Firebrand (16 page)

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Authors: R.M. Prioleau

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Firebrand
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Kaijin ran, twisting and turning down the winding dark paths, unsure of where he would end up. The alleys were filthy and cluttered, but provided enough cover for him to escape. The panicked tears that burned his eyes eventually ebbed when Kaijin realized the threat was gone. He slowed and caught his breath, but didn’t stop moving. After what seemed like endless hours of trudging through the grim alleys, but was probably only a matter of minutes, Kaijin spotted flickering firelight at the end of an alley. He rushed toward the light with relief. His steps faltered, and he nearly stumbled to the ground when he tripped over something large. Bracing himself against a wall, Kaijin looked frantically around. The shadows of the alley coupled with the blackness of the night sky above fully concealed the object on the ground.

The mixed smell of blood and rotting corpses rose from the area, turning Kaijin’s stomach. The scent of something familiar beneath the unpleasant stench also hit his nose. Sweat, textiles, baked bread—elements that sparked Kaijin’s memories of home. Kaijin held his hand out in front of him, slightly cupped, and conjured a small flame in his palm. The firelight cast a fair amount of illumination. Enough for him to notice what lay at his feet.

It was a body—a man’s corpse that had been cut in half. The man sprawled face-down, arms curled around him as though he had been protecting something underneath.

Kaijin cupped his hand over his nose and mouth in a weak attempt to suppress the rancid odor. Though the sight disturbed him, he needed to know what was beneath the body. Carefully, Kaijin rolled the corpse over with his boot. Holding his flaming hand close, Kaijin inspected the grisly scene.

His eyes widened in horror.

“P ... Papa?”

The lower half of Ramon’s body appeared as if something had been eating it. His deathly-white skin was devoid of any blood. A curdling green liquid pooling on the ground around the corpse seemed to be the source of the eye-watering stink.

Kaijin reached out to touch his father’s pockmarked face and inadvertently smeared dirt from his fingers on the man’s cheek. Beneath Ramon’s body was another. She wore what appeared to have once been a white dress, now reduced to tatters of bloody, dirty fabric. She lay on her belly, locks of her auburn hair draping across her face.

Kaijin extended his trembling hand to gently brush away stray strands of silken hair from her face. He gazed upon the wreck of what had been his beautiful mother.

“Even in death, he protected her.” Kaijin gnawed at his bottom lip, attempting to hold back the tears in his burning eyes.

Elianee’s face was untouched, but the rest of her body was mutilated beyond recognition. There was a gaping hole in her chest where her blood had been drained and innards ripped out. The same, foul-smelling green substance pooled around her corpse.

Kaijin sank to his knees, feeling the strength in his body recede. His vision wavered to grey and crimson.
This isn’t happening ... This can’t be happening!
He felt the first tear roll down his cheek and drop into his lap. He extinguished the flame in his hand, leaving him in total darkness once more. He was getting light-headed. The firelight at the end of the alley seemed to call out to him. In desperation, Kaijin crawled away from his parents’ carcasses, trying not to look back.

He emerged from the alley and realized he was in the marketplace district—or what was left of it. The heart of the once-flourishing district was devoid of life and reduced to smoldering rubble. The bodies of victims were gathered into heaps. Kaijin flinched at the sounds of battle in the distance. After staggering back to his feet, He maneuvered through the bloody streets and followed the noise. Some of the ruined buildings were still ablaze.

Why? Why?
Kaijin couldn’t stop shivering. The holy symbol around his neck burned his chest in response to his mental pain. He gasped, grabbed the charm, and he let his mind drift. He heard an unknown, but familiar voice.

“You knew this would happen, eventually.”

“No. Not now.” Kaijin seethed, holding his head. “Leave me alone!” He severed the brief trance by drawing his eyes away from the flames. Once he felt in control of his body again, Kaijin continued his slow trek through the streets.

The flames crackled in his mind.
“Their deaths are your fault, Kaijin Sora. You will be a wanted man, hunted down and killed like an animal.”

“No! Stop it! It is not my fault! I am not responsible for these foul acts!”

“Then prove it.”

Kaijin’s heart raced, and his breathing staggered. He clutched the holy symbol, tempted to rip it from around his neck, but something prevented him. Heat emanated from the charm and seared his hand the more he fought against the unseen force. The phenomenon startled him. He knew that he had acquired an immunity to fire after enduring years of self-inflicted burns as a child. “Who are you?” Kaijin demanded, staring up at the sky. “What are you?”

The continuous berating sound of crackling flames was the only response. Frustrated, Kaijin hastened his staggered gait in search of the only person he knew could help him.

VIII
 

With his body concealed under an ethereal shroud, Jarial searched the city. Arriving at the central plaza, which appeared to be the heart of the chaos, he discovered a cluster of undead. The creatures pounded relentlessly at an invisible wall that protected Xavorin. Sitting hunched over with his knees drawn to his chest, Xavorin gazed helplessly at the commotion.

Jarial entered the area unseen by the surrounding mass of creatures. He approached Xavorin and closely examined him.

The ailing man appeared to have lost all connection with his own soul. His eyes were dull as if he were a mindless corpse.

Jarial scowled.
Why, Xavorin?
Why did you do this to yourself?
He lowered his head and concentrated, attempting to project a silent message in the diseased mage’s mind.

Xavorin jumped as if awakening from a horrible dream. His eyes darted around the area nervously. His frantic actions drew suspicion from the undead. They clawed and battered the invisible shield. Xavorin bit his lower lip when he saw no one.

“You realize I cannot allow you to live,”
Jarial spoke telepathically. He stared at his old friend through saddened eyes.
“You have already destroyed yourself by treading this dark path. You have destroyed this city and claimed many lives.”

Xavorin held his head and groaned. It appeared Jarial’s mental intrusion was working as intended. Xavorin stared ahead of him, unable to locate Jarial. “No. I didn’t want to come back. They made me. You can’t do this to me, Jarial!”

The undead creatures’ violent thrashing escalated.

Xavorin scowled at the creatures and pounded back on the invisible wall with his fist in a weak attempt to frighten them away. “Enough!”

Xavorin’s sharp command startled the monsters, prompting them to withdraw a modest distance from the invisible shield.

Jarial arched a brow.
“They made you? It seems to me that you are in control of them.”

“Things are not what they seem, Jarial,” Xavorin replied bitterly. “You of all people should know that. They are here because of me. They are always searching for me. I do not tell them to fight and kill. These spirits are persistent—restless. They will stop at nothing to reach their goal. They are attracted to my powers and revere me as some sort of god. My presence summons them from the plane of death and brings them to the land of the living. I do not tell them to come here—all I want is to be left alone. I just ... I want to live and die alone.”

“I know how the process works. You seem to be clinging to the last bit of your sanity.”

“I asked you, Jarial. I begged you to help me!”

Jarial shook his head.
“I once considered you a friend, Xavorin, but you’ve changed over the years. I don’t know who you are, anymore. You betrayed me at the Citadel after I helped you realize your own power. You abused that power for your own selfishness. Now you refuse to take responsibility for your actions.”

“I did not do this!” Xavorin shouted, startling the undead.


You knew necromancy was forbidden, yet you continued to sate those curiosities.”
Jarial’s gaze lowered solemnly.
“Too many people died today. It’s time to end this, Xavorin. It’s time for you to rest.”

“You don’t believe me.” Xavorin’s voice quivered. “You, Jarial Glace! The only man I’ve ever trusted!”

“My trust in you was lost the day you decided to become a necromancer.”
Jarial paused at the nearby sound of screaming. He immediately recognized the deep despair in the familiar voice.

The commotion startled Xavorin and the undead. In unison, their eyes searched for the source of the sound.

 

*  *  *

 

Kaijin’s search seemed endless. He was unable to shed another tear. All around him were the smoldering remains of the life that had once flourished in the grand city. He kept his eyes focused ahead, not yet giving up hope that his master was not among the slain. After leaving the marketplace district, Kaijin neared the plaza and soon found a dead end.

Amid the rubble obstructing the street, Kaijin discovered a young man fighting off the shambling, reanimated corpse of a guard. The young man’s chainmail and tabard in the colors of the city guard were heavily stained with blood. He fought relentlessly against the monster.

A survivor!
Kaijin rushed to the scene. He balled his fists, readying a spell to dispatch the creature.

With two hands, the man swung his broadsword over his head just as the creature thrust with its halberd.

“Watch out!” Kaijin shouted to the stranger, his hands igniting. He ran faster.

The young man focused on the creature again. He gasped as something skewered his chest. Eyes widening, he slouched. The dead weight of his arms sent his broadsword downward across the back of the creature’s head, slicing it off. The creature’s body collapsed in a sea of blackened, curdling blood.

Kaijin extinguished the fire in his hands and rushed to the young man’s side. “By the gods! Hold on, sir! I’ll get you to—!” He blinked, recognizing the young man. His voice weakened. “Rorick!” Kaijin’s voice seemed only audible to his own ears. Not having seen his brother for so long, Kaijin noted just how much the boy had grown into a strong, handsome young man of seventeen.

Rorick’s glazed eyes met Kaijin’s in recognition. Blood poured from his mouth as he tried to speak. “W ... Why ... did you ... come ... back?”

Kaijin felt a lump in his throat. He tried his hardest to hold back tears, but it was proving more difficult the longer he took in his brother. “I came to see you, Rorick. I came to see our parents. I wanted to make sure you were safe. Come on. I’m going to get you to a healer.” He tried to pick Rorick up in his arms.

Rorick’s body barely budged. He maintained a death grip on his sword. “At least ... I was able to keep Viridis safe....” Rorick’s eyes fluttered.

Kaijin blinked. “Viridis?”

Something small rustled from beneath the bloody tabard. Kaijin lifted the cloth, and a lizard poked its head out. Blood stained its green scales, but it seemed otherwise unharmed.

Kaijin gasped. “This lizard is yours?”

Rorick opened his mouth to reply. He died with his eyes open. Bloody tears ran down the sides of his sallow face.

“Rorick!” Kaijin ran his trembling hand over his brother’s still boyish face. Some of the blood and dirt caked on Rorick’s face smeared Kaijin’s hand. “Damn it all! Why?” Kaijin gritted his teeth and hissed. The anger in his voice rose. “You should never have left! I told you not to go!”

The lizard crawled up Kaijin’s arm, settled on his shoulder, and bobbed its tiny head up and down.

Frowning, Kaijin plucked the creature off his shoulder and nestled it safely in his haversack. “Stay in there.”

The lizard didn’t resist Kaijin’s handling and remained snugged in the container’s dark confines.

Another shiver ran down Kaijin’s back as he stared helplessly at the terrifying sight. He felt vomit rise at the sight and smell of the lingering death. His mind was jumbled, unable to concentrate.

“Do you see what your hesitation has cost you?”
The fiery crackle of the unknown voice jeered at Kaijin.

Kaijin’s eyes grew heavy. His body was touched with dizziness. A fever came over him, and soared at an alarming rate.

“Look at you, Kaijin Sora.”
the unseen voice continued. “
Pathetic. Weak.”

Kaijin was unable to erase the disturbing images of his family from his mind. His body jerked, and he cupped his hand over his mouth. He could feel the contents of his unsettled stomach rising.

“You are responsible for this destruction. You, who cannot even control his own power. You are a failure.”

Kaijin snapped. The bile that stung his throat subsided, and sickness was replaced with rage. The fever remained, however, and only contributed to Kaijin’s blinding fury.

“Get out of my head!” Kaijin screamed wildly at the nothingness around him. “Leave me alone!”

“They are all dead because of you. You have nothing left to fight for.”

“I said, ‘leave me alone!’” Kaijin’s screams permeated the streets and the entire plaza. A faint, fiery glow suddenly emanated from him. He saw an image of the world burning in a red inferno. The holy symbol around his neck pulsated, unified with his throbbing heartbeat. The heat from the charm intensified and sizzled against his chest.

Kaijin left his brother’s corpse and staggered in the general direction of the central plaza, calling out to his master. His troubled voice carried throughout the area, drawing the attention of the undead surrounding Xavorin’s invisible shield.

Kaijin narrowed his fiery eyes in acknowledgement of the creatures before turning to Xavorin. Having not seen the sickly man in ten years, Kaijin took a moment to study him from afar. With Jarial nowhere to be seen, Kaijin proceeded to confront the necromancer.

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