Born In Flames

  Lady Eve took a step forward, expecting me to follow suit. “Mages of every stature, from the lowest ranking Sage Mage, to a Grand Mage like Myrdinn over there,” she said, pointing to a silver-haired man, “dwell here.”

  My eyes followed her line of sight, lingering on the man she had just mentioned. Didn’t I know him from somewhere? Those lavender eyes seemed so familiar. I walked over to where he sat, next to the fire, and leaned in closer, trying to remember.

  “And you?” I questioned, still inspecting the man she called Myrdinn, enthralled by his chiseled face and silver hair.“How do you tie into all of this?”

  “That is of no importance right now,” she quickly shot back, pulling me away from the man called Myrdinn. I was about to yank my arm from her when she suddenly sucked in a hissing breath. I turned to see where she was looking as the room muted and everyone froze, heads pointing to the floor. The air was thick and pungent with fear.

  There he was.

  My breath caught as my heart slammed against my chest. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and felt a weird pulling sensation towards him. I knew him somehow. Zordon.

  He looked over to me, eyes flaring with hatred. For a brief second I felt caught and thought that he was going to run towards me. I thought he was going to kill me.

  But as the seconds elapsed and nothing happened, I remembered we were invisible and turned around to see just where his eyes were piercing. A lady, with long flowing champagnecolored hair that sparkled like a moonlit waterfall, sat alone in the corner. Her pensive face looked familiar.

  Eve elbowed my side and whispered, “That is the Arch Mage I spoke of, Liege Zordon, with his two sons, Zane the oldest, and Zhax the youngest.”

  The room remained silent as Zordon strolled through the Lyceum, his obsidian cloak billowing after his footsteps like a black cloud. The air felt weighted, like a storm was growing stronger with every step he took. His two sons followed on either side of him, their gazes arrogantly sweeping the room, snickering at every head that bowed.

  “The lady behind us is his wife,” Eve sneered, her lip curling in distaste.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the trio; their presence seemed to take up the entire open-aired room. The younger son, Zhax, favored his mother in looks with long wavy flaxen hair and bottomless blue eyes that complimented his gentle face. His soft features didn’t fit the brash luster that seeped from his eyes. Zane, on the other hand, aside from his short hair and clean-shaven face, was a carbon copy of Zordon.

  Zordon was tall—he had to be over six feet—with dark chocolate brown hair. His eyes matched his hair in darkness, and his face was hidden by a mustache and a thick beard that reached down to the middle of his chest.

  I turned to ask Eve if she knew more about him, but she was completely turned around staring at the lady in the back of the room, a doleful expression replacing her once stern face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She jumped. “Wha-I’m fine,” she faltered, tucking away whatever it was she was thinking. I eyed her dubiously, on the verge of asking again.

  Then Zordon spoke, and his abysmal voice trickled up my spine and into my brain–a strange familiarity latching on like flies stuck to a spider web.

  “The Seer will be here any minute now so gather around the Table of Thoughts, everyone,” he bellowed, grabbing his staff and heading to what looked like a throne of some sort.

  He took his seat at the suspended table with his two sons on either side of him.

  “How do the tables do that? I mean, suspend like that?” I wondered out loud.

  “By magic. This whole place was built by magic,” Eve said absently, answering the thought. Seven, tall marble chairs that seemed to have been carved up and out of the floor created the seats that everyone sat in around the table. I now knew who Zordon, Zane, Zhax, and Myrdinn were, but I didn’t know who the other three were.

  “That is Brohm, a Grand Mage, and the two eldest Mages are Albert and Ghandus. They are ranked Archion which is just below an Arch Mage. They are twins if you couldn’t tell. Those three men are the only men worth trusting besides Myrdinn,” she pressed.

  I was trying as hard as I could to absorb everything she was saying. There were no words forming on my lips as I stood there gawking at what was before me.

  She nudged me. “The Fates wanted you to see the prophecy so you must pay attention when the Seer shows up.” I nodded.

  From out of nowhere a man emerged atop the table. I could see through him as if he was a hologram.

  “That is the Seer. He is like me, one who can read the future and tell fortunes,” she pointed out. So this is how she ties into it. She has a lot of explaining to do when we wake up.

  “Welcome Soothe,” Zordon greeted. My eyes grew wide. Soothe? Is this the same Soothe that set up the security deposit box? It had to be. How many Soothe’s could there be? Fenn was going to flip. “Now we can begin,” said Zordon, stretching his arm towards the seats, indicating that everyone could sit.

  I looked over at Eve. “Is he-” but she put her finger to her mouth, quieting me. Then she pointed to Zordon who continued to speak.

  “I’ve been told you’ve been given the prophecy of the new world. It is rumored that I am a part of this?” When he spoke there was a voracity that tainted his voice. That deep, dark sound of eagerness that I myself have felt before. An eagerness to know who you are and what you are meant to be.

  Soothe moved to speak. He was blurry so his features were hard to make out. His eyes were the only distinct thing about him, a pearl color with no pupil. He spoke to the air as if no one was speaking to him.

  Eve leaned in and whispered, “The only time a prophecy is given is when major change is about to come. I’m speaking of a revolutionary type of change. That’s why Zordon’s so eager to know if he is a part of this, since he will affect the new dawn of our realm.”

  New dawn, like my name, I thought.

  Soothe closed his eyes and exhaled. His arms crossed over his head and came to either side of his body as if in a yoga position.

  Everyone in the room sat in deep concentration, but the atmosphere felt almost frantic. All of the men kept their eyes closed while they chanted like Monks, and energy crackled around them, sounding like tiny firecrackers. I turned to Eve to ask her what was going on, but hysteria was written all over her face.

  The seer then threw his head back and spoke. A deep voice, one that seemed to hold all the knowledge of the universe, crept in my ears like tiny spiders.

  “Of dragon born a conqueror prevails. The chosen one fated to protect the dying race.

  Third of three deemed protector to the progeny.

  The other marked for revenge. The book of life, pages turn yet unwritten. The canvas to your mortal soul; the connection to your immortal enemy. A death will come to He that breaks the barrier.”

  The air seemed to freeze as the intensity coming from Soothe spiked. The men looked to one another, a hazy fog emerging from their lips. I shivered, suddenly wishing I was wearing a thick jacket. Those words again. Before I could question Eve, Soothe shifted, something seeming to break his concentration.

  He paused, as if listening to something, and then his head descended slowly, eyes glancing sideways in Zordon’s direction. The deep inhuman voice re-emerged.

  “Time now smuggles your other half abroad, where she awaits the turning of age.

  Protected by the divine, the dawn of a new era will come another day.”

  The misty air gave one last punch of cold and then swirled away leaving Soothe to look up as if waking from a dream. Zordon glanced uncomfortably around the room, then sat up, chin defiantly held high in the air.

  “I knew it,” Eve barked.

  “Knew what?” I asked quietly, voice trembling.

  “He cut a piece out. He altered the prophecy.” I had no idea what she meant.

  “Does this mean I’m going to die?” I asked, my earlier fear resurfacing from my hand’s “short lifel
ine.”

  “A prophecy can never be completely solved until it is lived out. You can only do your best to be wise and cautious with the information given to you. Think of it as a gift of foresight,” she replied callously.

  “This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.” I felt everything around me collapsing as I stumbled forward, on the verge of fainting.

  She yanked on my hand and drew a dagger from out of nowhere, dragging it ruthlessly across the palm of my hand. I tried to pull away, but it was too late as my blood surfaced in crimson bubbles.

  “What the hell is your problem?” I charged, glaring at her.

  She glared back. Still holding my hand, she spoke coolly, “Your blood is proof. When this is over, you will see what is real,” and she dropped my hand.

  I pulled it into my chest, the droplets of blood falling below me. My anger stirred.

  Zordon spoke, regaining our attention. “You may leave us,” he said, wishing Soothe away with the swish of his hand.

  “Now let’s get down to business. This prophecy must be solved. Myrdinn,” he summoned, pointing his corpselike finger in Myrdinn’s direction but continuing to look at the other council members, “you will pick this apart.”

  His sons looked at each other, disappointment seeming to wash over their sunken faces. I almost felt sorry for them.

  “Father,” interrupted the older brother, Zane. “Don’t you think a more worthy Mage should be given this task? A Seer’s prophecy is not an easy riddle to decipher.” His eyes shot to the ground, ending his sentence much like I did when giving an oral report in school.

  “If I thought Myrdinn incapable,” Zordon began softly, “do you THINK I WOULD HAVE APPOINTED HIM?” Zordon yelled harshly, anger brewing as he hastily stood, hands slapping flat against the marbled surface of the table.

  The marble table shuddered as his voice boomed. “Do you doubt your Liege?” he spat, almost nose to nose with Zane, veins bulging all the way up his arms and neck. His eyes had gone completely black, as dark as the fathomless pit of hell grasping onto innocent souls.

  He reached out and grabbed Zane by the throat. Defensively, Zane’s hands wrapped around Zordon’s in an attempt to ease the grip as the blood quickly drained from his face. Black crackles of energy popped around Zordon.

  Eve flinched next to me.

  “Afflictum!” Zordon shouted, his eyes blazing.

  “AGGGHHHHH,” came a scream ripping from Zane’s throat. His lower body was twisting as if in agony while his face continued to redden from lack of oxygen. No one moved.

  Impulsively, I went to move forward to stop what was happening, but Eve held tight onto my arm.

  “Careful, little dragon, now is not the time for your temper,” she warned. Her head nodded in the direction of a mirror that was close by.

  My eyes widened. They were ruby red, and a trail of smoke wafted from my nostrils.

  “Little dragon,” I repeated, the reality suddenly slapping me in the face. But before I could demand answers, the situation at hand kept unraveling.

  “No…sir…I'm…I’m sorry…my…Liege,” Zane squeezed out through his blue-tinged lips as he twisted and writhed. His voice was distressed and cracking.

  “My Liege,” said Myrdinn, standing to regain focus, his voice as smooth as silk. “I will gladly take this task. Anyone would be honored. That is what Zane meant. He is a youngling who hungers for knowledge the same way we did when we were his age.” He laid his hand on Zordon’s arm, guiding down the rising temper.

  My tensed breath began to ease as Zordon’s grip lessened. Zane’s breathing became quick as he gasped unmercifully for air.

  Myrdinn continued. “I ask that I have leave to find a place of serenity. I need to have a clear mind in order to clarify this riddle. Do you mind picking a place for me? You know this forest better than anyone, my Liege.” Good, keep his mind occupied elsewhere, I thought.

  Zordon dropped his son. I gasped, thinking that he was unconscious as he lay unmoving on the cold white floor. Zhax moved for him, helping him up and walking him towards the back where their mother sat. Eve’s ghastly face was filled with horror. I reached out and touched her shoulder.

  “Do you know their mother?” I prodded. Eve nodded in acknowledgement. I wanted to ask her how, but I didn’t feel it was the best time.

  And then everything began to fade away.

  Chapter 12

  Some Clarity in a Dragon Sort of Way I WOKE TO FIND FENN and Eve leaning over me. Fenn’s face was painted in worry. “Are you okay?” he asked almost painfully as soon as he

  saw my eyes open.

  Of course I am , I thought with heavy sarcasm. It’s not like I just passed out or anything. Or even like a crazy lady invaded my dreams and proceeded to fill my head with even more confusing things.

  I looked over at Eve and then immediately looked at the palm of my hand. There trailed a line of clotted blood, still stinging from the jagged cut.

  “You were there,” I gasped.

  “I was there.” She smiled politely, but her eyes were mocking my earlier disbelief.

  “It was real, but how?” I asked, muddled. I pushed up off the ground with my good hand and scooted back. I needed fresh air.

  “That wasn’t a dream, my dear. That was the magic of The Fates. They wanted you to hear the prophecy that was made many years ago before your creation.”

  And that brought me to the most important question of all. “So…who am I?” I asked, bracing myself for what I already knew.

  “Why, you are a Mage…with blood of the dragon running through you,” she replied, as if I should have known.

  “Wait, what?” Fenn interjected, puzzlement creasing his brow.

  “I’m a dragon?” I asked, ignoring Fenn.

  “Yes, born of a dragon, fathered by a Mage.”

  “But how is that even possible?” I asked, mystified. Of dragon born a conqueror prevails replayed through my mind. The beginning of the prophecy. So it really is about me then. I am “of dragon born.”

  “By a shape-shifting spell,” she huffed impatiently. “Do you really think the how of why you are who you are is really important to the matter at hand? You are in danger, child, sought after by the most relentless, bloodthirsty Mage. What is important is that you find the keys that have been hidden,” she scolded.

  “Who’s after me?” I asked cautiously.

  “Zordon, of course.” She shook her head as if annoyed.

  I made a face at the memory of him. “Well, that’s just frickin’ great. A crazy, delusional man is after me while I have no memories of before or any idea about myself in general,” I ranted, standing just to get away from her.

  “Do you ever think anything through before you throw your tantrums? Have you not thought that maybe there’s a reason that you both have no memories?” she retaliated as she stood to meet my glare.

  I paused a moment, letting her insult sink in, and then bit my quivering lip. She was right, I hadn’t thought anything through.

  “No,” I conceded quietly.

  “I think that’s beside the point,” Fenn added, scowling. “How can she think anything through when she doesn’t have much to go off of? I mean, besides being here today, we have only had each other.” He wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulder, once again coming to my rescue.

  Instead of arguing back, Eve sat at the table, her piercing gaze commanding us to sit. She closed her eyes and lowered her face, holding her hands above the table. A faint green glow lit up the underside of her palms.

  I jumped back, grabbing Fenn and immediately regretted it as I winced from disturbing the cut. I swallowed the pain and tried to remain brave as Fenn pulled my hand close to his mouth, his cool breath bringing some relief to the wound.

  “What are you doing?” I scoffed, thinking that maybe we had pushed her too far.

  She ignored me as she chanted, “Appareo.” The green glow of her hands grew brighter as something began to materialize underneath
them. A book of some sort.

  When the book had fully materialized, she slowly opened her eyes as the glow diminished, and looked back at us.

  We were huddled together with shock written on our faces, the cut long forgotten. “She’s like us,” I whispered to Fenn.

  “We are from the same realm, Aurora. Come, sit.” She beckoned with her hand. “We are running out of time.”

  Fenn grabbed my arm and dragged me back over to the table. “Can you show us how to do that?” he mused, looking back at me with enthusiastic eyebrows.

  A smirk appeared on her solemn face, lighting the flecks of green in her eyes. She was quite beautiful when she smiled, almost intoxicating. She must have felt my probing gaze because her lip quivered and, regretfully, her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  “This Oraculus was created on the day of your birth,” she said, resuming her cool demeanor. “You see, in our realm, everyone’s fate is written the day they are born. It’s written into an Oraculus. All Oraculus’ remain in the Hall of Knowledge-which to you would be considered Heaven. But as I have said before, you are special.” She pushed it towards me.

  It was a leather-bound book, tethered by a stringy cord. The leather was worn and faded in some spots, like it had been around forever. I ran my fingers over the buttery softness, inhaling the fresh scent.

  On the front of it were three symbols that were somehow vaguely familiar. They took up almost the entire front of the book and when I touched them, they lit up as if recognizing my touch.

  Fenn was the first to recognize them as he said, “Hey! Those are the same symbols on the ring. Didn’t you say they would be on the keys as well? Is this a key?”

  Eve smiled again, her eyes gentle as she shrugged.

  “What does that mean?” I couldn’t help asking, envious of the connection she had with Fenn.

  “You will soon see,” she foreboded. “I can’t just give you all the answers. You have to earn the right to be the Progeny.”

  I flipped the Oraculus over in my hands, giving up on weaseling information from her about the keys.

  “Why is the back burnt?” I asked as I trailed my finger over the burn marks. It seemed like someone had thrown it into a fire or something. Strangely, the deepest burn ran along the edge of the spine.