The Prophesy of Fire
1 Birth of the Fireborn
"The Prophesy of Fire" by Chelsea Callahan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
The kingdom of Levinfall was once an unruly land with no name. The sea cut chunks from its body at odd angles and the woodlands ran wild. The fields were choking with wildflowers; the trees were dense and full of magic. Passing from clearing to forest the hum of life was palpable. The world was raw and beautiful; the creatures in the woods were strong and more gruesome than anything one could imagine. This land was no place for humans, the people began as misfits, raising small camps, hiding from their foes, but it true of every inch that this was no place for Man. Humans could nothing but struggle to survive here. They were small and powerless, they had no chance. They would soon begin to die out, and many were sure the final crucible had come the day the snow fell hard killing thousands. It was the greatest cleansing this land has ever seen. What remained of the people gathered on the western coast, it was said that was the one place not dead from snow. Hundreds came together in the hopes of finding warmth and protection. Prayers to the common Gods were offered for days and days, yet their numbers dwindled, they were losing hope. They were dying.
The leaders were on the verge of madness when a woman, disfigured with old age appeared at the edge of the camp. She was shunned for her appearance and the children fled at the sight of her, but the leaders knew she was different. She was something more than human, she was not like them, but they sensed she was there to save them. Zara Levinfall had been living alone in the woods, learning the ways of nature, mastering the magic of the land, cultivating her magic for years. She was the first of the mages and began teaching anyone brave enough to learn. It was near thirty years before civilization rose up on the coast and pushed back the woodlands, but they managed it. A large and beautiful kingdom was erected and named for Zara’s family, they called it Levinfall, and her son, who’d, emerged with her as a baby from the wood became leader of the White Council, and in almost every way became king. This council was made up of humans and mages alike. Men and women sat at the table together and divided the kingdom into sectors. Each would rule and serve their people as one, keeping them all united through their council. It worked flawlessly for three generations, over the ages the name of that first son was lost, but the descendent who remains etched in history is the one who died the night of the rebellion.
One council member Bartholomew Rozgoul realized began believing the mages to be liars, he thought them power hungry and cruel for keeping the magic to themselves. When the celebrations began honoring the Goddess Phoenix he gathered an army and rose up in the dead of night and ripping mage after mage from their sleep. The pyres burning from the celebration were large enough in the city squares to color the horrible purge in red, like fiery demons leaping high in ecstasy. Hundreds were gathered from the city and nearby villages. Each mage was thrust through the gates of the palace and into the large open court yard. There they were face to face, and many for the first time, with their leader the Zander Levinfall the first a direct descendant of the original Levinfall witch. He was tied to an entirely different sort of pyre before them, and burned alive by Bartholomew. The man now called himself High King and vowed that he would do the same or worse to any mage trying to escape his land.
The palace behind him was called Firewall and its white stone walls were shining like alabaster skin in the moonlight, the fire not reflecting the light of its dying king. Women and children clung to each other and some men fought back, but most stayed silent waiting for the Fates to call down their final blow. When a hush fell over the frightened people Bartholomew gave them a choice. Each mage was to swear fealty in a blood oath to the king and be locked within the Obsidian Keep, newly erected on the south side of the city or be killed on the spot. Death would be swift, but your head would be cleaved from your body and thrust high above the ramparts on a spike. Most took a knee at that threat and swore, though the blood oath made you a slave.
Many however did not and died that night.
When dawn came there was a mass exodus from the city. Two hundred men and women were forced to leave their non magical families and enter the keep, its black stone in stark contrast to the palace they held so dear. Many of those faces turning tearfully to look over their shoulders that day as the moved through the high walls would never see the light of day again, but they had hopes that one would rise and rescue them, they would always hope for deliverance. The horizon carried the dawn man that day, and the fading of magic. But what once was will always rise again.
Years passed however, and Bartholomew’s kin became more settled on their throne and Levinfall began to spread across the land, turning the unruliness into a grand kingdom, of many shining cities. The mages tinkered in their keep, doing the High King’s bidding but none ever spoke to the outside world. Any attempt at reaching their long lost families would mean certain death. Levinfall was no place for magic any more. To the south there were the fishing villages, the animal charmers, and tradesmen. To the north were the rough men, who mounted their wives like a horse each night, but the east was the mirror the west. It stood high as another mix of culture, a home to the Wildman, the tradesmen, the charmers, and the happiest of common people. King Ragus Rozgoul the third of his name, chose his cousin Nicolai Haven to be the lord of the east, and gave him permission to act as the king’s voice on the eastern coast.
Lord Haven named his lands Havenwood, and swore fealty and honor to Ragus, they were closer than brothers. This choice however, they did not know would be the first down a long and harrowing path for their kin. The time would soon come that one of the twin cities would burn and the other would flourish, but the visions of a mage could no longer warn the people.
They would face the future on their own.
As both cities seemed to stand as shining becomes a fact little known to the common people worried the King. Obsidian Keep was no longer big enough for the mages. Their numbers had doubled, and they demanded more space. So a second tower was built, with chambers stretching from under the ground to higher the first keep. Rumors plagued the palace that inside the walls they were being incestuous, that the keep was full of deformed and ugly children because they all slept with their siblings and children. Still the mystery was enough to make the people fear the black towers. Some younglings would test their bravery by slipping through the bars in the gates. Guards had to be posted around them to keep the magic in and children out, but the curious soul would not rest, until one day a little girl slipped through the gates, to go after her doll thrown over the fence by her brother. The little girl was small and still sucked her thumb, but when she bent to pick the doll up she came face to face with a pale bald man. His eyes were dark and his skin paper white.
Her thumb came loose from her mouth in awe and the man smiled his blue lips stretching over his yellow teeth. The sight so shocked the child she started wail and the guards turned, but they were too late, she lay dead on the stones, and there was no sign of the man, for he should not have been seen. The mages were confined to the inside of the keeps. Stepping outside was death, and so that the child could not name he took her soul and sent it back into the ether. Fear of the towers soon spread and the city moved away from it. Having miles of open fields and crumbling buildings between them and the people, Obsidian Keep and its unnamed twin were nearly forgotten. Ragus kept a sharp eye on the black towers from his chambers but gave them no real thought. As long as he kept tradition in his mind there was no need for even entering that prison.
When the day came that Ragus’ wife revealed that she carried a child he celebrated heavily sending the entire kingdom into a time of joy. Tables were erected in the streets and a city wide feast was held. Every cook, every family had brought something and was to share it with the world. The king himself strode down every street and toasted to the people, toasted to his soon to be born son and heir. Ragus had never been a cruel king, helped turn magic into a thing of the past, making it nothing more than old and archaic ghost stories. Inside the keep was a different story.
For an age, they’d created their own hierarchy. The Magus taught the younglings how to control their power, and a gift that was soon becoming part of the bloodlines. Magic was no longer something to be taught. It was inherited and the mages would lure mates from outside world through the gates, growing their numbers, letting pregnant girls go back to their homes and birth magical children in far off cites. The Magus was plotting, he was growing very old, but the first Magus never died. He’d found a way to still death, and remain. Everyone inside the walls remained, he was the only one who grew withered and old, but the rest retained their youth. Nightly there were chants that the guards could hear from the gates, but no one knew that the tunnels newly dug under the city were full of growing creatures. No one knew that magic was beneath their feet.
A dark storm rolled in the night Ragus’ wife collapsed in throngs of birthing pain. Her screams echoed through Firefall all the way the keep, waking the Magus from his sleep. A dark omen was the storm to him, and the seers within his tower began to wail. Running to Sarefiee the most powerful seer he asked her what was wrong and she explained. This child would be the harbinger of death to the peace they’d grown to understand, they would all be killed, none would survive without great sacrifice. The only option for survival was one she could not bring herself to speak of.
The Magus however understood and gathered his people, lining them in the hallways to chant, as he summoned all the power he could, the storm outside growing greater. The Magus’ words echoed through the halls and could be heard in the grand white palace, he spoke and old and dead language but Ragus knew that this was not good. He felt the curse on his family coming to life. He felt it’s dark power sealing over his heart. In his final words though only the mages heard him. From the fires of the Phoniex she will be borne, she will rise and her bloodline will protect the people. She will end the age of man, and lead us all into freedom and with my death comes her birth, and so it begins the rise of the Fireborne. As his last word echoed through the halls he revealed a long silver dagger and the chorus of screams he died, the blade stick hilt deep thru his heart. No one knew what would happen next. No one knew about the growing mass of Mages in the north, and fire that broke out in the center of their camp as the Magus died. Sarefiee was only one who knew that because of his sacrifice the harbinger’s coming would not last long. The keep prepared for its destruction, but the prayed nightly that their deliverance would come. The Fireborne had to rise.
As Ragus’ son Martin grew to adulthood the rules and restrictions on the Obsidian Keep increase. The food is limited and shrouded bodies being appearing in the court yard, before they are set on fire, burning so their spirits may go to the Phoenix. Martin at birth was pale and grew to be sickly. It was on his sixteenth birthday that he was struck by a powerful illness. The boy was on his deathbed, and his father the good king was so terrified his wife could not stand to be in his presence. In his fear Ragus turned to the one thing he knew that would help where human medicine could not. Flocks of commoners gathered to watch as he stepped thru the gate and opened the barred door of the keep. Stepping past the most recent bodies he disappeared inside. Having never enter the walls he was shocked to be instantly enveloped in darkness. Turning in circles he began to pant.
“Magus, I need the Magus.” He shouted, fumbling over the pronunciation of the old term he knew. Before the keep a Magus was the oldest and most powerful of the mage clans. He was about to call again when a light flared up far away in the darkness. Slowly he picked his way across the floor to the light. After a long moment he found himself in the center of the room standing by a torch.
“Touch the flame and remain unscathed, it is the first of three trials. You must pass them, it is only then that you will be able to meet the new Magus.” A female voice echoed over the hall, resounding in the rounded room. All Ragus could see in the darkness were stones under his feet, stones the color of blood.
In confusion the king’s eyes found the fire, it had turned blue throwing strange shadows around the room.
“I do this and you’ll help my son?” He called into the darkness, shielding his eyes form the fire, to see if he could make out any one in the hall.
“Survive the trials and yes, we will help your son.” The female voice called out again, from higher above him. Turing back towards the flames Ragus eyed them suspiciously. He was raised to know that a mage had great power, and many of them often lied to hurt the humans. Bartholomew had sealed them in this keep to protect the humans, too diminish their numbers as much as he could, but now Ragus himself had made a grievous error entering the keep alone. With no choice left he raised his fingers to the flame and as they bent to lick his fingers he drew back in shock. The flame had been cold, and he returned his hand with confidence. It shifted and as he stared into the blue light it began to travel down his arm. Trying to get away he found his arm was stuck, and trying only made the fire move faster.
“What is this?” He growled in a panic, but nothing happened.
The hall remained silent as he began to spasm and the magic consumed him entirely. Standing on the platform of above the king was the woman. In the darkness of his vision he could not see the stairs inches from his feet, or the fact he’d crossed a thin walkway to the center of cavern. Her eyes glittered bright blue as she filled the king with the images of fire, a small smile playing at her lips. The Magus Sarafiee had been in prayer all morning and would not emerge from her trance for another three hours. Danielle, the best illusionist in the walls, had all the time in the world. She could play with this king and kill him well before the woman was done. After all time moved much slower within the walls of Obsidian Keep. As Ragus started moving towards the edge of his little stage Danielle was joined by another girl. Ash by her looks alone could be no older than tweleve.
“Leave us sister. You should be in prayer.” Danielle spoke keeping her voice from the vision. She knew why Ash was here without having to guess. Sarafiee had seen what she was doing. Having a seer for a mother often resulted in such occurances.
“I was sent to stop you. The Magus knows he’s arrived. She has already begun preparing what he needs. You cannot kill him.”
The little girl looked up to her sister who had not moved. Ash may have been a foot shorter and have the face of a child but her age was nearly twice that of Danielle, whom she affectionately called Dani. Ash was truly gifted and had slowed her age, much like the first Magus, but not intentionally. She liked to joke and say it was the curse of power, being to young for anyone to take her seriously. In truth Ash would outlive almost everyone within the walls of Obsidian Keep and its twin tower.
“I don’t care. Sarafiee is an antiquated fool. We need to do something, we’ve all seen what is ahead, and I for one will not bow to this fool, and die like our father did.” Danielle grumbled her eyes growing a brighter blue. The king below them began to whimper. Part of him knew what was going on, he knew that he’d lost control of himself, but he could do nothing to stop it.
“Would you like me to tell Sarafiee? I’m sure she already knows what you’re planning, but I could tell her for you. Give you time to play with your food.” Ash sighed heavily, her coal colored eyes resting on the king, whose breeches were growing darker from the urine soaking through them.
“Food, you say, ha. This little rat is not even a taste tester.
What do you think the people would do if we killed the king?” Danielle’s hand shot out and the King was lifted off the ground and she started dangling him over the cavern. Should Ragus be dropped he'd fall thirty feet and end up impaled on a spike.
“You know what will happen. Just as I know, my trying to stop you will only mean death that much sooner.” Ash sat down on the stone platform and dangled her legs over the edge. Her little frame gave her a grace and flexibility that few possessed. As the little one disappeared for a moment slipping off the edge, Danielle rolled her eyes and placed the king back down. The smell of him defecating was getting to her, ruining her concentration.
“So have you chosen a side sister?” Danielle’s voice echoed a little and she realized that Ash was no longer beside her. She did not notice when the little one slipped inside the vision with her. Ash was standing quietly behind her sister watching what Danielle was trying to do. Watching as Ragus fought a pair of black lions, ones that had featured prominently in the scary stories the Dani loved so much. Unlike her sister Ash had grown up at her mother’s side. To be the daughter of the Magus was a great honor, and Ash was foreseen to be the next Magus after her mother, should the harbinger fail in his destruction.
Danielle however had been tainted at birth. Their mother Sarafiee had a vision that Danielle would turn into a mage of the dark, and betray her. No one trusted the dark mage, they were left alone and allowed to roam the keeps without heading the rules, but should one step out of line Sarafiee would kill them herself.
The dark had been the first bodies to appear outside for burning. Laughing to herself, Danielle thought amusing how hard Ragus fought and began to despise him more. She’d never known her mother’s love, let alone a father’s. The only solace to her lonely life was Ash. Sarafiee would refuse any time Danielle asked to see her but Ash would always appear at the most random moments and make her smile again.
“Don’t do this sister.” Ash spoke up knowing how much it would startle Dani. She did not expect the entire vision to snap and open her eyes back inside the keep.
“What is this witch? Where am I?” Ragus gasped turning on Ash, who was standing at the bottom of the platform, and at the end of the walkway, Ragus had nearly fallen from.
“Inside the keep, my apologies High King, Dani was only playing around.” The little girl shrugged looking upward at her sister who was growling from high above them. The platform was nearly twenty feet high.
“Playing with me? My son is dying I need to save him. Tell me where the Magus is now. I demand his help.” The king snapped taking a heavy step towards Ash.
“She is in prayer; my mother should not be long.” Dani called down in a calm voice surprising her sister. The blue of Danielle’s magic still had no faded from her eyes and her anger was coming off in waves. Any empathy within range would be ready to murder someone should their control slip even in the least bit.
“I demand to see her now.” Ragus growled rushing towards Ash. To his surprise an invisible wall blocked him. He hit it hard with his fist in anger, almost sending himself down into the cavern.
“She will be with us shortly.” Ash said her nerves on high alert. This was what was coming for her, she knew that now.
After months of nightmares her death had come.
“My son is dying; you will not stop me from seeing her.”
Ragus growled again and pulled something from the neck of his shirt. It was a charm. Ash gasped and her control slipped.
The charm was a very old one, the very same that had protected Bartholomew Rozgoul from Zander Levinfall. Seeing her surprise Ragus charged again this time grabbing a hold on the girl’s neck, lifting her over the cavern. Danielle nearly collapsed in shock,
her voice echoing off the walls as she began to scream.
Ragus smiled wickedly, no one would get between him and saving his son. Or so he thought, Ash watched as Dani launched herself off the platform and came hurtling towards them.
“Let her go you fool.” The illusionist growled landing on the stage she’d been using to torture the king.
“Summon the Magus.” He demanded tightening his fingers around the girls neck once.
“I’ll kill you before I help you.” Danielle snapped summoning power from the walls around her. She knew how powerful that charm was but she had to try. Ash was the only thing in her life that meant something, she could not let her die.
“Fine.” The king’s voice was low and menacing as he turned his eyes back to the calm face of Ash who’d stopped flailing in his grip. He was no longer holding her by the neck, but by the shirt, and she held tight to his wrist.
“Our deaths will spark the dawn of a new age, the harbinger of death will rise and we shall fall.” Ash spoke softly as Dani’s fingers started to twitch and glow red with power.
“Our deaths, darling you’re the one who will die.” He chuckled and let go of her shirt. To his surprise she did not scream on the way down. Only closed her eyes and spread her arms as the spike slipped like butter thru her gut.
“You will pay for that.” Danielle had never felt so much power coursing through her veins, something was different. Her anger was fueling her. The floor began to tremble beneath her and Ragus paled. He’d not expected such a display.
“Take me to the Magus or you will suffer the same fate.” He said but the confidence he’d once had was gone, and a fresh wave of urine spilled from him. The lack of control he had on his bladder was frustrating him but he could not bring himself to spend much thought on it. His hand still firmly around the charm began to burn. Dropping it he swore. It was getting hotter by the second, as were the wet parts of his breeches. Something was wrong. Before he could call out in fear the charm around his neck set fire and his clothing constricted making it impossible for his arms and legs to move even the slightest. Danielle’s fury was only growing. The man began to scream echoing in the tall tower.
“No Dani stop.” Sarafiee’s voice called from above her, but she did nothing of the sort instead she charged the king and shoved him from the walk. Like a burning candle he light the way down the cavern and landed burning beside Ash, illuminating her dead body. The girl’s eyes were open and her little hand was clutching the crescent moon that had hung from her neck.
“He killed her. He had the charm of Bartholomew and threw her to her death. The little fool couldn’t fight him. I had to kill him. He took her from us. He broke the laws.” Danielle called staring down at her sister’s lifeless corpse, and dousing the flames on Ragus as new ones began to spread out from Ash’s hand, covering her in a blue haze.
“I never saw that it was you in the vision. I knew that something would come, something would kill Ragus and awaken the Harbinger’s wrath, but I never suspected it would be you.” Sarafiee whispered, appearing at her daughter’s side.
“I had to kill him.” Danielle whispered back. Her throat dry and her body going numb, the girl felt ill. She’d never fully thought about what it would mean to kill someone. Let alone kill the king and awaken an even greater evil.
“I understand your choice my dear, and I am sorry for what I now must do. Losing one daughter is hard enough, but both will be agony I’ve never known.” Sarafiee’s voice wavered making Danielle turn to her. For the first time in nearly a decade she was looking at her mother and the woman was crying. In all the times she’d imagined their reunion Danielle had never imagined this. She did not scream or cry as Sarafiee raised a hand to her cheek. Her little girl’s skin felt so cold as she brushed her fingers over it. It was with a strangled sob that Sarafiee stripped the girl of her soul, sending it back to the ether. Outside the keep one of the guards would be granted with the sight of another body shimmering into appearance over the others.
The waiting corpses stood thirty high, and this one appeared like the jewel on the top of a crown. The guard found this new one beautiful. He enjoyed the curve of her mouth and the slope of her breasts in her dead form and knew instantly that he would have married up in a second should she have been human and not locked within the keep. The fool was stepping closer to examine her more closely entertaining gruesome thoughts about stealing her way in the dead of night when the fire irrupted throwing him backwards. The people still around waiting for the king to reemerge from the tower started laughing at him. The chorus of noise drew more spectators and as the story of the foolish guard spread the doors opened. At first no one reacted but then a cloaked figure stepped forward opening both doors. The people expected the king and instead found a woman wearing a red cloak stepping forward to lead more cloaked men. Between the men was a charred body laying upon a cot. As the passed the commoners who shunned away from the figures whispers started. Someone said the burned body wore the king’s clothes; however Sarafiee and her servants reached Firefall without disruption, and together entered the grand hall where the Queen and her son were sitting in court. Martin sat coiled in a blanket a glazed look in his eyes and his mother was sitting in for the king but when her eyes swept past Sarafiee to the corpse of her husband she took off thru the middle of the court and stopped short in front of her husband.
“What is this.” She whispered, horrified.
“When the king arrived I was not present. My youngest daughter found him and began to play her games. My eldest intervened on my orders but your husband would not wait for me.
He threatened them and threw my daughter from the tower down into a cavern we keep for protection. The little one died instantly.” Sarafiee knew that no matter what she said the Queen would not listen. The Magus knew that this was how she was to die.
“And what of my husband, who did this to him?” the grieving wife snapped turning on Sarafiee sharply.
“Danielle my youngest, in her anger and despair broke our old laws and has paid the price for her crime. I am sorry I was not swift enough to save the king.” The Magus kept calm and waved a hand at the men holding the king’s body. They disappeared and a stone rose from the ground to support the corpse.
“What?” Martin shrieked from his cocoon surprising Sarafiee.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” Murmured the Magus but Martin threw off his blankets and stumbled towards her, sword drawn.
“You killed my father?” The boy shrieked, his dark eyes clouding with hatred.
“My daughter did, my Danielle. Your Grace, she has paid the price. Her soul has been banished to the plane between worlds, where she will never rest.” Sarafiee spoke softly as the boy king’s sword swung up stopping half an inch forms her neck.
“I want you to summon all of your people here. Bring them all to the courtyard. Do it now. I know you can summon them with a word.” He growled flicking the blade enough to draw out a drop of dark blood from the neck of the Magus. Sarafiee knew this was bound to happen and had already told the people to follow behind her. From the moment she stepped inside the great hall, the people of the keep had poured from its walls, some running to freedom others bowing to their fate. There were two possible futures at this very moment. Every mage would burn or the Fireborne would reveal herself and the tides would change.
“They await you outside my lord.”Sarafiee closed her eyes and waited for the final blow. The boy moved back dropping the sword from her neck, unlike the Magus expected. Turning to walk away, to walk towards the door however Martin smiled to his mother, who was still horrified by the death of her husband. The Queen looked at her son suspiciously, until he spun round and his sword sliced clean thru Sarafiee’s neck. For a moment her head sat where it was naturally, but then the blood began to seep from her wound and her body died falling to the ground and sending her head tumbling across the hall. The entire court gasped, and quickly took a knee.
Long Live The King.” The subjects called out but Martin ignored them sparing them nothing more than a furious glance and marched through the hall doors out to the grand staircase leading into the courtyard. As Sarafiee had promised throngs of people were there. Many were bowing others were lying prostrate on the ground. Only a few stood and they seemed ready to fight.
“Gauds, seize them. They killed my father.”Martin cried out his hand trembling around the sword he waved in the air. Stunned the guards didn’t move.
“Sire?” a knight turned towards the boy about to ask him to repeat but Martin turned glaring at him and swung his sword again, doubling the blood on its blade. When the knight fell dead to the ground the others snapped into action.
“One by one they will lose their heads, as will any guard who tries to save them.” The boy snarled. Turning back to the servants who’d followed him outside he told them to bring a cushioned chair. He would sit and watch as the Mages died. But as he sat and the guards set work a noise was echoing from outside the courtyard. Martin turned to his servants, but no one could name the noise. It was a lowly knight running in past his guards that told him. The man dropped to his knees on the top of the steps and explained.
“Sire there is something coming, a girl, a mage, I’ve never seen anything like her” the man’s breath came out hard and his words were disjointed.
“What do you mean?” snapped Martin.
“She’s all alone but you can see her power. It’s coming off of her in waves. They say she’s was born of fire. The commoners are saying she’s the Goddess returned, Phoenix alive in the form of a mage woman.”
“Then I will welcome her just in time to watch her people die.
Kill them now, kill them quickly.” Martin said redrawing his sword. The Mages began to gasp and whisper realizing that their savior was coming. By the time the far wall of the courtyard imploded only ten had been killed. The magic users were fighting back. Her presence only made them fight harder. Striding between the surging masses Martin spotted her. Tall, long flowing black hair, and eyes glowing bluer than anything he’d ever seen. She was here to kill him he thought.
“The war is over Martin. Call off your dogs now, or I will kill them all.” The woman was nowhere close to him but he heard her clear as day.
“Never.” The boy was foolish, crying out like a child.
“So be it.” The girl’s eyes began to grow brighter and around her the shrieks grew louder. Men began to writhe in agony and fall at the feet of each mage fighting back. While he watched the horror of his men falling dead, Martin did not see the girl approach him. She was standing at his side when he turned cowering towards her.
“What are you?” he gasped, looking her up and down in disgust. She was beautiful but clearly deadly. This could be no ordinary mage. Not even the Levinfall witch had this kind of power.
“I am Alia Fireborne, the first of my name, sent to end your reign before it even begins Harbinger. The age of man is ending once more, and the people of the phoenix will rise again.” She smiled wickedly at him and raised a hand to his cheek. Martin closed his eyes cringing in fear, but when he opened them he was no longer on the steps of Firefall. He was in a cave behind crude stone bars.
“What is this place.” He cried out rushing the bars.
“She would have killed you boy, if fact I’m positive she thinks she did, and I would have her die believing it. I’m not ready for anyone to know my plans yet.” chuckled a deep masculine voice. Searching the darkness Martin saw the man. His leathers were sculpted tightly to him and his eyes were glowing green.
“Who are you?” The boy cowered backing away as the man stepped forward.
“Hmm, I haven’t had a name for a very long time, but for now why don’t you call me Kerouac.” With another rumbling chuckle the man stepped into the only bit of light in the cavern.
Martin gasped; he’d seen the face before in the histories. This man was meant to be dead.
“You, you died.”
“Nothing with magic ever truly dies my friend. You will learn our ways soon enough.”
kat on 15 October, 2018
Celia Kus on 22 May, 2015This was amazing!! I wish I had more to read!