Born In Flames

  “Yes, sir. I’m Fenn and this is Aurora, and we don’t think reading is overrated,” Fenn replied, shaking his hand a little too enthusiastically. He was a sucker for old people. “In fact, Rory here reads as often as the sun rises.”

  Bob climbed down the ladder and handed a couple of books to Fenn with a thump. “Well, I understand that you two want to learn the mythological history of dragons.” He kept talking as he walked to the back of the room, leaving us to sum up that he wanted us to follow him. Fenn walked quickly ahead, reaching his arm back so I could grab hold of his hand.

  “He seems nice,” I whispered to Fenn.

  “Yeah, I think he is. I really liked him over the phone.” He pulled me to walk in front of him and put his hand on the small of my back. The smarter part of me knew that I should keep him from doing that because it only made things more complicated. But my heart wasn’t quite strong enough to make him stop.

  We walked through a door that was in the very back of the main room and entered what I guessed was a parlor of sorts, striped in green and white. A few different couches and chairs created a pleasant atmosphere to kick back and read in. I could see myself coming here and relaxing quite often.

  “Well,” said Bob pausing for the first time and tipping his glasses down on his nose to get a better view of us, “take a seat. I’ve pulled a couple books for reference, in case I find myself missing a piece. This isn’t a popular subject around here, but it’s one that I myself have put a lot of research into. I’ve always held a keen fascination for all things fantasy.”

  Come on Eve, please be right, I thought with a glint of hope.

  Fenn laid the books Bob had handed him on the table where we sat. Bob sat down in a loveseat in front of us, crossed his legs, and then took a deep breath.

  “Where to begin,” he said, tapping his finger to his chin. He looked up. “The beginning would be best, I suppose. I tried to stay local with the lore-keep things interesting. Did you know that we actually have lore on this island concerning dragons?”

  We shook our heads as he changed his glasses, pulling a reading pair out of the pocket on his sweater vest. He had a Star Trek communicator pin fastened to the pocket. I tried to refrain from giggling. Bob grabbed one of the books off the coffee table that sat in between us.

  He cleared his throat. “Now, are you two aware of the ruins on the Eastern side of the island?”

  “Somewhat,” Fenn answered for both of us.

  “Those ruins were actually once a place of worship, back before the settlers came. The Shaman who led the founding tribe passed down stories about another realm of time.” He smiled blissfully.

  I leaned forward, biting my lip to hide my smile. If he only knew.

  “The Shaman held awakenings in a cave not too far from the ruins. It was a religious practice performed the night before the tribes would harvest their crops. Legend has it that one night, while the Shaman held an awakening inside the cave, he witnessed a phenomenon.” He shifted in his seat, excitement gushing from his words. “An unusual man appeared from out of thin air, right inside the cave.”

  I blinked. “A man?”

  “The Shaman wrote that this man spoke of a realm full of magic and hope.”

  “What happened?” Fenn asked Bob.

  Bob smiled. “The Shaman took this man into his tribe and offered him shelter. In return, the man shared his insight. He claimed to be a god from the other realm.”

  “A god?” I blurted out.

  Bob chuckled. “You see, the man claimed that in his realm he had four other brothers. They were known as The Fates. This man-the fifth brother-broke a law. He created a new race, dragons, without the consent of his brothers.”

  Fenn stiffened, slowly sliding his hand in mine. Eve had talked about The Fates. I squeezed Fenn’s hand.

  “And the Shaman believed all of this?” I asked, dazed.

  “It is written here, in this journal,” he informed, tilting the journal in my direction. “It was deciphered by our college as a part of our island’s history. The Shaman wrote that this man was someone he could trust”

  “If he was trustworthy, then why would he leave his realm after breaking a law?” Fenn asked, confused.

  “Because the other four Fates didn’t approve of the creation of the dragon. They looked at it as an abomination. And since they had no punishments set for this unimaginable crime, they attempted to terminate the entire race.”

  I gasped, covering my mouth.

  “But the fifth brother knew something the others didn’t,” Bob continued, deep into his story. “He saw something coming-a grim future. He told the Shaman that he believed one day, a spawn from his creation would save our two realms from the destruction he foresaw in a vision. A savior.”

  Bob’s words drifted away as I stared absently out of the window, my mind spinning. I felt shaky and a little nauseous as my thoughts touched on Mr. Creepy’s prophecy. Of dragon born a conqueror prevails. Am I the savior-the conqueror?

  Fenn coughed, nudging me.

  “…this was why the man, as you inquired Fenn, fled his realm,” Bob kept on. “He told the Shaman it was to ensure that the savior would be created. If he stayed, his brothers would’ve eliminated the race of the dragon. To prevent this, as penance for his crime, he put his immortality into a special stone and laid it deep inside a volcano. He left it there, in the other realm, and asked the Dragon King to protect it. He then crossed over here and lived out his days as a mortal.”

  My heart accelerated. I understood why I needed to visit this historian now. He might not know who he was talking to, but he certainly knew a lot.

  “What did the brothers do after that? Did they destroy the dragons?” Fenn asked, taking the words from my mouth.

  Bob’s brows lifted as he shrugged in uncertainty. “No one knows. Alas, the journal is incomplete. It ends shortly after the man died and the Shaman disappeared.” He looked up from the book with a sad smile and then closed it, placing his palm lovingly on the cover.

  “What did the Natives do after that? After the Shaman left?” I asked, thirsting for more.

  “They created an altar inside the ruins, worshipping the Fate who sacrificed his immortality for the fate of our two realms.”

  Zordon’s face came to mind then. I briefly remembered Lady Eve mentioning something about a stone that Zordon was after. My mind buzzed with information. Was the stone the Fate poured his soul into the same stone Zordon was after?

  “I was told that you have an ancient map that you’d like me to look at?” Bob asked. I stared at him for a moment, trying to make out what he had just said.

  “Show him the map, Rory,” Fenn muttered under his breath.

  “Oh! The map, here,” I rushed as I pulled it out of my bag and unfolded it, laying it down on the table for Bob to see.

  “Ahh, this is quite old,” he commented, tilting his glasses down and leaning in. He compared it to the pages of the leather book, brows furrowing as he tried to make out the picture. “It’s a hand-drawn layout of our island, similar to this one,” he explained, pointing to a map in the journal.

  He leaned down until he was almost nose to nose with the map, then said, “Actually, your map looks like a treasure map. There are focal points on here, but the hand that drew it was unsteady, it’s hard to tell. There is however, a heavy emphasis on the ruins. You see how it takes up more space than needed on the map? Maybe something is there. Who gave this to you?”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer. I wasn’t sure how much I should give away. I shrugged.

  “Hmm,” he pondered. “Well, I can’t really help you in this department. My knowledge only goes as far as what I’ve shared. If this were mine though, I would definitely investigate the ruins. There is an island tour, the group travels to the altar and the cave. You never know what you may find.” His gaze filled with yearning as he looked down at the map.

  I snatched up the map and put it back in my bag. “So other than recognizing the
ruins, it’s unreadable?” I pointed out, trying to deter him from wanting the map.

  “Precisely,” Bob replied, disheartened. I leaned in again to glance at his map that was drawn up by the Shaman and was caught off guard by his excitement. “Is that a Lapis?” he asked, grabbing my hand and holding up my middle finger. The ring had obviously sparked his curiosity.

  “Lapis? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to gently pull my hand back, but he brought it closer to him. From his pocket, he pulled out a small magnifying glass, similar to one that a jeweler would use. Who carried those things around?

  “It’s a type of stone. That ring you have on,” he gestured with his eyes, “it is set with a Lapis. In jewelry form, it was said to hold great power. The odd thing is, the altar I told you about, the one they built to worship the Fates sacrifice, is made entirely of this stone. It was the only thing left undamaged after the settlers came. Hang on a second.” He practically jumped out of his chair and headed back into the main room.

  As the soft pad of his loafers drifted away, Fenn poked me in the side with his elbow. “I bet this ring has something to do with the temple. This has to be the clue that Eve wanted us to hear. Must be where a key is.”

  I was thinking the same thing. I slid the ring off and laid it on the table in front of us.

  “That’s great…if I decide to continue,” I reminded. “This whole map thing is bumming me out.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked up to Bob who had jogged back into the room. He had yet another book in his hands—so resourceful.

  “See here,” he said, flipping the book open to a creased page and guiding our eyes with his finger. “This is a modern-day picture of the altar.” He pointed and gave us a moment to take it in. It looked like a really big block of dark blue stone that the native people carved intricate pictures into.

  Like the pyramids in Egypt, it was perfectly cut. And like the pyramids of Egypt, I couldn’t begin to imagine how it was built without technology.

  Pictures were chiseled all around the foursided stone. On the right side was what looked like a large dragon standing before humans bent over in worship. It seemed to be harmonious.

  “What do the pictures represent?” I whispered, curious to know more and even more curious as to why I was whispering.

  “There are a few different interpretations, but for dragon lovers like us, I’ll tell you what I believe.” I could feel his excitement building once again as both his hands came out to sway to the sound of his voice. He liked to use his hands while telling stories, a trait I found intriguing.

  “I believe this carving represents the savior. I believe the Natives carved this image as a reminder of the vision the man spoke of to the Shaman-a reminder to pray for the realms salvation.”

  Now this was something I could work with. Maybe there’s a key inside this altar. My blood began to rush.

  He flipped the page over. More carvings appeared. A human stood in the center with what looked like a stone in his hand. “I believe this is the stone the Fate poured his soul into. Many will covet, but one will attain this stone. An evil that will threaten the safety of our realms. The Shaman wrote that the savior would be the only one to prevent this from happening.”

  I knew it. It was all coming together.

  “Hmm…something I haven’t noticed before. Look here,” he said, pointing to the left of the human with stone. “A piece of the altar is missing.” It wasn’t a large enough gap to be distinct, but he was right. It looked like someone had chipped it out.

  “Maybe it is just coincidence that the altar was chipped. I mean, it is after all, a ruin. Damage does occur,” Bob noted, “but you know what would be intriguing?” he said as he scooted forward. A strange looked crossed his face, like he wasn’t sure if he should continue or not.

  “What?” I coaxed.

  “Well, I was just thinking, it’d be marvelous if the stone in your ring was created from the piece of stone that was chipped. I doubt it though, you can buy Lapis anywhere,” he finished, brushing aside the thought.

  But it was just what I needed to hear.

  “Anyway,” he said shaking the thought, “that’s that as far as the history goes.” He shut the book and sat back in his chair, staring off into the distance. I glanced back down at the ring on the table, respecting it more than I had before.

  This was a good idea, I thought as I gave Fenn a reassuring smile. I knew where I needed to go to find at least one of the keys. Thank you, Eve, wherever you are.

  “I just received this yesterday, if you can believe it. To make things even more interesting, I have no real inkling as to who gave it to me,” I admitted.

  “That is interesting indeed. Are you going to look into it?” he asked, distracted.

  “You know, that’s part of why we’re here today, to help me decide. What would you do?”

  “That’s a silly question. I’m a historian, Aurora. What do you think I would do?” My cheeks went red as his smile grew.

  But of course, I thought with a laugh.

  Fenn slid forward and stretched his arm out, swiping the ring from off the table and sliding it onto his middle finger. It fit him perfectly. He sat there for a moment as stiff as wood before he moved again. Something was off. I don’t know how I knew, but something in me stirred at his stillness.

  “Do you think this ring really came from that altar?” he asked with an odd look on his face. His hand was still outstretched, eyes darting between the ring and Bob.

  “It was just a theory. It’s hard to say though. I’d like to think that the Natives would have left something for the savior to find. Something that would help them in their journey,” Bob answered, completely unaware of Fenn’s strange reaction.

  Maybe something like a key to return home. Maybe this ring is one of the keys. I instinctually reached out to Fenn, placing my hand on his arm in hopes that I would magically know what was going on. He flinched at my touch, moving just enough to knock my hand off.

  “Is it supposed to give a tingling, buzzing feeling?” He looked over at me with a glaze to his eyes. “Rory, when you put this on, did you feel funny, like your head was dizzy?” I shook my head no, alerted by the alarm in his tone.

  “What do you mean? It’s only a ring,” Bob said curiously.

  “Yeah, you're right, I…I’m just being silly. Where are your restrooms?” he asked as he jumped up. He paused long enough for Bob’s quick directions before hurrying away. I wanted to follow him, to make sure he was okay, but Bob turned back to me, interrupting my departure by asking if I wanted to see his personal gem collection.

  “Sure,” I managed politely, trying to hide my nervousness. I kept glancing to the doorway, waiting for Fenn to come back, but he didn’t. That worried me.

  Chapter 17

  The Fight

  FIFTEEN MINUTES HAD PASSED WITH no sign of Fenn. I politely excused myself from Bob and his extensive collection of stones and went looking for him.

  It was eerily quiet inside the main room as I walked through the maze of dimly lit bookshelves. I wasn’t too sure where he had gone so I checked each aisle of books, just to be sure. I found dust mites and pages of history, but no Fenn. I headed to the back where the restrooms were and called out his name.

  “Fenn?” I asked as quietly as possible. No need to stir up Bob.

  Nothing.

  “Hello?” and then I heard a moan. I grabbed the antique handle to the men’s bathroom and turned it as quickly as possible, hoping that it wasn’t locked. It creaked open but then stopped midway, as if something was blocking it. I pushed a little harder, opening it enough to peek my head in. There he was, in a heap on the black and white tiled floor.

  “Oh my gosh. Fenn, are you okay?” I asked, easing him out of the way so I could fully open the door. Concern burned through my belly. I had never seen him like this before. He looked completely dazed and disoriented.

  “Aurora?” he muttered, trying to move to a sitting position. I ste
pped forward into a puddle of water rippling beneath my foot.

  “Yeah, Fenn, it’s me. Should I get help?” I crouched down, helping him up and grabbed his face so I could see his eyes. He groggily blinked a few times, trying to focus on my face. After a brief moment of swaying, he steadied, his gaze intently boring into mine. I let him grab onto me to help him stand. I had never realized how heavy he was before. Or maybe I was just weak.

  “I’m okay. Just got dizzy is all.” He smiled weakly and splashed cold water on his face. I hadn’t even noticed the running water that was overflowing onto the floor like a waterfall. I placed my hand on his back, running my fingers soothingly along his spine.

  “What happened to you, really?” He wiped his face with a paper towel and shrugged his shoulders, shutting off the water.

  “Don’t know. But if I remember, I’ll tell you all about it.” A frail smile came from him and he stepped for the door slightly off balance. “Let’s go home, okay?” I nodded and helped him walk to the front door.

  Luckily Bob was already there so we could make for an easy exit. “Hey there, oh, you look sick.”

  Fenn stood on his own, seeming to regain most of his strength and balance. A strange look of recognition crossed his face as he stared straight ahead. I nudged him in his side, hoping to bring him back to reality. He looked at me, his eyes full of sorrow. He was somewhere else, seeing something else. I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. Then he shook his head, replacing the sorrow with a forced smile.

  “Wha-oh, yea. We better be going now,” he said bleakly, shaking Bob’s hand again. He grabbed mine and I waved at Bob, not sure why he was tugging so hard on my arm. And what about the mess?

  The frail Fenn that I had just found on the bathroom floor was gone. Here’s to a rapid healing ability.

  He rushed us toward the car and got into the driver’s side, slamming the door. I hurried, not sure what his issue was. One second he’s lying on the floor, passed out, and the next he’s a raging maniac. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard.