mingled with small pebbles the further south she went. She decided to walk the full length of the beach and then return to Zen. Perhaps by then he wouldn’t be so deep in thought.

  A larger than expected wave left Lana’s braun hide pants soaked from the knee down. The surf appeared to get rougher the further down she walked. With the rougher surf she found larger stones, the size of her palm. At the base of the cliff were boulders that had crumbled from the cliff and had been pounded smooth by the waves. She walked as close to those rocks as she could. When she had the opportunity to climb them, she did and walked along their tops.