Flameseeker (Book 3) (4 page)

Moments later, Omari appeared in the circle. He
briefly scanned the area.

“Come.” Jarial beckoned and headed toward the
heart of the city.

Ghaeldorund’s usual daily bustle had slowed as
night approached. Taverns and inns were beginning to fill, and the growing
sounds of the city’s nightlife filled the air.

Jarial stared straight ahead as he briskly walked
to the inn at which he was staying, the Silver Maiden. He glimpsed the bright yellow
banner ahead, its satin-like material swaying in a passing wind and reflecting
brilliantly from the light of nearby street lanterns.

Opening the door, Jarial was greeted with a blast
of warmth from the inn’s interior. The light inside was dim, creating a cozy,
homey feeling. Few patrons lingered about, and the main room was quiet. The
hearth radiated a comfortable warmth, the red-orange embers glowing and
snapping softly in their downy bed of ash.

Jarial padded up the stairs, which were lined in
plush red carpeting that softened each step he took. He briefly glanced over
his shoulder to check that Omari was still following. Jarial approached the
door to his room and, after uttering the
unlock
spell, quietly opened
it. Conventional keys were useless to him; he felt safer using his own security
mechanisms, which had never failed him.

His familiar, Sable, greeted him with soft meows,
and she wove between his legs, tickling him with her soft black fur. Smiling,
Jarial picked her up.

His room came complete with a small lounging area,
with an emerald-colored couch and matching chair; an ornate rosewood desk near
one of the small green velveteen-curtained windows; two armoires; a clothes
drawer; a storage trunk lining the wall opposite the regal bed that looked big
enough to fit four people; and a floral-embroidered privacy screen, which
occupied another corner near the bed. The wooden floors were decorated with
exotic rugs of various shapes and sizes.

Jarial crossed the room, and paused here and there
to mutter alight the candelabras that sat on the desk, drawer, and bedside
table.

Omari stood in the doorway and gazed at the posh
chamber with awe. “This is quite luxurious, sir.”

“Of course it is,” Jarial said. “I wouldn’t accept
anything less.” He set Sable down, and she scampered to Omari and stared up at
him—or rather at Percival, perched on Omari’s shoulder.

The weasel let out a sharp, warning chirp, but it
seemed to do nothing to discourage the cat.

Omari eyed Sable and tensed, perhaps reacting to
his own familiar’s discomfort. Finally, he placed his hand in front of Percival
and took a step back.

Sable licked her upper lip and watched them
attentively.

Jarial guffawed at Omari and Percival. “Relax, you
two. She just wants to say ‘hi’.”

Percival’s chirps became more aggressive. Finally,
the weasel climbed down his master’s body and confronted Sable. He arched his
supple back and growled fearlessly despite his smaller size.

Sable pawed at the weasel, then sniffed at him cautiously.
She started purring.

Percival cringed, wary of the cat’s actions, then
eased and slinked curiously toward her.

Jarial beckoned Omari over with a tilt of his head
as he patted the backrest of the couch. “Have a seat.”

Ignoring Percival, who was now sitting upright on
his hind legs and peering into Sable’s left ear, Omari set his staff by the
door and hastily made his way to the couch. “Master Glace, if I may ask, why
has the Council not asked you to stay at the Citadel?”

Jarial unpacked his belongings from his bag, along
with his spellbook, which he kept secured on a chain slung across his body
beneath his outer robes. “Because I am not a Councilmember,” he replied. “Not
anymore, anyway.” He shoved aside books and a haphazard stack of used parchment
on the desk and set his spellbook down.

“Yes, but ... You were highly respected—and you still
are. Many consider you a legend.”

Jarial smirked. “Do they, now? How flattering.
Well, to sate your curiosity, I
was
offered accommodations there a few
days after my arrival here, but I politely refused. My place is no longer
amongst them, and I intend to keep it that way.”

“Do you truly hold such contempt for the Council?”

Jarial pursed his lips.
He does not understand.
No one will.
“‘Contempt’ is too strong of a word. I’d been on the Council
for nineteen years. I felt it was time to move on.” He finally took his place
in a chair across from Omari and stared at him intently. “I want to talk to you
about something ... important.”

Omari leaned in.

“You informed the Council about a man you met during
your travels. Kaijin—my former student.” The tip of Jarial’s tongue tasted
somewhat bitter.
Yes, at this point, he is no longer mine.

“Indeed, sir!” Omari replied. “It was Kaijin who sent
me back here after we reached the Pyre. He cast a strange spell—somewhat
reminiscent of a teleportation spell—which sent me and my other companions to
Gryphon’s Pass, just on the outskirts of Ghaeldorund.”

Jarial blinked. “Kaijin did that?”

Omari nodded quickly. “The whole purpose for us going
to the Pyre was for Kaijin to return an orb he had found. It was a druidic
artifact, but it held great power—the essence of the Firelord, himself. I met
Kaijin and his group soon after ...”

Jarial sat back in his chair and listened to
Omari’s tale of adventure and intrigue.
Indeed, Kaijin had become something
far more than I would have ever thought possible. It could very well be that
Kaijin is more powerful than even I am.
The thought made Jarial clench his
jaw, and the remainder of Omari’s story became a dull buzz in his ears.

He was snapped from his thoughts when he felt Sable’s
vibrating body against his legs. He gazed down at his familiar. She purred
contentedly, rubbing herself against him. He smiled at her briefly, then returned
his attention to Omari, who was now speaking in greater detail about his
adventures with Kaijin.

Once he had finished his story, Jarial said, “Do
not speak about any of this to anyone else, do you understand?”

Omari sat up straighter. “Yes, of course, Master
Glace.”

Jarial tapped his chin. “I now realize what I must
do next. I must find Kaijin.”

“What? But why?”

“Because I have some unfinished business.”
And
I now realize I’ve made a grave mistake abandoning him like that.
Jarial
frowned.

“He is at the Pyre, somewhere far to the south and
east in the mountains.”

Jarial nodded and stood. “Then that is where I
will go. And I want you to accompany me.”

Omari stood, as well, and gawked at Jarial. “Me,
sir?”

“Indeed. You will help me navigate to the Pyre,
since you have already been there once before.”

“I do not know how to get there from here—at
least, not without a map.”

“Then we will get a map.”

Omari paled. He opened his mouth to say something
more, but he held back his reply. Instead, he nodded slowly.

Jarial smiled and returned the nod. “Very good.
You are dismissed, then. I will contact you again in a few days, once I’ve
finished my preparations.”

Omari turned to leave, and Percival followed him.
Omari glanced over his shoulder. “Master Glace, if I may ask, what of the
Council?”

Jarial glared at him. “What of it? I am not one of
the Nine anymore, nor will I ever be. I can go wherever I please, do whatever I
please.”
I gave up that title the day I decided to leave the Citadel.

“But—”

“Enough! Leave me, Omari.” Jarial shooed him off
with a flick of his wrist.

After Omari took his staff and left, Jarial
undressed and plopped into bed. Sable leaped up and curled up against his legs,
purring soundly.

Kaijin ...
Jarial stared at the dancing
shadows on the wooden ceiling.
If I were to see you again, would I recognize
you?

... And if you saw me again, would you forgive
me?

IV

Kaijin awoke with a sharp gasp from another dream
about his former master, but a glance around the familiar, orange-lit space of
his bedchamber relaxed him. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was the
second dream he’d had about Master Jarial in the past few days, but he didn’t
understand why it was happening or what it all meant.

Miele stirred from her resting perch, concealed in
the shadows of the ceiling. She flew down and landed beside him on the bed.

“Another bad dream, I think,”
he said
mentally.
“Or maybe I just miss the man too much.”

Miele screeched in response and sent him calmness.

But then he felt a burning heat on his bare chest
and looked down. His necklace throbbed against his skin, a red-orange glow that
pulsed in time to his heartbeat. Kaijin clutched the fiery charm. The heat intensified
and seared his palm, but he refused to let go.

“He abandoned you—left you to die,”
said
the familiar fiery voice in his mind.

Frowning, Kaijin clutched the golden charm more
tightly, ignoring the pain in his hand.
I’ve done what you’ve asked. I
thought you were going to leave me in peace.

“You are naïve, Kaijin Sora.”

For a moment, the charm grew unbearably hot—more
intense than anything he had ever experienced before. Kaijin had no choice but
to let it go.
Divine flames?

The voice sounded annoyed.
“Your life has been
spared. Your powers have been enhanced. Your debt to me is eternal.”

Kaijin gritted his teeth. “Leave me alone.”

“You will never find peace.”

“I said, ‘leave me alone’.”

“The past will always remain.”

“
Leave me alone!
” he yelled.

A sudden knock on the door startled Kaijin. Miele flew
back to her perch in the shadows. The fiery voice exited Kaijin’s mind, leaving
him in momentary silence. The heat from his necklace dissipated instantly,
returning the charm to its natural golden shine.

Another knock came, and a woman’s voice called,
“Kaijin? Kaijin?”

He relaxed, recognizing the voice of Ranaiah, the
high priestess. He smiled at the sweet concern in her soft voice. He
straightened, gathered his composure and responded, “I’m all right, Priestess.”

The door slowly opened a crack, and High Priestess
Ranaiah poked her head inside. Deep concern lingered in her big brown eyes as
she scrutinized Kaijin. Since Kaijin had first met her four days ago, he’d been
fixated on her beauty and elegance. But she was quick to display her power,
authority, and wisdom as she oversaw the duties of the Ignan clerics. She was
unlike any woman Kaijin had met, and she intrigued him.

Ranaiah closed the door behind her and approached
his bed. Kaijin tensed and felt sweat bead on his body, causing the pants he
slept in to stick to him. Though she wore a long, flowing gown of flamboyant
colors and sparkling sequins, Kaijin could still make out the gentle curves of
her hips as she walked.

He wanted to tear his gaze away from her, but he
was too enthralled.
I shouldn’t be staring at her like this. She is a
priestess. I’m being so disrespectful.

She stopped at his bedside, her concern never
lifting. “Kaijin, I heard you shout. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her closeness gave him prickles of excitement. He
inhaled her scent of fire lilies and amber. His cheeks hurt from the broad
smile he couldn’t hide. “Yes, Priestess. I assure you, I’m okay. I just had—”

“Ranaiah,” she corrected, smiling reassuringly at
him.

His heart fluttered. “I ...”

“Please, Kaijin. You don’t have to use such formalities
around me. But your actions are duly noted and appreciated.” She glanced at his
spellbook, which sat atop his bedside table. It was locked—he kept it that way
most of the time—and no one but he could open it. He’d perused certain pages of
his book the night before, memorizing a selection of spells of his choosing
that he would use for his training today.

Ranaiah briefly ran her hand along the worn
leather cover and looked back at him. “You’ve slept all morning. We should
begin the training shortly. Vargas has been growing impatient.”

Kaijin’s smile fell.
What’s with him, anyway?
He’s been acting awfully strange.
“I’m sorry. I will get ready right away.”
He slid out of bed and stepped around her to retrieve his robe slung over his
desk chair. He felt her hand on his shoulder and stopped.

She brought her face close to his but kept her
eyes averted. “If He is speaking to you again, please tell me. How else do you
expect us to help you?”

Her closeness made him gasp softly. His heart pounded
faster. The heat from her face almost burned his cheeks. “Ranaiah, I don’t want
anything to happen to you or anyone else here. I’ve lost too much already.”

She slowly pulled back from him and caressed the
side of his face, her touch softer than silk. “The only thing you’ve lost was the
past. It is time for you to gain—and embrace—the future.” Her hand lingered at
his cheek a short while longer, and then she quietly left the room.

* * *

Ranaiah stood beside Vargas upon a raised platform
several stories high that overlooked Kindling Hall, where Kaijin’s training was
held. The enormous chamber of polished obsidian was designed for the clerics to
train in physical combat, as well as practice their spells. Kaijin stood alone
in the middle of the extensive room, holding a small flame in his hand that
cast a dim light around him. The stone floor held a mosaic pattern of the
Firelord’s holy symbol: a burning flame.

“Let’s begin slowly, Vargas,” Ranaiah said.
“Kaijin has memorized a completely new set of spells this time.”

Vargas regarded her with a frown. Under the pretence
of obeying the will of the Firelord, he’d been harsh with Kaijin, but Ranaiah
was worried that such strenuous training would be damaging for Kaijin in the
long run, and wished to make a more gradual transition for him.

“With all due respect,
Priestess
, Kaijin is
more than capable of a challenge,” Vargas finally said. “How else do you expect
him to adapt to this new way of life?”

“He passed your first two tests just fine, and I
was able to gather the information I required,” Ranaiah said, returning the
frown. “There is no need to push his abilities further, like you did in
yesterday’s training.”

Vargas narrowed his eyes. “You may spare him pain,
Priestess, but Almighty Ignis will not. He must be pushed. I will see to it.”

“We are
not
training him to be a cleric,
Vargas,” Ranaiah said sharply. “What has gotten into you? Only days ago, you
were delighted to have him here. Now, however, you seem utterly repulsed.”

“My ‘feelings’ for him have nothing to do with
this, Priestess. As a Firebrand, he has a power like no other. We
must
test him. I’m sure your family would not take too kindly to your ... soft-heartedness.”

Ranaiah hissed.
How dare he!
“I’ve warned
you before about speaking about my family.”

Vargas smirked. “Of course, Priestess. My apologies.”
He called down at Kaijin, “Let us begin!” He fished a small shard, the color of
blue sapphire, from his belt pouch.

Ranaiah frowned.
A water shard.
The clerics
often used enchanted items for training purposes, but elemental shards were
primarily used for advanced lessons.

Vargas glanced sidelong at Ranaiah. “This time, we
will further test his wits and magical ability. Be ready to probe him,
Priestess.”

She pursed her lips and nodded.
But I will end
this test should I deem it too extreme.

Vargas tossed the shard into the pit. It landed
with a loud, echoing ping just shy of Kaijin’s feet.

* * *

Kaijin examined the blue shard of glass, sensing
that it was enchanted in some way. He took a step away from it and looked up at
Vargas and Ranaiah on the platform.
What is
this
test?

In the few days he’d been at the Pyre, he’d undergone
several peculiar trials of his physical and magical abilities, his wits and his
instincts. Each test seemed more difficult than the last. He had even begun
leaving Miele behind in his quarters, for fear that she might be hurt.

Kaijin heard a light splashing sound and looked
down. He was standing in a pool of water. Grimacing, he lifted one foot out of
the pool and set it onto a drier area next to it where the water had not
reached.
That water wasn’t there before. Where did it come from?
As he
was about to lift his other foot from the pool, the water came to life,
becoming a moving, formless shape that grabbed Kaijin’s foot.

Kaijin gasped. His heart pounded, and his concentration
slipped on the small flame he had summoned in his hand. It went out. He
searched around frantically for a means of escape, finding none.

The water being grew in size, quickly towering
over Kaijin. It pulled Kaijin into its ice-cold body, drenching him. Steam rose
from his necklace, and it lost its usual pulsating glow. He shivered and felt
unable to breathe.

The water creature knocked him backwards with a painful
surge of force to the face. He stumbled but stayed on his feet, rubbing his
face.
I have to do something!
He yanked himself out of the creature’s
grasp, and when he felt the chamber’s dry air, he gasped. He listened for the
fiery voice in his mind, hoping that perhaps Ignis would grant him the power to
overcome the creature, but all was silent.

Kaijin tried to clear his mind and recall the spell
that protected him from the elements he had memorized the night before. “
T
-tueri
elemen—
”

The creature grabbed him again, submerging him for
longer than before. He swallowed a mouthful of water. His spell misfired, and a
bright light flashed around him, then disappeared. Exhaustion seized Kaijin’s mind.
The room spun, and Kaijin was momentarily unsure of where he was.

He felt himself falling to the cold wet ground,
and he dared to take a breath, hoping that he was no longer submerged. He
coughed up water from his lungs, and then struggled back up to his feet.

He knew what he had to do, and he had to do it
fast.
They’re watching....
She
is watching.... I can’t fail.

Kaijin gathered his thoughts and concentrated on another
spell—a binding spell. He fumbled in the belt pouch containing his components
and pulled out a small iron nail.

The pool of water at the being’s base widened as
it glided toward Kaijin. The pool engulfed Kaijin’s feet, and the creature
became a rising mass of cascades surrounding him.

“R
é
prend!”
Kaijin shouted, unfazed.
He held the nail out toward the wall of water, and it turned to dust in his
hand. An amber-hued light shot from his hand and enveloped the water around
him, trapping it in an invisible cage. The creature thrashed about, trying to
escape.

Kaijin studied the creature. He’d never encountered
a water elemental before, but he knew more about them than most people did.
They—and other beings of water and ice—were servants of Ais, the goddess of
frost and Ignis’s sworn enemy.

Kaijin heard the fiery voice speak to him.
“How
dare
you allow that thing to desecrate
my
aurorium, defile
my
priestess!”

Kaijin blinked.
What?
His eyes focused on
the thrashing elemental. Ranaiah floated lifelessly within its body.

His eyes widened.
Ranaiah!

“Get rid of it
now
, or she will remain
dead,”
the voice warned.

Kaijin wasn’t sure whether or not the vision was
real, but he was not about to take any chances. Heat surged through his bones,
rekindling his rage. His vision turned red, and he no longer felt in control of
himself.

This time, instead of resisting, he let the being
possess him.

Kaijin’s fists clenched, powered by the will that
flowed inside him, and the air around him wavered as flames emanated from his
body. The water creature ceased its struggle against the invisible shield, and
the sight of the flames seemed to tame it—perhaps even instill fear in it. The
flames rose to block his view, dwarfing the trapped elemental. His holding
spell shattered, but the creature remained trapped as the heat of the swirling
inferno intensified and turned the flames from orange to white. The ring of
fire closed on the water elemental, and with a violent hiss, the creature
turned to steam and evaporated. The illusion of Ranaiah faded, and the fire immediately
returned to Kaijin’s body where it slowly dimmed until it flickered out.
Kaijin’s vision returned to normal, and he felt his self-control return.

Panting as if he’d run for days, Kaijin fell to
one knee. He glanced around the chamber, but he was alone there once again.
There was not a drop of water on the ground. He felt heat on his chest and
grabbed at it, closing his fingers around his holy symbol, which was pulsating
once again.

* * *

When peace had returned to the chamber, Ranaiah exhaled
in relief.
Thank Ignis, he made it.
It was incredible to watch Kaijin
transform from a simple man to a powerful conductor for his god. His eyes had
glowed with possession, and the flames that surrounded him burned with divine
intensity. She smiled to herself, knowing that he was, indeed, the one she had
been seeking for so long.

She heard Vargas grumbling under his breath, and
she looked at him sidelong.

“Well?” Vargas asked gruffly. “Were you able to
get anything?”