Fried Fly Productions
The Library |
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Wild Magic |
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Chapter I To
the moon, a lone wolf's cry Echoes
across the land. From
mountain tops and glaciers high, To
valleys deep and sleeping towns.
Time
moved slowly in the vast Irish mountain ranges, the sun seeming to take an
eternity to slip its last blood red rays below the horizon, causing the last of
the warmth in the air to dissipate. Mist twisted its translucent limbs 'round
the thick weatherworn trunks of ancient trees, intermingling with dark green
corrugated leaves and finger-like branches. Animals moved quietly about their
everyday work, collecting berries or stealthily stalking their prey. An
agonised scream rang out, causing all the animals that heard it to freeze in
fear and seemingly melt into their surroundings. Again the shrill cry split the
air like a thunderclap during a storm. The cries resonated from a small,
tumbledown old stone and thatch cottage, nestled into a nook at the foot of a
mountain. After several minutes, the strength in the screams ebbed to sobs, and
a new set of lungs challenged the world. Inside
was dark and cold, the only source of heat and light a small open fire, next to
which stood a small rustic crib. The flames twisted and danced as it they were
alive, consuming the wood that fuelled it like a starving fox. It cast a
flickering golden-red glow, which fell upon an elderly woman, clad in worn
skirts of hemp and woollen shawls. In callused hands she held a new-born babe,
blood from the womb still wet on wrinkled skin and tiny, perfect features. The
elderly midwife turned to the young girl lying exhausted on the bed. " 'Tis
a girl lass, yer daughter. " Her voice sounded as old as her gnarled body
looked. The
young mother turned pale blue eyes towards the child. " Salya. " Her
words were tired and breathless. " My daughter, Saly... " The sentence
ended in a scream, her back arching in pain. "
Twins! " The midwife exclaimed in surprise. " I din'na see this
littlun ah comin' " Salya
was placed down into the cot before the midwife turned back to the girl. She was
a Seer, one of the oldest in the region, experienced, having attended near a
hundred births, and bearing eleven children herself. Her talent lay in
foreseeing the birth, if a girl or boy were to be born, if the child or the
mother were to die, and an ability to heal by touch. She was well respected by
all, and had never once been wrong in her predictions. Until now. The
girl screamed yet again. "Easy
child, breath easy now, come on darlin', you know how. " Her
answer was another scream. The
second babe was born near dead, lungs labouring to supply an unnaturally small
and sickly body with oxygen, miniaturised fingers and lips turning blue from
lack of air. With a quick prayer to Brighit, the midwife lay her hand over the
babe's wildly beating heart, closing her eyes for a brief moment. A pale golden
aura surrounded the two forms, and the child's breathing eased. Unlike
most new-born babes, he did not cry, but lay still in her arms. It was unlikely
that he would see a moons cycle pass, but he was alive, which was more than
could be said for his mother. Settling
the nameless boy down next to his sister, the midwife turned to heat a pan of
goats' milk over the fire. As she waited, her eyes wandered over to the still,
blood-covered figure on the bed. The girl had been too small, her hips too
narrow to survive the multiple childbirth, born for beauty, not motherhood. Long
waves of midnight black hair, dampened by sweat covered the pillow, framing a
pale elfin face. Blue eyes stared sightless at the ceiling. At less than twenty
minutes old, both children were orphans. Turning
back to the fire, the midwife took the milk off the heat and turned to feed the
children. The little lass, Salya, a name for hope would be easy enough to sell.
Near any family would accept such a pretty child, but her brother would be a
problem. None would want such a sickly child who would die on them. Looking
again at the boy, she shook her head. He would endure a harsh life, brief and
most probably painful. " I'll call thee Ajax laddie, a name for sorrow.
" Next
morning, she gathered up the twins, swaddling them in blankets and heading out
over the mountainous terrain towards the nearest town. The new sun's brilliant
gold rays caressed the land, but never touched the cottage, outside of which a
newly dug grave, unmarked started to be reclaimed by nature. In a few years,
there would be no sign that anyone had ever lived this far from civilisation. In
her arms, Ajax whimpered, then let out his first cry, pitifully weak compared to
his sister's lung capacity. In
the distance, from the wildest part of the mountain, a wolf's howl broke the
morning stillness, as if in reply. Chapter II 'Cross
the earth a lone wolf roams, From
town to town, from home to home. To
wander into destiny's hand, Still
a child in a grown mans' land. The
city's bustle could be heard and seen from over a mile away. The dark sprawling
mass of houses, shops, trading stalls and other large buildings appeared as a
massive bruise amidst the vast greenery that surrounded it on three sides, and
the rich blue-green blanket of the sea to the east. "
Stop, thief! " The
cries of the fruit merchant rang out above the din from the crowd that
surrounded him, just as a young boy, barley nine turns old eased his way through
the throngs of closely packed people with long practised ease, heading towards
Dead Mans' District, the cluster of old, rickety houses and narrow, poorly lit
streets where nobody but its natives or fools dared to step foot. "
Stop him. Guards - Stop that little wretch " The
crowds began to mill with anticipation and excitement as the castle guards began
to chase after the thief, some moving out of their way, whilst others went
flying as citizen and guard collided. The
thief made a dash for the alley that led to his salvation, knowing the guards
would not follow him into the catacombs of Dead Mans' District. He was still
several meters ahead of his pursuers when he was brought abruptly to a halt, a
strong, unyielding hand clamped down onto his shoulder. "
Hey, lemmi go! " The
man holding his shoulder just smiled with amusement as the youth squirmed and
twisted under his grip, trying to escape. " Now why would I wish to do
that, thief? You should try paying for goods, it's a lot easier. " The
boy gave his captor a sarcastic look, taking in immediately his fine clothing,
clean skin and well-toned muscles. Obviously a noble, or a shaman. The face was
hawk like, black eyes piercing and knowing. The youth gestured with his arms to
his own ragged appearance, torn, filthy clothing and soil smeared skin. "
With? I don'na exactly have money to spare on luxuries like food, do I? " "
Try working for money. " The
boy laughed at that statement. " Workin'? And just who would employ a
street rat now? The King? " The
man frowned, and seemed to be about to say something more when the castle guards
arrived, panting heavily and faces bright red from the exertion of the chase. "
Tha . . . Thank-you . . . for catching the little . . . thief. We'll take him
from here. " The
guard reached out a meaty hand, which encircled the boy's throat, nearly cutting
off his air supply. The captive was twisted painfully around so as the guards
could attach heavy manacles to his wrists, then the guards started to literally
drag him towards the castle. The
noble's voice rang out. " Wait a minute. " The
guards paused. "
What is your name, boy? " After
a moment, the reply came. "
Ajax. " Ajax
looked around the cell he had been thrown into; dark, cold and dreary. At least
the skeleton of the previous inhabitant had, more or less been removed. If only
they could remove the stench of death and decay that stifled the air. With
a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up to his feet, struggling with the extra
weight of the manacles around his wrists, neck and ankles, and the heavy iron
chain that bound him to the stone wall. His
muscles ached. The guards had beaten him with a vengeance, tacking their
humiliation out on his small, under-nourished body; the scars from the lash they
had used across his back would be with him for the rest of his life. Ajax did
not particularly care about the pain his nervous system was telling him he
should be experiencing, he had been beaten much worse before. The Thief Lord he
worked for never accepted failure, and from one mistake he had nearly been
killed. Running
his hands through long blond hair, he surveyed his surroundings. He stood in the
corner of a small, stone room. Old rotting straw lay on the floor, half covering
the skull of the last person to die in that room, gaping cavities of the eye
sockets, and permanent grin giving it a mocking look, as if condemning any other
prisoners. Ajax's Brilliant blue eyes turned to survey the great oak door with
its ominous looking lock, then glanced down at the locking mechanism for the
bands of iron encircling his limbs, and grinned. It would be easy to escape. He
lay two fingers over the lock holding the manacles together and closed his eyes,
concentrating. He envisaged the leavers of the lock turning under mind's
pressure. He whispered a single word: " Unlock. " When he reopened his
eyes, the ring of iron lay unlocked on the floor. Minutes
later, he was heading at a cautious jog down the passageways that lead to his
freedom, trusting his intuition to lead him the right way. He
was unaware of the cold black eyes tracking his progress. An
aura of evil foreboding emanated from the powerfully built warrior,
unobtrusively observing the escaping thief from a darkened passageway of the
castle's dungeons. His thoughts were of surprise as he watched his departing
quarry. It
couldn't be him, could it? A scrawny youth not even ten turns old? Admittedly he
had, for the most part evaded detection and permanent capture, but how could
this child be the next Light Warrior? Keninal
shook his head, brown hair flying in every direction, and detached his tall,
muscular frame from the wall from which he had observed Ajax, and began to stalk
his prey. As
a Dark Warrior himself, he felt it better to be safe than sorry. Anyway, who
would miss the kid? He
followed his quarry up to the streets, vaguely impressed by the ability the boy
had to avoid the numerous guards milling around the corridors, and the calmness
he displayed when the alarm was sounded, alerting others to his escape. Maybe
this kid was indeed the One. Even
if he were not, he would soon die. The
figure walking slowly through the trees was that of the man who had prevented
Ajax escaping earlier that day. He stood against the setting sun, silhouetted by
red, gold and amber light. The woods on the outskirts of the town proved to be a
slight refuge from the mayhem that brewed down in the city, and he needed to
think in peace. Barlon
mused about the boy, Ajax, who he had handed over to the castle guards earlier
that day. From the moment he first touched the child he knew that he was
important to the future, and that it was imperative he prevented the boy from
loosing his hands for stealing. "
What should I do Arganon? " He queered, looking towards the great golden
eagle perched on his arm. The
eagle turned his head to gaze into Barlon's eyes. {Buy him.} The words echoed in
his mind. "
Buy him? My friend, you know I do not believe in owning people. " It
was one of the laws he hated, and desperately wanted to change. Slavery, whilst
accepted as normal by the vast majority of people was something he despised. {Would
you prefer he loose his hands, or die? He did lead the guards on a merry chase,
they are bound to take their revenge for their humiliation.} Barlon
sighed. Arganon was right, it was better to buy the child than to see him maimed
or killed. He stood up and turned towards the vast city below him. " We
better get going then. " He started to walk back to the array of houses
before him. After a moment, Arganon spread his wings and took to the air,
following. {He
should still be at the castle.} "
I know my friend. That is why I shall be going there first, I just hope it will
be in time. " The
night had turned dark earlier than usual with the dark boiling storm clouds that
thrashed the land with rain. The
streets were less crowded than they were earlier, giving Ajax less of a chance
to loose himself among the people, though the rain masked his progress slightly.
In more simple terms, the castle guards could see him. And were gaining on him.
He slipped on the soaking wet uneven cobbled roadway, then ducked into an
alleyway, increasing his speed in an attempt to loose his pursuers. Pausing
in a doorway, water dripping from sodden clothing, his hair plastered to his
skull. He gasped, desperately trying to bring his breathing back under control
and to rid himself of the crippling pain in his side. Looking
back, he saw the guards gaining on him. With a sigh, he pushed himself from the
doorway and ran. He was close to Dead Mans' District and home. The
thief made a dash for the alley that led to his salvation, knowing the guards
would not follow him into the catacombs of Dead Mans' District. He was still
several meters ahead of his pursuers when he was brought abruptly to a halt, a
strong, unyielding hand clamped down onto his shoulder. "
Oh please, " He said with a note of exasperation in his voice. " Twice
in one day? In exactly the same way? This is getting ridiculous. " He
turned again to face the man who had caught him, half expecting it to be the
same noble from earlier that day. What
he faced terrified him. "
You're going to die, boy. " the man muttered, a sarcastic grin on his face
and a brilliant, grave cold gleam in his black eyes. " Can't have you
living, now, can we? " "
Wh . . . Who are you? " "
My name's Keninal. I'm the Dark Warrior and your worst nightmare. " The
light from the lamps lining the streets glinted off highly polished metal and
the wickedly sharp edge of the hunting knife, turning silver steel to a blood
red hue. " Not that you'll live to dream again. Prepare to meet Donn, boy.
" The blade flashed downwards, aiming towards Ajax's heart, but missing
it's intended target completely. Ajax
had lashed out with all the strength his exhausted nine-turn-old body could
muster, kicking his assailant just under his kneecap, causing it to buckle. In a
split second, the youth had turned tail and ran. Directly
into the oncoming guards. Chapter III To
the pack the lone wolf howls, Effect
take place as others rouse. To
see and hear the future's voice, Or
to silence destiny's choice. The
Great Hall was in an uproar. Maids and servants fussed around the edges of the
room, talking amongst themselves, and, in part, enjoying the commotion. On the
dais stood a magnificent wooden throne, ornately decorated and padded with red
leather stuffed with horsehair. On it sat he King of the tuath, dressed in fine
stains and silks, with a stern, uncaring look adorning a handsome face, though
the green eyes glowed with amusement as he surveyed the scene before him. Six
burly guards stood in a semicircle around Ajax, his arms tied tightly together
behind his back with rope, a loop of which encircled his neck. Forced to his
knees before the King, the two guards holding him grabbed his hair, pushing his
head down in respect for the deity. "
Six guards for one little thief? " The words conveyed the amusement the
King felt. "
'E's a slippery little blighter majesty. We din'na want 'im ta escape. " "
And just what did this stripling do to aggravate my guards so? " "
'E's a thief milord. 'E stole from many a merchant in town, but 'e's always got
away before. And 'e escaped the dungeon cell we placed 'im in. " The
King laughed. "If he has always evaded your men during his escapades, how
did you apprehend him this time?" There
was a pause while the guard tried to comprehend what the King had said. "
He asked you how did ya manage to catch me last time. " Ajax muttered,
earning himself a sharp kick to his ribs from one of his captors. "
We 'ave the Shaman Barlon to thank, 'e stopped the rat getting ta Dead Mans'.
" The
King raised an eyebrow, Barlon was well known throughout over thirty provinces
as a powerful yet fair shaman, a man raised in the mystical ways of the
Ancients. He travelled extensively, and always had a reason for his being
somewhere, even if he himself did not know it. The King could not help but
wonder at the mystics reason for being in Llandoverlin, his tuath. His
musing returned to the situation at hand. Once a moons cycle prisoners locked in
the dungeons were brought up to stand trial for their crimes, and to receive
their punishment. For thievery, the usual punishment was to first be branded as
a thief with a simple 'Y' on the web of skin between the thumb and forefinger of
both hands, then, if they were caught again, the hands were amputated at the
wrist. "
Does he have the burns of a thief? " "
Yes milord. " "
Then remove his hands. " The case was a simple one, even if the guards did
want to see the boy's death. " Next. " "
Wait. " Nearly
everyone in the room gasped as Barlon himself entered the room, robes swirling
about him, shrouding him with blue dyed wool. "
I request, my Lord, that you release the boy into my custody. " "
May I enquire as to why you wish to have this child? " "
My reasons are my own sire, but I must stress that this is of the uppermost
Importance. " "
This is highly irregular. I can't release a criminal just like that. " The
last word was accompanied by a snap of the fingers. "
I am willing to pay for him. " At
this information, the King looked surprised, Barlon's dislike of slavery was
well known. The situation must be of great importance if he were willing to buy
someone. "
Ten in silver, " The King announced. " Is that satisfactory? " "
Yes, my Lord. That it is. " Barlon nodded at the guards. " Would you
please release him? " With
a look of disdain the guards released Ajax into the shaman's custody. The
great old castle had once stood proudly looking out over the sea, its tall
turrets once showing stark relief from the surrounding grasslands and cliffs.
Once it had been proud, defying the relentless power of storms and gale force
winds. Now it stood half-ruined, a mere shadow of what it had once been. Within,
Keninal swung his great sword at his opponent, venting the anger he felt at
letting the Light Warrior escape through the blow. The opposing blade shattered
with the force, splintering into iron fragments, which cascaded down to the
stone floor like metal rain. Fear shone in the man's eyes as he realised he was
going to die. Keninal
lunged again, gouging a deep wound on his opponent's chest, just below his rib
cage. Moving forward, the Dark Warrior thrust his hand up through the lesion,
evoking a cry of agony from his victim. Lungs were obliterated by Keninal's fist
till his fingers coiled around the heart. With
a powerful tug, the muscle came free of its confines within the body and was
thrown onto a wooden table before a darkly beautiful, but cruel looking woman
where it spasmed uselessly for a few meagre moments before becoming still. "
I take it your mission to kill the boy was not the greatest of successes. "
Her voice was silken smooth, with a cold edge of pure evil to it. Keninal
looked towards his sorceress, the beautiful Lydia and watched with appreciation
as she reached forwards to pick up the heart. Long crimson and black robes of
satin rustled as she moved, the golden torque encircling her neck glinting in
the firelight. A large venomous snake curled itself around her slender white
ankles, Its black eyes appraising the situation with a reptilian lack of
emotion. "
Where is he then, woman. " "
Patience, my murderous one. I will answer in time. " She
tossed her head back, causing long ringlets of black hair to tumble down behind
her shoulders. Lifting the heart with both hands, she spoke quickly the words of
sight as the blood remaining in the hearts chambers and veins fell onto her
closed eyes. Behind
her eyelids, the visions came. After
a moment, she reopened her eyed and looked towards Keninal. " We have more
to be concerned about than the boy. He has a twin sister in Kellahain who shares
his destiny. Her potential is already being exploited. " A
darkly gleeful look appeared on Keninal's unshaven face. " She's goin' ta
die. " He would enjoy tasting the blood of a child. The
sorceress smiled as she held the heart above the head of a snake that lay coiled
around the legs of the chair she sat upon. " I know she will. You never
fail twice in a row. " The snake's head snapped up, the lower jaw
dislocating to enable it to swallow the fist sized morsel, muscles contracting
as it swallowed. "
By the great Morrigan, Keninal. You better not fail. This is a battle I intend
to win. " "
Why did you buy me? " Ajax's voice was breathless as he tried to keep up
with Barlon's easy loping run which enabled someone to travel a score of miles
without tiring. In
the two days since they had left the castle and its surrounding town, they had
covered over fifty miles. The scenery had changed from the densely packed trees
of the Forrest to the wide-open expanses and sheer rocky cliffs of the mountain
range. For two days they had travelled in near complete silence. "
Tell me why. " "
Have you ever heard of the Light and Dark Warriors? " Barlon had stopped
and turned to face the golden child behind him. A child that reminded him of the
stories woven around The Shining One, Lugh. "
Yeah - Dark Warrior. That's what that maniac...Keninal I think he was. Thats
what he called himself. " Barlon's
eyes widened in surprise. " You meet Keninal and survived? I'm impressed.
He kills as easly as most people breath. " Ajax
rolled his eyes in exasperation. " You still haven't answered my question.
" With
a sigh, the older man turned to survey their surroundings, his eyes distant, as
if seeing something beyond normal sight. " Sit down. There is a story I
need to tell you which may help you to understand more. " Ajax
lowered himself to the sparse grass, looking expectantly at the shaman. "
A thousand turns ago, this land was in conflict; there were no tuaths, no kings
and the gods for the most part remained hidden. All except Morrigan; the goddess
of death and war. Individual tribes fought against each other, the amount of
blood shed on the planes would have been enough to fill the sea. "
Chaos ruled in the form of the Dark Warrior, the most evil being alive. He or
she would betray anyone; strangers, friends, family, clan, anyone. It was
believed that they came from the womb in the form of a venomous serpent, that if
they had a twin, they would kill their own sibling before their birth, as they
were always stillborn. "
They lived on blood, death and war. They enjoyed inflicting physical and
emotional pain on others, and Morrigan, who fed her bloodlust to her chosen
warriors, protected each Dark Warrior. "
Then the day came when a child was born. The purity that lay in her very bones
radiated out, effecting the people around her. She was adept at the Craft,
causing her clan to both love and fear her. After years of practice, she also
became a swordsmaster, intent on bringing justice to the land. "
When she turned twenty, she challenged the then Dark Warrior to a fight. For
three days and nights they battled until the woman's blade cleaved through the
neck of the Dark Warrior. "
With this act, the gods who had been subdued by Morrigan rose up to take her
throne from her. The scream of anger and hate she unleashed could be heard
across the entire country, to which peace came. "
However, Morrigan lost little of her power, and never gave up trying to reclaim
what was once hers. Every hundred turns, a new Dark Warrior was born. To keep
the balance, the gods decided that a Light Warrior would also be born. A warrior
who would be under the protection of Lugh. They would fight to the death. If the
Dark won, Morrigan would reign. If the Light won, peace would prevail for
another century. " At
this point, Barlon turned to look into the eyes of the boy watching him. "
You, child, are the Light Warrior for this century. It is your destiny. " Ajax
stared at the shaman open mouthed. He could not believe what he had just been
told. " Me? " "
Yes, and I also believe I am going to train you to achieve your destiny. " Chapter IV To
the stars a lone wolf calls, Fire's
friend and Darkness' curse. Loss
and pain to live through now, To
mountain ranges hope doth go. Seasons
passed. The lazy warmth of summer ripened into blazing autumn, when people
gathered crops of fruits, nuts and grain from the earth. Then, after the feast
and celebrations of Samhain, the days became shorter still, and cold nestled
into the bones of the land. Trees slept and men curled up next to fires were
waiting out the bitter cycle. Grudgingly winter gave way to the vibrant life and
energy of spring. Shoots bloomed and the trees awoke refreshed and ready to send
forth a dizzying array of colours and scents. Slowly spring slowed back into
summer and the cycle began again. Up
in the mountains, two figures sparred. The younger, an agile golden
lightning-bolt, danced with amazing speed around the older, blocking the blows
from the sword tat were aimed at him with a seven foot oak staff. {He
has improved greatly over the last five turns.} With
this both stopped, turning to face the golden eagle perched on a nearby outcrop
of rock. "
That he has Arganon, old friend. There is not much more I can teach him. "
Barlon gave a sidelong glance at his slender companion. The passing turns and
decent food had greatly improved Ajax's physical condition, golden brown skin
gleamed in the sun, the lean muscles of a swimmer or runner giving him a mature
poise. At five foot one, he little resembled the nine-turn-old thief from the
streets of Llandoverlin. Ajax
grinned, lowering himself down onto a moss covered rock near the eagle.
Stretching out his arm, he made a beckoning gesture to a leather water-skin, and
spoke. " Come. " After a slight pause, the water-skin flew through the
air towards the outstretched hand. Water glistened in the sunlight as it spilled
over the face and into the mouth of the boy. " D'ya want some? " "
No, thank-you, Ajax. " {His
use of language has not improved. Its 'Do you', not 'D'ya'.} Barlon
laughed. " I've long since stopped trying to tell him that. Whatever else
he may learn, he will not speak properly. " Leaning
back, Ajax closed his eyes, listening to the banter between his friends. His
thoughts drifted back to when he first met them. Still he didn't believe he was
the Light Warrior, but the turns had been kinder to him than his previous nine
turns. Barlon had led him up to this remote cottage, high up in the mountains
where he had begun his training. He smiled as he remembered one argument they
had had... "
Magic I can believe in, but what makes you think I can do it? " "
If you care to remember, you already have. If not, how did you escape the
dungeon? " "
With Words, there's a big difference. " "
And what, pray tell, is the difference between magic and words? " "
Words are words - you say summin' and it 'appens, there's nought magical about
it. If I say 'pass the bread', you pass it, is there anything magical about
that?" "
Yes. Both Words and magic is done through gestures and voice - a spell is the
same as using Words, it is just speaking to nature and the gods instead of to
other people or objects. Magic is just a different, simpler language than the
more common Words that everyone can under stand. " Ajax
was brought abruptly back to the present as Barlon pushed him off the rock. "
If you are quite done daydreaming, we have to go. " There was urgency in
Barlon's eyes. " There's a fire in the village, we have to help. " Ajax
nodded and pushed himself up to his feet, setting off after Barlon and Arganon
down the steep mountainside. Glancing up at the sun, he noticed several hours
had passed since the sparring match ended, and now the great golden orb hung
closer to the horizon than before. The
first sign they saw that indicated something was wrong in the small village was
the tall column of black smoke that rose in billowing clouds up into the sky. Ajax
and Barlon ran towards the settlement where the villagers had set up a human
chain between the stream and the fire and were transporting the water forth in
an attempt to combat the blaze. A number of thatched cottages had already caught
on fire, the flames speeding through the dry straw and heather which was used to
cover the timber and mud buildings. Sparks flew high into the air to alight on
the roofs of other houses, setting those alight as well. As hard as the
villagers tried, the fire was out of control. The only way it could be
extinguished was to let the fire burn itself out. As
Ajax and Barlon arrived, they saw a woman run towards one of the buildings
consumed with fire. Her eyes were wide open in terror and reddened by tears and
the irritation caused by the smoke. Ajax sprinted forward, catching her around
the waist and holding her back from the inferno. "
Mah daughter, " she sobbed, nearly inaudible above the roar of the fire.
" Mah daughter Genna, she's still in there! " "
Barlon. " Ajax looked around for his companion. " Take her. I'll get
her daughter out. " "
You cannot be serious, none but the gods can tame fire. The blaze is too
advanced - you'll be killed! " "
I have to, I canna let anyone die. " With those words, Ajax turned and
dived into the fire. Once
inside, Ajax lowered himself to the ground where the smoke was less dense.
Flames engulfed the walls and ceilings, making it seem as if the small, single
roomed cottage was made of fire. "
Genna. Genna can you hear me? " His voice, sullied by the smoke and intense
heat sounded unfamiliar to him. " Genna! " From
under a sturdy wooden table he heard a slight whimper. Moving towards the sound
he found a small girl, hardly four or five turns coiled up in on herself, lips a
pale blue against ash darkened skin and the vivid red burns which covered most
of her body. Gathering her up in his arms, Ajax turned to leave, only to find
his exit consumed by an impenetrable wall of searing heat. Glancing desperately
around, he could see no way out. Suddenly,
he felt a pressure building up in the back of his mind. Quickly it spread around
his body, filling every vein and muscle with an electrifying fire. After several
seconds, he felt it build to a maximum potential - his entire body felt alive
and vibrant. Tossing his head back, he stretched out his arm, like he had done
when calling the water-skin to him. Completely by instinct, the words came to
him: "
Fire that burns as sun doth shine, From
wooden walls and soul of mine, Dance
here and there your deadly flame, Die
down and sleep, preventing bane. Burning
light come here to thee, This
is my will, so mote it be! " With
the last words, he felt the intense pressure in his body seemingly explode into
his surroundings. The fire began to writhe, twisting together to form long ropes
of flame which encircled his body. Fire surrounded him, but did not burn. He
stood as still as a statue, arm outstretched, shrouded by a brilliant aura of
fire. The
villagers outside were amazed as all the fire left its lodgings in the thatches,
and spiralled towards a single house, the walls of which rapidly dried and
fractured under the onslaught. "
Look out! Everyone, get back! " The
commoners only just reached a safe distance before the building literally
exploded. Before them stood what seemed like a demon made of fire. Half backed
away in terror, whilst the other half stood still, petrified with fear. "
Ajax? " Barlon could hardly believe it. He had not expected the boy to hold
so much potential - controlling fire was not something that had been attempted
in millennia, the last person to try to do so being burnt alive by his efforts. Ajax
clenched his fist tight, the fire obediently forming a pulsing white-hot sphere
around it, looking like a miniature copy of the sun. He looked at it for a
moment, marvelling in its deadly beauty before almost idly waving his hand, as
if dismissing it. The fire dissipated then vanished. The
crowd started to move in around him; awed yet fearful of this powerful enigma
that stood amongst them. "
Genna! " The young girl's mother ran forward, clutching the hands of the
child who still lay still in Ajax's arms. " Genna, no! " The mother
wailed as she realised that no pulse beat beneath her desperately questing
fingers. "No, she can'na be dead, I can'na lose her too! " Looking
down at the child in the crook of his arm, Ajax tenderly lay his free had on the
girl's ribcage, directly over her heart, pushing gently. " Breathe. "
He whispered, gathering his will. He felt the electrifying pressure once again
build up in his body, but nowhere near the intensity it had been at before. "
It is no use Ajax. " He tried to ignore Barlon's gentle voice. {You
can not bring the dead back to life. I'm sorry.} Arganon. Pushing
the voices of his friends out of his mind, he concentrated on the lifeless body
of the girl. His next words were spoken with more force. " Live! " A
glowing golden aura surrounded the two forms. The burns covering the child
faded, smoothing themselves out to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. "
LIVE! " This time the words were almost shouted as Ajax threw his entire
will into bringing life back to the child. The power in his veins flared and
channelled down through his fingers into the still body, leaving him feeling
totally drained of energy. The aura surrounding them also flared, then as one,
the crowd gasped in shock as Genna shuddered and choked. Gently Ajax turned her
over as her ragged breathing filled lungs with much needed air, and her heart
started to beat wildly to restart the blood flow. As her breathing eased, Ajax
handed her over to her mother, who grasped her, crying with relief. Then
darkness descended on his mind. Salya
sat out under the shade of the large oak tree, keeping away from the burning
sun. Fore some reason she couldn't identify, she had had sudden images of fire
dance across her vision, and now sat trying to work out what it meant. For all
her life she had been getting strange visions and feelings that were not her
own. Before she had turned ten, she was always feeling starving, even after a
full meal. Often pains had struck her back, stomach and legs as if she had been
beaten, and bruises had appeared in strange places all over her body. It
had taken her several years to realise it was her second sight causing her
problems, even so, her tutor, Zarleya had said it was strange they should be so
intense. Such connections, she had been told, only arose in siblings, of which
to her knowledge, she had none. "
Salya, come on, we have training to do. " Maybe
she would get farther in her contemplation if this 'destiny' didn't rest on her
shoulders. " I'm coming, Zarleya. " She still found it hard to believe
that she was supposed to be the Light Warrior. Standing up to her full height of
five foot one, she pushed the mass of golden hair out of her azure eyes, looking
around for her tutor. The
large field she sat in bordered a large stone house that had been her home for
as long as she could remember. She
jumped as a scream sounded from behind the corner of the house. Turning, Salya
ran towards the sound, half fearing what she might find. She skidded round the
corner, coming to a full stop as she saw the lifeless body of her tutor of ten
turns slumped in a bloodstained heap on the grass, a wound through which light
was visible replaces her heart. "
Well, well, well. If it isn't another Light Warrior. " Salya
turned to face the speaker, her heart freezing over with fear at the sound of
his voice. "
I should have killed you many turns ago when I first found out about you, but I
wanted ta find and kill your pretty little 'Light Warrior' brother. Pity I
couldn't get ta 'im. " Brother?
She had a brother? "
Still, I had Lydia burn a number of villages to draw 'im out. Guess I'll just
have ta settle with killin' you first instead. " Salya
gasped with realisation of the words, but she didn't have time to react. She
felt the blazing pain in her stomach radiate through her body, then the numbing
sensation of her nervous system shutting down. Her thoughts became sluggish as
death closed its grip on her. Her last coherent thought before Donn claimed her
was: 'Its up to you now, brother unknown.' Barlon
looked down in concern at the boy lying on his bed. Several volunteers from the
village they had helped - no, - Ajax had saved had shown their gratification by
carrying the unconscious youth back to their highland home. That had been two
days ago, and still he had not stirred. Arganon sat on the open windowsill,
watching. {He's
still out of it then.} It was a statement, not a question. "
Yes. Controlling the fire, then bringing the girl back to life drained him of
his energy. " {I
thought that pyrokinetics and bringing the dead back to life were supposed to be
impossible.} "
They are supposed to be. After this, I think many people will be reviewing what
is possible and impossible. " Both
were jerked out of their conversation as Ajax sat bolt upright in the bed, a
scream of agony on his lips. Collapsing back down onto his side, he wrapped his
arms tight around his stomach, as if trying to ease some great pain. "
Ajax, are you alright? " Barlon reached down in concern. "
She's dead. " Ajax whispered, pain evident in his voice. "
Who? Ajax, tell me. " It
was several seconds before he got a reply. " Salya, mah sister, Keninal
killed her. " "
How do you know? " Another
long pause. " I saw it. He got someone called Lydia to start the fire in
the village as well, trying to draw me out. " Barlon
closed his eyes in despair. " Arganon, keep an eye on the boy. There's
something I have to do. " The
tradition was an old one. The head of an enemy was decapitated and brought back
as a trophy to display. Knowing
about it was one thing, seeing it was quite another. As Barlon walked past the
pikes adorned with the gruesome rotting heads of Keninal's enemies he felt his
stomach lurch sickeningly into his throat. Quickly he headed towards the chamber
where he knew Lydia to be waiting. As
he entered, his nemesis' voice rang out from the far side of the room; "
Welcome, brother. You took your time in getting here. " He
looked at the beautiful raven haired woman who was watching him with unconcealed
malice in her eyes. " You are no longer my sister, Lydia. You were
abandoned when you turned to evil. " "
It disgusts me to think we are even related, Barlon. It's time for you to die.
" "
Not one for small talk are you? " She
smiled sarcastically, raising her hand to point at Barlon and started to speak; "
Fire within me, fire around, Burn
your flame upon my hand..." Deep
crimson flames appeared mist-like around her fingers, twisting, dancing, quickly
growing in intensity. "
Grow in power till I let thee free, As
is said, so mote it be! " With
the last words, the brilliant red fire ball erupted from her hands, flying like
lightning towards the shaman, who ducked out of the way. The flame struck the
wall, turning stone to molten liquid. Quickly,
Barlon created his own version of a fire ball, his a rich blue hue which was
sent spinning towards his sister. Red flame struck blue, causing a deafening
explosion of light and sound. This fight would end in the death of one or the
other. For
several minutes the fight raged, Lydia alternately screaming defiance and
praying to Morrigan, neither of which did her any good. Barlon's fire ball broke
through the sorceress' defences to strike her in the stomach. Instantly
Lydia was surrounded in flames. She screamed in agony as the cloth of her robes
incinerated and her hair burnt, releasing an acrid odour, which mingled with the
stench of burning flesh. The skin itself erupted into flame, darkening and
charring. Lumps of flesh slipped from her body, revealing the snow white of bone
beneath. Internal
organs, once protected from the outside world were exposed and consumed by fire.
The screams stopped abruptly as the vocal chords incinerated and the brain
boiled in its own blood. Even
robust bone, capable of withstanding the high temperatures used in cremation was
not spared. As
the fire died away, all that remained of the sorceress was a light scattering of
grey ash. Barlon
fell to his knees, drained of energy from the fight. He twisted around as he
heard a wild yell behind him, just in time to see Keninal's blade cleave down
towards his neck. That
night, the large collection of enemy heads received three new additions. "
He's going to die, isn't he? " Ajax's voice was soft. The weight of loss
rested heavily on his heart - first a sister he did not even know about, now
Barlon, probably his only true human friend. {If
he hasn't already.} Ajax
did not reply. Instead he looked out over the mountains that had been his home
for so many years. After several minutes, he came to a decision. Turning back to
Arganon he asked: " Do you know where Keninal is? " If
a bird could look surprised, Arganon did a very good impression. {No, but it
would only take a few hours for me to fly around and find him.} Running
a hand through his hair, Ajax nodded. " Find him. Then tell his to come up
here. Its time to end this once and for all. " Arganon
looked at the youth, sadness in his eyes. {I'll miss you my friend.} "
I'm not dead yet. " Opening
his wings, Arganon paused, looking once more at the boy who had grown up so much
in the past few days. He would truly miss him. Then he took to the air, sharp
eyes looking out for the Dark Warrior to whom he would give Ajax's deadly
message. Chapter V Into
the dark a lone wolf walks, Destiny
done, no more to war. Light
and dark did clash and pass, To
next generation the game is passed. The
air hung with a heavy, stifling texture. No breeze stirred it. The trees had
stilled, as had every animal and insect in the woodland. Even the gurgling from
the small mountain stream was muted. All was still, waiting, anticipating
something. The
only sounds at all on the mountainside was the metallic ringing of sword on
sword and the rich song of a blade cleaving the air. Two warriors fought - the
only witnesses to their majestic and deadly dance the gods themselves. If
someone had been watching, they would have been awed by the sight - the speed
and agility of the younger balanced perfectly the skill and strength of the
older. It was a fight neither could have hoped to win. Ajax
was beginning to tire rapidly, and noticed the same exhaustion etched into the
face of his burly opponent - the legendary Dark Warrior, Keninal. The youth
dodged another blow from his enemy, jumping and twisting through the air to land
several feet from his previous position, shacking his head to get his
post-shoulder length blond hair away from his face. At the same time he raised
his sword to parry another of his opponents deadly swings. He
concentrated, pushing all thoughts of exhaustion from his mind. He faced a
murderer. Keninal had killed dozens of people unjustly, including Barlon and his
near unknown sister, Salya. Vengeance boiled through his blood, eradicating the
tiredness that lay in every muscle of his body. The
two were equal. Neither could win against the other and both knew it. They
fought a battle that would go on for another century, but someday it would end.
Dark against Light, a battle between good and evil, the victor determining the
fate of the entire country - either to fall to the chaos and bloodshed under
Morrigan's rule, or to rise to peace. The
end was near; he could sense it. This youthful opponent, not even seventeen
turns old could match his blade, which stood undefeated in battle. A scrawny boy
could, unlike his twin sister, match his legendary skill and strength. With a
scream of rage, he swung his sword in a powerful arc towards Ajax's heart. The
youth crouched under the blade, pivoting and swinging his legs round to catch
Keninal behind the knees, causing them to buckle. Regaining his balance, the
Dark Warrior kicked out at the Light Warrior, catching him a glancing blow to
the ribs. Scrambling back, the boy stood, raising his sword in anticipation of
another attack. They
were too evenly matched. In a fair fight, neither could win, but Keninal had
evil running through his blood. If he could not win in a fair fight, he would
have to turn it to his advantage. His last gift from his sorceress before she
died was a potion that could send him through time. He could not win now, but he
would in the future. He would kill the next Light Warrior before he reached his
full potential. Reaching
into his pocket, he pulled out the bag of silver blue dust - just enough to
transport a single person and grinned as his opponent's blue eyes widened in
shock. He was well versed enough in the magical arts to realise what was about
to happen. Ajax
dropped his sword and ran at Keninal in at attempt to stop him. He clutched at
the Dark Warrior's wrists just as the two were eclipsed in a brilliant explosion
of light and sound. For a second, the sun seemed pale in comparison to the
artificial light, then it was over. As
the smoke cleared and life returned to the mountain, all that showed the
evidence of the ferocious battle was the torn grass and Ajax's sword deeply
embedded into the bedrock. There
was no sign of the two warriors. End |
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