Suriax (11 page)

Without preamble, they began to fight. For
several long minutes the only sounds to be heard in the stadium
were grunts at well placed punches, feet slapping against the
ground, fists hitting flesh and the even sounds of their breathing.
Even the vendors fell silent. Everyone sat in anticipation of who
would draw first blood.

Maerishka heard a knock at the door of her
balcony and motioned for her attendants to answer it. They looked
at each other uncertainly, neither wanting to miss a moment of this
fight. At the second knock, a young female attendant lost the
battle of wills and begrudgingly answered the door, admitting King
Alvexton. Maerishka bowed slightly and gestured for him to join
her.

“Your Highness, you look lov …. ly.”
Alvexton’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the flame markings
going up the right of Maerishka’s neck and face. Purposefully, she
handed him her marked hand. To his credit, he took it, placing a
kiss directly on one of the flame marks.

“Your Highness,” she returned in kind,
speaking softly to avoid distracting people from the fight. “I’m
pleased you could make it tonight.”

“I missed you at the celebrations the past
two days.”

Maerishka smiled apologetically. The first
day after her pact was made, she could barely move from the pain.
Once that subsided, she felt stronger, more energetic, but she
still did not know what to do about her markings. What, if anything
should she reveal to her subjects? Should she hide them from her
visitors? Royals and lords were notoriously easy to spook when
other leaders gained a substantial amount of power. Blessing from a
god would definitely fall into that category. She did not want to
scare any of her trade partners away or provoke a fearful attack.
And if anyone found out why she made her bargain, it could mean the
end of her reign. She needed to handle this situation carefully to
avoid unwanted consequences. Finally, she opted to wear them
proudly. Should anyone have the guts to question her about them,
she would say they were a blessing from Venerith. That was all
anyone needed to know. If she was too afraid to show the markings
she did not deserve to have them. “Are you familiar at all with the
Tournament of Fire?” she asked.

“I’ve heard of it of course, but I’ve never
had the pleasure to witness it. Is it true it only comes around
once a decade?”

“That is correct, however, we do hold many
other competitions and smaller tournaments regularly. They are
usually only for locals. The Tournament of Fire invites people from
all over the continent to participate. Winning is a very high
honor.”

The crowd cheered and Maerishka turned her
attention back to the match. Zanden was performing very well. She
would need to keep her eye on him.

* * *

“Just sit tight. We will be on the way,
soon.” The merchant dropped the blanket covering the produce on his
wagon, leaving Thomas, Marcy and Frex in darkness. The wagon was
specially designed for transporting restricted items. It had a
false bottom with a hidden compartment roughly six feet long by
five feet wide. It was only deep enough to allow a person to lie
flat and to fit all three of them, Marcy had to lie halfway on top
of Thomas, not that either of them really minded. There were narrow
slits cut for air holes spread throughout, though most were covered
by the produce and blanket. A couple along the sides allowed them
sporadic views of people walking by.

They waited in silence for what felt like
hours. Just when Marcy was about to fall asleep from boredom, the
wagon would jar them by roughly rolling over the uneven, graveled
road. Hinges and tools clanged loudly in their ears. Whenever that
happened, Thomas would tighten his arms around her, bracing them
both against the movement. Instinctively, she would reach an arm
out to do the same for Frex. For his age, he handled the rough
journey well, without complaint. After a few stops and starts, the
wagon settled into an even pace. She was about to fall back to
sleep when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Thomas motioned silently
to the air slot by his head and grinned. Scooting up a few inches,
Marcy squinted to look through the narrow opening. Purple and pink
covered the sky. It was sunset. Looking back at Thomas, their faces
barely an inch apart, she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She
looked back out at the sunset until all the colors faded into
darkness. Then she sighed and laid her head on Thomas’ chest,
letting herself sleep at last.

* * *

Maerishka wiped the sweat from her brow,
grabbing a fan to cool off. The stadium wasn’t usually so warm,
especially not at night. The roof was open to the sky, allowing in
a breeze. She saw the flags wave, but the wind did not have any
effect on her. Looking around, she noticed no one else seemed
bothered by the temperature. They were all focused on the
exhibition match still raging between Zanden and Sardon. It was
then she realized it was not coming from outside. The heat was
coming from inside her. Struggling to retain her composure she
moved to stand, knocking over a glass of water in the process.
Alvexton and the guards looked at her questionably. “I’m afraid
I’ve had a bit too much excitement for the night. There is still so
much to do tomorrow to prepare for the final royal gala. But I’ve
had a lovely time with you, tonight.”

“Of course, I understand completely” Alvexton
replied. “I as well have enjoyed your company. I look forward to
seeing you tomorrow.” Bowing, he took his leave.

Maerishka dismissed her guards and retreated
to her private chamber adjoining the balcony. Opulent, even by
royal standards, it held many marvels. The stadium was built with
strong magic out of three hundred foot wide tree. The walls and
doors were all part of the tree that were manipulated to curve
around and grow in such a way to create hollow spaces for rooms.
Most were simple, yet still awe inspiring. Her room was a step
above all that. The wood of the tree curved to create her
furniture. The tables, chairs and bed were all part of the tree.
Moss and leaves formed cushions and the mattress. A moss carpet
covered the floor, and leaves fanned out around a small sky light.
Flowers decorated the room, adding their fragrance and beauty to
complete the scene.

But she didn’t notice any of that, now. The
burning was a raging inferno, worse than anything she imagined,
even after her encounter with the statue. Through her pain, she
sensed a presence behind her. A man, no not a man, but Venerith
himself stepped out of the shadows. Staggering in height, his horns
brushed against the fifteen foot ceiling. Seeing his statue did
nothing to prepare her for seeing him in person. Thick horns curled
from behind his head around above his eyes. Two long horns
protruded from his chin, surrounded by three shorter ones on either
side. Together, they formed a sharp bone beard. In fact, all the
hair on his face was formed from bone. His eyebrows were a series
of small spikes and a row of short horns ran along the center of
his head. Venerith’s skin was a glossy black. It was so black, if
one looked at it too long, you could imagine other colors lost
within the darkness. He wore a blue leather tunic with white
accents forming flames across the surface. A strap holding scrolls
as one may carry knives crossed over his chest and around his back.
Large clawed hands carried a larger scroll and a weapon that
resembled a scepter. It was actually a large mace with a shaft the
length of a staff. The top held an ornate globe of swirling colors
lost in a black field of darkness. The setting for the globe was
three curved blades. Blue flames ran up the length of the otherwise
black shaft. It was as beautiful as it was dangerous. Where he
walked, smoke appeared, leaving scorch marks on the floor. A faint
aura of fire surrounded him without obscuring his appearance or
burning the scrolls. His eyes were bright blue glowing orbs of
light. It was impossible to tell where he looked, though she could
feel the focus of his attention completely on her. He was beautiful
and terrifying in his intensity.

She wondered, as she writhed in agony, what
she did to displease him. Why was he punishing her like this? Maybe
he changed his mind and was canceling their agreement. Maybe he did
not think her worthy of his blessings. Finally, unable and afraid
to vocalize all her questions and fears, she spoke the only word
she could think to speak. “Why?”

He grinned and squatted down beside her.
“Power doesn’t come without a price.” He touched her chin and she
went blind from the pain. When her vision returned, she almost
wished it hadn’t. Flames surrounded her entire body. Heat infused
her eyeballs, the hairs on her head, even her toe nails burned. It
was as if her body was made of fire and not skin and blood and
muscle. The fire was her strength. Her blood was molten heat. Her
skin was just the visible edge of the flame. The flames ebbed and
flowed with her breaths. She was fire. Slowly, the flames pulled
back into her skin, the heat simmering beneath the surface. Whether
the heat subsided or her tolerance of it was increased, she did not
know, but the pain lessened, as well. Finally, she felt the pain
ease away entirely. Feeling stronger than ever before, she held out
her hands and called the flames to her. They came at once. This
time, she did not burn. They grew and dissipated at her command.
Excitement filled her. This was power unlike any she dared hope
for. Surely no one could ever challenge her, now. She was
invincible.

A scream sounded outside. She ignored it, but
it was followed by others. Standing, she went to the balcony. In
the stands and the floor of the stadium, people doubled over in
pain. One by one, they were surrounded by flames. Her eyes teared,
her body shook in fury. This wasn’t fair. She was the one who made
the bargain. She and she alone was the one who should have received
Venerith’s blessing.

Venerith walked up behind her and put a
clawed hand casually on her shoulder. “Now, now, you didn’t think
you were special, did you?” He chuckled and faded back into the
shadows.

Chapter 6

The grass was cool on her bare feet. Mirerien
pulled back on her bow and let the arrow fly. The arrow wobbled
from the force with which it hit the target. She closed her eyes
and felt the cool night air blow across her cheek.

“You don’t usually train so late.” Collin
stepped out from behind the weapon’s shed and sat on a raised tree
root. Casually, he began to sharpen his blade.

“This has been an unusual day.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Mirerien put her bow
down sat beside him on the root.

“That a Flame Guardsman broke into your room
and claims to be your long lost brother.”

“I see the gossips are working overtime.”

“So it isn’t true?”

“No, your source is correct. He has been
living in Suriax with an uncle we thought dead.”

“So you got a brother and an uncle all in one
day. That is incredible.”

The sounds of night insects filled the quiet
training yard. Mirerien dangled a foot down to rub against the
grass. Moonlight beamed down and cast a subtle blue hue on
everything. Without thinking she asked the question paramount on
her mind. “Do you think I am cold?” The moment the words left her
mouth, she regretted them. Collin looked taken aback by the
question. “Never mind.” Standing, she grabbed her bow and took her
stance.

“Your shoulders are too high. You need to
relax them.” Collin put his hands around her shoulders and rubbed
them until they loosened up. “Why do you think you are cold?”

“I don’t know how I should feel.”

“You should feel how you feel.”

Mirerien turned to face him, not as
uncomfortable by the intimacy of their proximity as she thought she
would be. “I want to smile.”

Collin laughed. “Then smile. It’s not that
hard.”

“Pielere says I smile more when I am with
you.” Collin’s face grew serious, his stare intense. She thought
they might kiss, but movement caught her eye and ended the moment.
Bright blue streaks of light shot through the sky. Most disappeared
far off into the distance, but a few did not. Several hit the
palace. Then she heard the screams.

* * *

The sound of yelling, both excited and
fearful, awoke Kern from his dreamless sleep. Stumbling to the
hall, he had to jump back into his room to avoid being hit by
people running past his door. There was a dim, blue glow on
everything, blue light shining in through the windows, each one
surrounded by frantic people trying to get a look. Kern didn’t
bother stopping, instead he headed for the courtyard on the second
floor balcony of the palace. Absentmindedly, he noticed the other
people already out there, but he couldn’t have said who they were.
His attention was focused on the sky. Large balls of blue, white
and black fire burned through the air, landing squarely on the
shores of Suriax. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see much, but
it looked as though the entire city was on fire. Smaller fires
dotted Aleria, most confined to the Market Square shared with
Suriax. He worried for his uncle. Thomas and Marcy were to travel
across the border around nightfall. Assuming everything went as
planned they should be safe in Aleria by now. As soon as he retuned
to his room, he would get the ring and contact them again to be
sure.

As he watched, a burning sensation began in
his belly, building, spreading throughout his body until he felt
sure he was on fire. He was vaguely aware of crying out. His vision
turned to white, blinded by an impossibly bright light. The burning
increased to levels he hadn’t believed possible. A small spot in
his vision cleared. Looking down at his hands, he found them
covered in blue flames.