Rise of the Flame

  Rowe scrunched his face up as he tried to make sense of what Liam was saying. “What?”

  Liam nodded, looking off into the distance, remembering her beautiful face. He shook his head, wiping her face from his mind. He felt guilty thinking of her, yearning for her. “Yes, in a dream. I saw her and she was as real as you sitting on that horse beside me.”

  Rowe stared at Liam for what felt like an eternity. Liam found himself wishing that he could read the thoughts of others, like his mother.

  Then, he shrugged. “Wow, she must have been something to have you still thinking about her. I don’t know of any girl that kept your attention, not until Sona.”

  Liam smiled. “She was like nothing I’ve ever seen. The most beautiful face. Fire red hair. Green eyes.”

  “Oh,” Rowe said with realization. He nodded. “I see. This dream girl of yours is completely different from Tryan woman with their black hair and blue eyes. Tryan women are all the same, never a variation. You want something different that’s all. Maybe… you made her up. She’s as far from a Tryan woman as you can get. To think, red hair? Sounds like a fairy.”

  Liam shook her head. “I don’t think that’s it. I can’t explain how it happened, but I feel that I must see her again.” He sighed. “It kills me to admit it, when I have a great girl like Sona at my side. A girl who really loves me, and I’ve committed myself to.”

  Rowe nodded and watched Liam’s face.

  “If it’s meant to be, you will see her again.”

  Liam hoped so. He lowered his head. He looked back at Sona as she rode behind. She met his eyes and it was almost as if she knew. It was as if she could see into his very soul. He swallowed hard. Liam felt horrible. What is happening?

  Liam looked back at Sona now, as she rode in front of the other men. He noticed her gaze leave him. She looked past him.

  “Liam!” Rowe shouted, breaking him from his thoughts.

  Liam turned around and his face blanched. He felt a knot in his throat as they grew closer to the gates.

  Raeden lay in ruins.

  Chapter 15

  The child shivered and shook. Her knees were drawn into her chest as she held them close.

  Her eyes were red and vacant. There was a long gash across her cheek as though someone had meticulously sliced her little face. She sat beside the corpse of a small boy. Liam felt bile rise in his throat at he looked at the boys crushed skull. Pieces of his brain spilled out onto the cobblestone.

  Liam cautiously reached out to her and she flinched. He withdrew his hand and she scrambled to her feet. She gathered her tattered skirts and ran down the dark alley between the tall stone buildings.

  He looked to Rowe and Sona. Their eyes followed the girl until she disappeared around a corner between the tall stone buildings. Ashes and embers fell from the sky, landing on their heads and shoulders like snow.

  “What happened here?” Nani asked as she flew to them. She landed beside him, standing nearly as tall as his waist.

  Sona cracked her knuckles and looked to Liam. “This is quite a welcome. What now?”

  Liam swallowed hard as he turned to look around him. Everyone watched him, waiting for direction, waiting for orders. The smell of burnt flesh and hair filled the air. Blood pooled in the streets. It coursed through the grooves of the cobblestone that paved the roads and alleys.

  He had seen too much death in his young life, but he had never seen so many of his own people so brutally killed. Liam couldn’t fathom how the Shadow Elves could destroy Raeden like this. That nagging feeling flooded over him again.

  The sky was darkened by storm clouds, and Liam closed his eyes. A cool wind softly wrapped around him as he called the rain.

  Light rain began to fall, extinguishing the wild flames that ate away at the ancient structures. Steam began to rise from the paved roadways in the center of the intersection of houses and shops. Bodies were ripped apart, littering the streets, and the rain cleansed them of blood and ash.

  Nani took his hand gently. She wrapped her small hands around his.

  “You know,” she began quietly. Nani looked up at his face as he concentrated on the rain. She could see the tension in his face. “It's not your fault.”

  Liam opened his eyes and looked down at her. He didn’t know what to say. He was supposed to protect his people. This was what he was chosen to do.

  “Well, Liam,” Sona swung herself onto her horse. “You’d better get what we came for.”

  Liam looked up at her and nodded. “The Talisman of Alden.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was to meet with the Alden clan and be their guest. They were supposed to give him the Talisman and teach him how to use it. Now, he feared that they were dead along with their people.

  “What’s that, Liam?” Nani looked to Liam.

  “Our realm’s divine weapon. It had once been the only thing that could protect the Tryans and fairies if there was a threat. It was used in the Realm Wars. The Alden family of Raeden has kept it safe and hidden all of this time.”

  It was a secret that only the ruling classes of Kyril knew about. He ran to Midnight. He mounted the horse and began to ride towards the palace.

  He needed something to take his mind off of the destruction all around them. Midnight maneuvered over rubble and jumped over fallen carts. Liam looked over his shoulder and shouted orders to those that rode closely behind them.

  “Look for any survivors. Gather them and meet me by the south gate entrance.”

  Rowe and the soldiers nodded and split into four directions at the intersection. As Liam rode Midnight through the wide streets, jumping over bodies, he prayed that the Shadow Elves didn't know Tryan lore. He couldn't imagine what the Shadow Elves would do if they had that talisman.

  Wexcyn already had enough of an advantage. He was an Ancient. Liam still couldn’t figure out how they would ever defeat him, let alone Inora and their armies.

  The rain continued to fall as he rode through the city. It pained him to see the bodies of children strewn about in the streets, hanging lifeless out of doorways and crumpled on the stairs.

  The brass gates of the palace were bent and torn down. Tryan soldiers were impaled on the sharp ends of the main gate. He slowed Midnight down as they passed through the broken gates and into the courtyard.

  At the center of the courtyard stood the bottom of the staircase that led up to the floating palace. It was all that grounded the palace to Raeden’s soil. Even in the midst of destruction and death, the palace was radiant.

  The silence was unnerving. He had been to this palace many times throughout his life and it had always been bustling and full of life and joy. As a child he would look forward to seeing the large water fountain in the palace courtyard.

  Mermaid statues crisscrossed in the center of the fountain, sprouting green water. They were enchanted statues that moved across each other as if in an entrancing dance. Those waters ran red now, with the blood of the bodies that were impaled and drowned in it.

  Raeden was now a ghost town.

  He climbed off of Midnight and patted him on the head. The horse bowed and Liam hugged him. “I'll be right back.”

  Midnight nodded, nuzzling Liam. Liam held his neck for a long while, fearing what he would see inside that palace.

  Liam sucked in a deep breath and drew his sword. He ran up the stairs two at a time for what seemed to take hours. He avoided fallen bodies and abandoned weapons as he neared the top. The wind grew colder as he ascended and when he looked down, Midnight seemed much smaller.

  The doors were smashed in and lay in splinters. It had been barricaded, but now that barricade was crushed. Liam wondered how the Shadow Elves had managed such a thing. The hairs on his flesh began to rise as he feared that maybe Wexcyn himself had done this. Just the thought that Wexcyn was inside made Liam take pause.

  Then, he imagined ending the war right then, finding him inside, and killing him. He pictured Wexcyn sitting on the throne, tall as a giant, and bronz
e like a statue, just waiting for Liam to walk in. They would fight and Liam would call the lightning to strike him down. But, he knew, it was not possible. Wexcyn would not be seen walking around in their world. He was much cleverer than that.

  Liam entered the palace. His eyes darted to each direction and yet there was nothing waiting for him but silence. He saw the piles of dead soldiers. They were fresh. Dread washed over him and he stepped into the shadows.

  How could an army destroy an entire kingdom and escape so quickly without a trace, he wondered to himself, as he peered from behind a wall. He heard nothing, not even a tiny breath. Wyverns, he figured. He had studied the creatures. An army could do just that in a matter of hours.

  The fallen soldiers’ weapons were scattered across the polished floor. The tapestries and statues were overturned. Broken pieces of glass littered every inch of the foyer.

  Liam slowly walked the grand entrance that led to the double stairwell. He ran towards the lower staircase. He looked down the deep descent. He heard nothing but a low hum coming from below. Liam wasn't sure where the talisman would be hidden.

  Where would I hide such a thing, he asked himself. The vaults?

  The Alden family had one of the most extensive libraries in their vaults, where the history of the races was stored. It had to be down there. At the bottom of the stairs, Liam slid on some water. He fell hard onto the ground.

  Not water. Liam could tell by the smell. It was blood. He glanced at a servant whose eyes looked up at him blankly. With the life drained from him, his skin had become a pale blue. His Tryan glow had faded.

  Liam climbed to his feet and used the glow of his sword to lead the way. There were few sconces still lit inside the dark corridor and he used caution to step over the dead servant. Liam's attention snapped to the far end of the long corridor when he heard a vase crash. He stood completely still, listening and seeking the source of the noise.

  His ears perked when he heard shallow breathing. Liam let the glow of his sword fade and slowly crept to the intersecting hall. The breathing he heard grew closer.

  Liam turned the corner and nearly sliced a young servant boy in the face. The boy’s large blue eyes looked up at Liam in utter horror. His pale face flushed. His palace uniform was stained with blood and he had a gushing wound on the side of his head. His hair was matted to his head with the blood.

  Liam lowered his sword and caught the boy as he began to fall.

  “It's ok. It's ok,” Liam said. “I'm not here to harm you!”

  He held the boy, who couldn't have been more than ten years old. He untucked his shirt and ripped the cloth. He tied the scrap around the boys head to stop the bleeding.

  “Who are you? Is anyone else alive?”

  The boy was weak yet stared at Liam with suspicion.

  “I don’t know you.”

  Liam rolled up his sleeve and pulled his shirt back to show his royal mark. The crescent moon glowed against his skin. He looked back at the boy.

  “I am prince Liam of Oren.”

  The boy’s eyes widened as he looked at the symbol. He sighed with relief. “I'm the prince's valet, Jorge. I was checking to see if the Shadow Elves had gone. There were thousands Prince Liam. Thousands.”

  Liam shook his head. It was what he had expected. There was an even larger army in Kyril and they were a step ahead of him. “Where is the prince?”

  Liam slowly stood to his full height. He couldn't imagine so many running through the kingdom. The Shadow Elves must have filled the streets. No wonder the Tryans were massacred, they were outnumbered. He wondered what unfortunate kingdom was next.

  “I protected the prince. He is alive.”

  “Show me where the prince is.” He helped the boy to his feet. He gave Jorge an arm for balance as they walked as quickly as the boy could manage.

  Jorge grabbed a torch from its place on the wall and walked ahead. Liam knew that they were getting further and further to the bottom of the palace, where the floor looked down onto the sea. It was beautiful when they reached the glass plated foundation. The sea was calm and clear, but Jorge walked past without looking.

  “What of the rest of the royal family?”

  “All dead.” Jorge said, lowering his eyes. He coughed into his shoulder. “They tried to fight, but there were too many Shadow Elves. They swarmed the castle like flies.” He glanced back at Liam. Jorge’s face was troubled as he thought about everything he had seen that day. “I saved the prince. He is my friend.”

  “Thank you for saving the prince.” Liam smiled down at him.

  Two survivors of the palace, and they were young boys. The other two princes of Raeden had been Liam’s age. They must have tried their best to protect their people.

  He knew they were excellent warriors and felt such dread that they had been so unfairly matched. Nonetheless, they had died fighting, with their honor intact and that was something the Tryan’s valued.

  “You were brave to save the prince.”

  Jorge shrugged. “He would have done the same for me.” They entered the musty cellar and he handed Liam the torch.

  There were hundreds of barrels of wine and barrels of ale. The floor was stone, unlike the rest of the palace bottom. The entire room was made of stone and felt damp. It smelled just like the sea in there. Jorge went to the back wall which looked like any other wall. He pushed the wall with all of his strength, revealing a secret door.

  “Is that you, Jorge,” a little voice whispered.

  Once the door slid open Liam saw the young prince. He was still in his silk pajamas. His shoulder length hair was wild and tousled all around his head. He shivered when his eyes met Liam's. He hand reached for a small sword. It glowed green with his touch.

  The young prince crawled to his feet, standing about five feet tall. He pulled Jorge into the room, pushing him behind so that he could stand ahead with the sword. He shook as he held the sword out towards Liam. “Don't come near us, or I will kill you.” His eyes looked worried. “Please, don’t make me kill you.”

  Even though Wilem put on a brave face, Liam could tell that he was still shaken up from all that he had witnessed that day. “I'm here to help you prince Wilem.”

  Wilem didn't lower his sword. His eyes narrowed. “Lies.”

  “I'm prince Liam of Oren. I am your ally.”

  “He's telling the truth Wilem,” Jorge whispered into Wilem's ear.

  Wilem nodded, but didn't take his eyes from Liam. “Show me the mark.”

  “Don't be afraid,” Liam said, revealing the royal mark once again. “I will lead you both to safety.”

  Wilem reached out a cautious hand to touch it. “A crescent moon with two swords,” Wilem said. He showed his. “Mine’s a dragon, with black wings.”

  Liam smiled. “Good to see you are who you say as well.”

  Wilem straightened his shoulders, tilting his head up. “I am not afraid.”

  Liam nodded with a smile. “I know. You're a brave boy,” he said softly. “Now let's get out of here.”

  “Wait,” Wilem said. He lowered his sword and stepped out of the secret room. “The talisman. I can't leave it here.”

  “You know about it? So it is actually in the castle?”

  Wilem nodded. “Of course I know about it. I may be third in line for the throne but I am as important as the rest.”

  “Show me,” Liam said, moving aside. Wilem eyed Liam as he walked around him.

  Wilem and Jorge ran off and Liam followed closely behind. Out of the darkness of the lower halls and to the brightness of the grand staircase they ran.

  Sunlight spilled from the large skylight as they crossed from one side of the palace to the west. Inside the grand dining hall there was nothing.

  Everything was calm.

  There were no dead bodies, everything looked to be intact, and it was silent.

  Liam raised a perplexed brow when he watched Wilem crawl beneath the table.

  “Help me with this!” Wilem started tu
gging on the heavy wool carpet. Liam hurried over and helped him pull it from underneath the massive, stone table. They folded the carpet over and Wilem knocked on the floor. There was a clicking sound.

  Wilem smiled with relief. “It's still here!” He reached for a silver spoon from the table’s place setting and bent it. His thumb rubbed the metal until it began to glow. His eyes began to glow as well as he shaped the spoon into a key.

  “You're good at that,” Liam said. “Creation is a rare skill. You are lucky to have it.”

  Wilem looked up at him, his eyes returning to blue. Even for a child, Liam could tell that he was wise beyond his years. Those small eyes were serious.

  “Father taught me. I was the only one born with Creation. My brothers both had Stealth.” Wilem paused. His eyes clouded with tears and he fell onto his bottom, dropping the key he had just made. He began to sob, his shoulders shook and he covered his face with his hands.

  Liam knelt down to hug him only to be pushed away.

  “I'm fine,” Wilem said. Wilem sniffled and wiped his eyes. He rubbed his wet nose with his silk sleeve and grabbed the key from the floor. Still, his breathing was uneven as he fought to hold back his tears.

  Liam watched him with sadness. His eyes snapped to the lock when it clicked once and spat out the key. Wilem touched the door and it creaked open.

  Inside the hidden compartment in the floor was a box. It had brass claws molded into its lid as though they held it closed. Wilem pulled the small box out and with a swishing sound a knife was thrown into the side of it. Attached to the knife was a glowing strand.

  Wilem gasped and scrambled beneath the table.

  Liam stood with his sword glowing and ready. A Shadow Elf pulled on the glowing strand and the box was ripped from Wilem's grasp. Liam hoped over the table, sliding to the other side. His slammed his sword down onto the strand as the Shadow Elf tried to pull it towards him. It split in two and Liam caught the box from the air.