Land of the Fey » Part One

1. Part One / Chapter One

Razzan lay on his death bed. He knew he was dying. His healer knew he was dying. The Capitan of his guard knew he was dying. Yet, none of them would admit it to him except his wife. She seemed pleased he was dying and that only confirmed his worst fears. Fears that had been planted sixteen years ago and caused him to commit the one rash act in his life he regretted. But there was no taking it back now, he was dying and all he could do was attempt to finally set the record straight. The drought Airchte gave him for pain was muddling his thoughts but there was one memory it could not muddle. One memory that kept forcing it’s way to the surface of his mind and demanding attention. It was the day she came into his life:

White Space

Dusk was falling on the keep, another day had passed and the Wind King had not been found. His own Riders were out looking for him, putting their own lives in jeopardy. Kappan had impressed on his youngest son this was a very important meeting and all the Four needed be present to preserve the balance in the world. The serfs were coming in for the night to sleep in safety. Many of the outer farms had been burned all ready and the holders taken or killed. No one knew what their opponents wanted, not just yet.

Razzan and Tzaskela had been coming from the chapel to pray for the safe delivery of their son in the coming weeks and the quick recovery of the Wind King so the Mages could be put to rest quickly when his Capitan thundered into the Keep with full disregard for the bustling ward. The Rider pulled up short in front of the stables and called for the Laird.

“My lord, Queen Parya is now missing. The Wind Folk fear her dead along with the child she carries. The Riders and Runners she rode with are all harmed or dead, but neither she nor her Runner is among the fallen. The most of my men are helping them back to their bridge. I know I would want the help back if I were stuck in the Below Lands.”

The words hit Razzan hard. A woman out in these times, heavy with child and helpless, was not something he wanted to worry about, but it seemed he had little choice in the matter. “Have your men looked for her thoroughly? Her child is the Wind King’s only heir.”

“We have my lord. There were no tracks, no signs of a struggle, nothing. It was as if she disappeared. Even her own people said so.” Thrat told him. The man would not lie even to save his own life, so it must be the truth. It was about then he heard a woman singing off key and loudly:

“The Laird went’a wenching one bonny night in Tzusor. Woke up a’wedded to an alluring whore. He tried to run and he tried to hide, but her seven brothers saw that he kept his bride.”

Prince Razzan turned slowly. He had not heard that particular tune since the night he brought his wife home to his parents. His cousin wrote it, and only a few people knew it. As far as he knew, Tzaskela had never heard it.

“Who are you?” Razzan demanded of the woman on horseback.

“I be bringin’ ye a bairn, My lord.” The woman sat the horse regally. “Horseflesh for ye stable. Ifen ye be buyin. Or do ye fear she be me, the lassie whom ye seek but canna’ find?”

“She’s nude, Razzan.” Tzaskela whispered, “and pregnant.”

“Always one for stating the obvious my dear,” he kissed her cheek and touched the swell of her abdomen. Then he turned to the moon struck women on the Runner’s back. “Bringing me a bairn, says you? Where did you steal the horses?”

“Ach, me no steal these beasties. This whelp’s sire handed ‘em over all nice like. Wanted the wee one raised proper he said an’ he didna be trusten me to do it.”

“And if I say they are stolen?”

“I be sayen ye be daft. The wench followed without lead, ye call that stolen?”

Razzan listened to her speech and nodded. “Well then, if you stole them some one will be coming to claim them. You can stay until they are claimed or until you are able to move on.”

Tzaskela gasped. “I do not want that – mad woman in my home. She may try to harm me or the lads when they are born.” Razzan looked torn between pleasing his wife and doing the right thing.

“The wench be foaling soon. Methinks a place in the stables would suffice.”

Razzan nodded in agreement. It was fair, and both would be happy. He then ordered Capitan Thrat to give the woman the largest stall at the end for her and her mare, and the smaller stall next to it for the stallion, but Pya leads both Runners into the large stall with her. That night a maid from the main keep brought down clothing for Pya, sack dresses they were as she was so far gone in her pregnancy nothing much else would fit properly, but she scorned them, preferring to go nude even though it caused the Riders no end of trouble.

White Space

“My lord, I protest.” The healer stood by Razzan’s bed. “You are hurt and the wound must stay clean. Those boys – they carry vermin from the horses and hounds.”

“Then have them bathe, Airchte, but I will see them today if I have to go to them.”

“Yes, my lord.” Airchte bowed and left the sick room. Razzan tried to sit up and pain ripped through him. He knew he would not be carrying out his threat, he only hoped Airchte did not know he could not carry it out.

He must not have, or thought he would have tried anyway just to prove he could because a short time later, Airchte returned with Aen and Erel both fresh scrubbed and in clean livery, something they never wore.

“I hope you did not give him too hard a time about bathing.”

“Nay, my lord, mam insisted on daily washing when she was with us, but here, if you do not mind my saying so, the men tend to leave us alone if we do not wash well and keep to each other.” Aen blushed in the telling.

“Has that been a problem?”

“Not one we have not been able to handle, but we sleep clean, my lord.” Erel said. “However, you have not brought us here to discuss our bathing habits?”

Razzan laughed, then grabbed his abdomen where it was bound. Blood seeped from the wound.

“I think I may die from this wounding.” Razzan frowned. “And if I do, then you two are not safe here.”

“I do not understand.” Aen looked at Erel, then at Razzan. “Why would we not be safe here?”

“Aen, son…” Razzan choked up some blood and spittle. “you are like a son to me, both of you are, I was there when you were born when your own father could not be. That was a strange time. There was a bloody moon and that never bodes well for births except for… well never mind that. Anyway, Lady Tzaskela delivered Kaben and the sacrifice under that bloody moon. I was there as I should be to witness his birth, the entry of the first born into the world is almost a sacred act for many people, especially ours. There are so many rituals to be observed. The midwife handed Kaben to me to acknowledge as my heir, and I did. Then I handed him to his mother to nurse, but she handed him off to a wet nurse. I can’t explain how that made me feel. It was like she were rejecting a part of me, it was part of the ritual. It didn’t matter if after she gave Kaben to a hundred different nurses to feed, that first feeding should have been from her breast.” He shook his head. “Then there was the sacrifice. I wrapped the infant in a white cloth and headed to the chapel. I tried so hard not to look at him and know he was just as much my son as Kaben. But I could not do it. He was just as perfect, just as mine. I was in agony, but fate intervened. Do you understand? The moon protects her children, even those who…” Razzan stopped again. “What’s the matter with me? I seem to be rambling.” He wiped his eyes.

“You do not need to explain your actions to us Laird Razzan, we accept our lot in life. Save your strength for the important people.” Erel told him.

“But I do, I do. This concerns you, and it is important. Very important. I had the sacrifice in my arms, on the way to the chapel when one of the stable boys came running out of the stables yelling for the midwife. Well, I knew that there were two horses in that stall with Pya who were not going to be happy with a stranger coming in touching their mistress. Well I was wrong, there were four Runners in that stall, the mare had delivered and recently. Pya screamed, and having just gone through birthing with Tzaskela, I knew pretty much what to expect, so I went in thinking only to help her. I still had the sacrifice with me, and there was no place safe to put him. So I carried him in the stall with me. The stallion let me pass, but when Thrat tried to come in, he was barred. I lay the sacrifice down on the straw wrapped in his cloth, and I set about assisting Pya. When the midwife finally showed up, the stallion, Huet would not let her in so she talked me through delivering Pya’s sons.” Razzan looked at the two of them. “Once she was delivered of the babes, she presented them to her Runner, Noni. I thought it a strange thing to do, but like I said, we all have our rituals. After Noni accepted each of you, Pya nursed you. I took the sacrifice and left.”

Aen watched him and had been listening carefully. “What happened to the other baby?”

Razzan looked at him. “Pray you will never have to find out, Aen. There are so many things I have not the time to explain. If only you were older this would come more easily, but you still need guidance. There are things afoot here that I can not even begin to explain. Promise me if I die you will get on your Runners and Ride for the desert as fast as they will take you.”

“On Kaos and Inval?” Erel asked.

“Yes, Erel, Kaos and Inval have Runner blood in them; their dam was a Runner.”

“But if their dam was a Runner that means… mam was a Rider?” Aen asked.

“It’s possible.” Razzan agreed. He did not want to tell them too much, they had to do this together.

“But we are not Riders.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Erel.” Razzan told the dark headed youth at his side. “Most Riders do not like people to know they are Riders. They look like normal people, like you and me, and Aen. Half of my army is Riders, can you choose the ones who are?” Erel shook his head. “One day you will be able to. Will you promise me about the desert?”

“I will, my lord.” Erel told him, then they both looked to Aen who had been staring at the fire in the pit.

“I do not know.” Aen looked away from the fire and at Laird Razzan, “My lord, you will die from this wound, you know that do you not?”

“Yes, Aen. I saw it, just as you did just now.”

“Why do I see things in the fire?” Aen asked his voice quiet.

“Oh hush, Aen, you’re going to have everyone really thinking you’re daft if you keep it up.”

“Erel, I know he’s not daft. Come here, sit down.” Erel sat in along the edge of the bed where he was told. “Now close your eyes and concentrate on a single flame like a candle burning in your mind, is it there?”

“Nay, my lord. There be naught a thing behind me lids but me eyes.”

“Practice it, one day you will need it to be there. Aen, can you see the flame with your eyes closed?”

Aen closed his eyes. With a bit of concentration a single flame appeared in his mind’s eye. “Aye. There be a flame there.”

“Pass through it.” Razzan encouraged him.

Aen was used to the strangest exercises put forth by their mam, so he allowed the flame to grow until he could step through it, but he could not quite pass. (POV Switch)

“I can not, my lord, something blocks it.”

“I block it. So long as I live you will not be able to pass the flame. The minute I die, you become vulnerable. That is why you must flee. Promise me you will go.”

“I promise, but I do not like it.”

Razzan smiled at them. “I’ll have orders written up for you so you have a reason to be leaving in the next day or two. I doubt I survive that long.”

“So do I, Laird Razzan, and for that I am sorry.”

“It was my pleasure, Aen.”

Aen and Erel made their way back to the stables and began to pack.

White space

After the two boys left Razzan remembered the rest of that night. The night he did the only thing in his life he ever regretted, although he knew his father did it for him. He stared into the fire and remembered, as it was the only witness to his falsehood, and would be until the day he died, and that would be soon, very soon:

Razzan took a cloth and wrapped the child, his child, his son, and tried not to look at him. It would do no good to bond with this one. He would be dead with the dawn.

Laird Razzan had no heart to murder his own son, but he had to do it to protect the other one. The inoculation was the most important ceremony of a Fire Laird’s life and he was never present for it.

Thrat followed Razzan from the stables to the chapel. He knew this would be hard on his friend and Laird. The Elders had gathered and the chants and began. The alter had been laid out with the circle of fire. The sacrifice was laid in the center of the alter, he began to squall again and Razzan almost stopped.

“You must continue, Razzan.” Thrat told him. “You must.”

“I can not.”

“He is the sacrifice. If you do not do this now then your son will die when you die. He will die at my hand or the hand of the one who comes after me, and I do not want that, do you?”

“No, I do not.”

“Then do it.” Razzan nodded. He knew Thrat was right. He held his hand over the horse woman’s son and incanted the words that would protect his twin against the fire and allow their shared soul access to the eternal flame when the guardianship passed. The small body squalled in protest then burst into flames. Inside the chapel a strong wind gusted and spread the ashes before they could be gathered for examination and safe keeping.

When it was over and the elders gone Razzan knelt at the alter and prayed for guidance that he had done the right thing for his people as their laird.

With his eyes still wet from tears he was unable to shed sixteen years ago flooding out this night, Razzan called for Thrat.

Capitan Thrat had been waiting close enough to hear his Laird’s call without being about to overhear the conversation he held with the various members of his family and staff over the past hours. The dampness around Razzan’s eyes surprised Thrat slightly. His Laird had only wept after Kaben left him, but it was not unusual for a father to weep for a son who was about to come into his own powers. However, Thrat could not understand why Razzan would weep for two horse boys he apprenticed when not even his daughters tears phased him so.

“Thrat, I am sending Aen and Erel after some merchandise I purchased from Ozra. We agreed on the price to be paid in gold upon delivery. Thrat, give the boys money from the treasury, not promise notes, and give them extra for expenses, it is a very long trip between here and there.”

“My lord, surely a pair of Riders would be better to send on such a dangerous journey with so much money.” Thrat argued with Razzan. “There are several who would jump at the chance to go.”

“Aen and Erel are to go.” Razzan coughed up some more blood. “And they are to be gone by morning.” He told Thrat.

“Yes, my lord, they will be gone by morning.” He bowed his head and backed out of the room. Razzan did not often order him about, and when he did it was often important. Thrat wondered what was so important about this time. He watched those two boys grow up and the best he could figure there was nothing special about them. Their mother had been a horse woman who gave birth in the stables. She then stayed on, working for the Laird until the boys were old enough to apprentice out right, then she left. That had been four years ago. They had lived at the keep under the stable master’s care and had not caused any one any trouble from the time they entered the keep. They attended religious services on holy days and stayed out of the chapel all other times, as it should be for non-Riders. They stayed to their selves and endured Kaben’s teasing, even though they were more muscular from working most of their lives.

After Thrat left Razzan he went to the treasury and withdrew the gold for the purchase the boys was to make then he headed down to the stables to speak to his second. Killarney accepted his orders to follow the two boys until they reached their destination then he was to report back. He could take another Rider with him, and he chose to take Sari. They packed for a long trip then bedded down, as they did not know their destination. However they thought it would be easy to track two horse boys where ever they were going.

White space

The next morning Aen and Erel woke before dawn to finish their preparations to leave for the last time. Laird Razzan made it clear to them they would not be coming back. Just before sunrise Thrat brought them their orders and some provisions. This was a new thing and they didn’t know what to make of it, but they took it, slightly perplexed. Thrat noted their confusion, as he had wondered on it himself. He did make note that they were leaving nothing of their personal things behind. They had packed to be gone for a very long time.

Their orders stated they were to report to Laird Ozra. They left immediately as they had all ready eaten, headed in the correct direction. When they were well down the road, Thrat’s two Riders took off after them at a leisurely pace so to not alert them that they were being followed.

2. Chapter Break

Tzaskela scried out her sister Imiyette. She was still among the mage army to the east. Tzaskela waited until the early hours then cast her circle when she was certain no one would disturb her spell working. Once inside, she reached out for her sister’s mind with her own and roused her from her slumber.

“The Laird is dead, the boy will be ready when our master arrives.”

“You have done well, Tzaskela, you will be greatly rewarded.”

“The pleasure is mine, Imiyette, to rid the world of the Riders and their filthy beasts.”

“How many Riders are at the Keep?”

“Only fifty trained with Runners, there are a few young ones yet untrained.”

“Anyone else who may give us trouble if the new Laird invites us in?”

“The Elders. They are all loyal to the Riders and the old Laird. I’m not sure how they will do under the rule of Torchar.”

“Then they will have to be dealt with as well. Thank you sister dearest. My condolences on the death of your husband, I hope his passing was painless and quick.”

“It was painless and quick as possible.” Tzaskela said. “How soon will you be here?”

“Within a fortnight.”

“Until then.”

“Blessed be.”

Tzaskela withdrew and broke the circle. Then she cleaned up the evidence and crawled into her bed. It was lonely sleeping with out Razzan since his passing, but all things must pass for progress, and he was part of the old world. Elemental magic, so tragic he would not join forces with the mages.

White Space

Kaben sat in the chapel watching over his father’s body like a dutiful son. It was his responsibility to aid his father to the afterlife, and to do that the priest explained, he had to pass through to the other side of the Eternal Flame. However, no one had bothered to explain to him how he was supposed to access this Eternal Flame. After two days an elder came into the chapel. Kaben had neither eaten nor truly slept during that time, the priest would only allow him sips of water as they tried to awaken the fire within. They knew Razzan had preformed the proper ceremony with the babe, many of them had witnessed it, so they did not understand why Kaben could not even sense the flame within, especially with the guardian dead.

The Elder examined Kaben and discovered he had somehow repressed the passing of the flame or the investiture at his birth had not been enough to bring him to the flame at the passing. It was rare but it did happen. He would speak to Tzaskela about it as she was the young man’s regent until he could call the flame that would release his father’s spirit.

White Space

Tzaskela agrees that Kaben should under go the Raising of the Fire Ceremony regardless, and if he was unable to reach the Eternal Flame on his own then he should be afforded all the aid the Elders were allowed to give him. The Elder argues that aiding him could cause him harm or even death. She seems unconcerned that he could die, and insists that it be attempted as soon as possible.

The elders obey and prepare Kaben for the ceremony.

White Space

No one knows of Razzan’s duplicity, so Kaben enters into the test willing and unsuspecting.

In the ward near the chapel a burial pyre is laid out, around it is a circle of stone and sand with several glyphs marked by the Elders. Kaben is ritualistically bathed in rain water by Thrat, Capitan of the Out Riders, who represented Kaben’s father. Then they walked into the circle together. Thrat called the Eternal Flame and held it in his hand, then he attempted to pass it to Kaben. All Kaben had to do was take it. Reach out and grab it, but he was afraid. Growing up in his father’s keep he never knew about the Fire Riders and now he was expected to lead them. Thrat is unsure what to do, his own sons had already taken the flame and passed this test.

“Just take it, it will not burn you, Kaben, the fire calls to you, do you not feel it?”

“No, I do not, it is not in me.”

“You must search, your father gave you the gift, we all saw him. Here in this chapel he inoculated you against the pain of fire. Take it. It is your birth right.”

“I can not. I’m afraid.” Kaben shook with fear.

Thrat looked to the Elder who signaled that he was to just give the boy the flame, if he was truly inoculated against it, it would not harm him.

White Space

When Thrat offered the Eternal Flame the second time, Kaben backed up a step.

“Kaben, you must stay in the circle. You must light your father’s pyre. I can not, it would not be right.”

Kaben shook his head.

“Was he not a good father to you? Did he not treat you fair in his life? I know it hurts you that he is gone from you now, but that can not be helped. We all will aid you in learning to be a man. But this is the first step you must take, this we can not spare you. Now, light the pyre.” Thrat pressed the Eternal Flame into Kaben’s hands.

The fire jumped from Thrat to Kaben and Kaben screamed. As he breathed in the flame swelled and enveloped him, his skin peeled and cracked under it’s golden glow as his red hair curled to black crisps. His blue eyes melted in their sockets and he fell forward on Razzan’s pyre. The Eternal Flame jumped from the husk that had been Kaben to the oil soaked wood then to the corpse of the Laird. From within the pyre a shriek erupted, then silence.

The Riders looked at each other, then at the Elders. They had a new Laird, but he was not in the Keep. Thrat left the telling of Kaben’s death to the Elders while he organized his Riders to go and find the new Laird.

White Space

Aen was up early fixing their breakfast when he saw Razzan in the flames of the cook fire. He looked so real Aen wanted to reach out and touch him, and before he realized he had done it, his hand was caressing the image in the flame.

Erel woke to the sight of his brother with his hand in the fire. “Aen, now ye be making me think ye be daft! Stop it!”

Aen turned and looked at Erel. “Razzan is dead.”

“We knew he was dying. That is why he wanted us out of the keep remember? Now I suggest we put as much space between us and them as we can before dark, do not you?”

Aen nodded and poured himself some morning brew. The gruel was thickened enough to eat and the horses had plenty of time to graze, supplementing their grain with the coarse grass that grew naturally in this region.

“Me thinks we should be on our way, Aen, come. Put out the fire.” Erel told his brother as he began saddling the horses.

Aen poured water over the coals, then he packed the dirt over it for extra safety then he packed their gear that Erel had not already packed. “Are you not going to eat?”

“I’ll eat as we ride, I want to put as much land between they and us as possible, Aen, something is not right with the Laird sending we two away like this.” Erel’s voice cracked, something it had been doing more and more often. “Methinks he was protecting us from something more than just his death. Tell me about this flame you can sense.”

“It is just there. Inside of me. I can feel it, but I can not touch it, yet it does not burn me. It offers me comfort when I am afraid, and courage when I have none. And, Erel, it speaks to me, giving me visions. I am no more daft than our mother, I swear I am not.” Aen was pleading with his brother to understand he was not crazy like people thought he was.

“We are of one birth, why can I not sense this flame? Why do you have it and I do not?” Erel sounded hurt not angry.

“I do not know. I only know that I can, it is as the Laird said.”

“But he said when he passed I would be able to as well, and I can not. This morning there was nothing again.”

“Tonight I will help you try to find it.’ Aen told him. They rode all that day and camped at dark. Erel reached for the tender box to start the fire but Aen stopped him.

“We are going to try and reach the flame, supper can wait.” Aen talked Erel through it until the moon rose and Erel could not see the flame. Yet he tried.

“I’m tired, Aen, tomorrow?” He pleaded.

“Tomorrow then.” Aen then lit the kindling on the first try then prepared their supper in silence. “I think Laird Razzan was trying to tell us somethink else that day, but he was not able to. That he was being overheard or somethink, I’m not sure. What do you think?”

“I think you are daft, brother, and I think the nights are getting colder. Come warm my blankets.” Aen smiled at his brother and crawled into the blankets with him, spooning him from behind.

Kaos and Inval stood watch over their two charges as their sire had before them. They were going home, and there was a long way yet to go to get there.

The next day passed pretty much the same as the previous with Erel attempting to find the flame and failing at every try. Aen felt the flame with in him, it was burning brighter than before, so bright in fact he knew all he had to do was reach out and touch it and it would be his to wield. He wanted to tell Erel about it, but he was not sure if his brother would understand. He was not sure if he understood. Why would one of them have the flame and not the other. They were milk brothers. They both knew that. Thrat had teased them about it when they were small. Especially when he caught them nursing from Noni when they were old enough to know better. She never minded though, she never chased them away, even after she pushed the colts away, she never chased them away.

On the last night of the full moon Erel tried one last time to reach the flame and failed. He went to bed miserable. Aen stayed up thinking about why there was this difference between them when they shared so many other things. While he thought he stared into the fire and sought his answers there. The flames formed images; Thrat and Kaben with Razzan between them. Thrat holding the flame that Erel sought that Razzan said was Erel’s by right. Why was Thrat giving it to Kaben? Aen didn’t wait for an answer, he reached into the fire, and took the flame.

Erel screamed in his blanket as the flame jumped from Aen to him, the blanket caught on fire, but he did not burn. Aen grabbed him and calmed him, putting out the fire, holding the flame in his hand, he held it out to Erel. “Take it.”

Erel smiled. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Erel took it and knew comfort.

3. Chapter Break

Killarney had set up camp that night while Sari took her turn watching them through the fire. This close it was easy to watch them, even to hear what they said. Aen had been trying to teach Erel how to reach the flame much like a veteran Rider would teach a young Rider before his voyage into the flame, but as far as anyone knew neither of these two were Riders. It made no sense to them, but they did as Thrat asked them to do and watched the two.

Then on the second night, the started the lessons again only this time Erel went to bed well before Aen finished doing what he was doing. Before dawn the flame passed from Laird to heir. Every Fire Folk tied to Laird Razzan would feel it, and the boy at the other camp was no exception. Sari watched as Aen reached into the fire and took the flame. She was not even able to do that. It was a gift of the Heir. She woke Killarney in time for him to witness the living flame jump from Aen to Erel, and neither burning.

“What do you make of it?”

“I’m not sure. Kaben is the heir, who are these two again?”

“The apprenticed horse boys. You remember their mother, the women who lived in the hut, would not let any Riders near her sons except Thrat.”

“They would not be Thrat’s sons.”

“No, but the Laird may have sired them. He was a wild one in his younger days before Lady Tzaskela began keeping him close to home.”

“I don’t know Sari. Laird Razzan would not give the flame to any but the true heir, would he?”

“Not unless he had a good reason for it. At least I would hope he would not. What should we do now?”

“I say we follow them for a while longer and see what happens. Then, we go back to Thrat.”

Sari nodded, it sounded like a good plan to her.

White space

When the funeral pyre burned down to ash, the Elders retire to the chapel to discuss who will have the pleasure of informing Tzaskela of her eldest son’s death.

The two chosen to go fully expect to have to comfort a grieving mother and wife as well as wage a battle of wills with the woman over the regency. However there are no tears, no grieving wife and mother. They are confronted only with a very angry woman who now wants her younger son tested.

“But, milady, the boy has no chance of passing the test.”

“Test him, Razzan must have given his powers to Brias instead of Kaben.”

“It’s not possible. Brias was not born twinned. One of the twins must be sacrificed for the ritual, you knew the rites milady. You gave Razzan the twin to burn on the alter. We witnessed it. It’s just that sometimes the child rejects the gift and while the ability is there, the mind will not accept it. We believe this is what happened with Kaben. Otherwise it does not make sense.”

“You do not understand. Brias must have the ability.” Tzaskela said. “He must. Test him, now.”

“He’s not old enough.” The second Elder informed her. “When he is thirteen summers we will test him.”

“Two years?”

“That’s the earliest we can possibly force the flame, milady, otherwise would be to kill him for certain.”

White Space

A fortnight later an army approaches. The Out Riders who should have been there to greet them were not there in force because they were still out looking for their new Laird. Presumably a bastard son of the late Laird Razzan somewhere in the countryside. Due to this they were over run before they could even attempt to put up a fight.

Tzaskela waited in the Great Hall with her children. Brias sat by her side like the dutiful son, he was the heir now that his elder brother failed at calling the flame and he knew he did not have a chance to call it, the Elders had explained it all to him. He would have to be invested with the office by his grandfather who was fighting a war far to the south and east, or his grandfather’s successor, whoever that might be.

Torchar strode into the hall his crimson tunic splattered with a darker, wetter red. His black pants form fitting his muscular legs, his golden hair hanging in a braid down his back. A circlet of silver kept the loose strands from his eyes.

“Is this the boy?”

Tzaskela shook her head, but before she could speak, Brias stood.

“Who are you to enter my hall and demand things of my mother?”

Torchar looked at Brias and smiled. “Spirited lad is he not, gentlemen?” The men with him laughed. “We have conquered your keep, lad. You are no longer the Laird here. How long you live depends on my whim, now come here.”

“I shall not.” Brias looked from the man to his mother. “It is not true. It can not be. Thrat trained the Riders. Where is Thrat?”

“Most likely he is dead. Several of your Out Riders died before they understood my forces were much larger than yours. They fought well and died with honor, but they did not have a chance, just as you do not. Now come to me or forfeit your life as well.”

Tzaskela nodded at him and he stepped forward.

Brias stood tall as he could for his eleven years. His silver eyes flashed in the fire light as he marched across the space separating him from his conqueror.

Torchar touched Brias’ hair where it touched his shoulders. “He is your son, Tzaskela, to wear natural spun gold. I think I will keep him close to me.” He cupped the boy’s chin. “Show me the flame, Fire Laird.”

“I can not.”

“You must or your mother will die.”

Brias looked at his mother, then back at the Mage, then over at the Elders. He was the Laird here, but he was only a child. He wept. “I can not.”

An Elder steps forward and tells Torchar it is true the boy can not, he is not old enough to be passed the Flame, and his elder brother died in the passing from father to son on his fathers funeral pyre.

Torchar nodded and thanked the Elder. Then he asked Brias if he had any other siblings and Brias nodded. He was utterly defeated. He then told Brias that if he wanted his siblings to live he would do exactly as he was told. Brias agreed. The two girls were found and given over to a man in Torchar’s army to watch over them. He was a gray haired old man, but he was war worn and looked as if he would carry out any order with out question.

Gillann and Ary were brought to him and he marched them out, leading one in each hand. Gillann looked as if she had been crying, but Ary went kicking and screaming and the man ended up having to pick her up and carry her out. Brias watched them go and wished he were the one going. There was something familiar about the man who took his sisters away that nagged at him. Something that made him trust him.

White Space

“Come, Laird Brias, I will show you your first test of being a ruler to your people.” Torchar told him. Brias went, thinking only of his sisters. One of Torchar’s men grabbed Tzaskela by the wrists and dragged her out to the ward not far from where her husband’s funeral pyre had been only a fortnight before. Here four men drove stakes into the ground and bound Tzaskela to the stakes laying on the ground. “Your mother betrayed you, your father, your family, and your people. She had your father killed at my order, Brias, then she betrayed me by not having your elder brother ready for me, instead she gave me you. You are a beautiful boy, Brias, and I will find my pleasure with you, but our relationship will be much different from what I had hoped to gain with your brother. What do you think we should do with her, Laird Brias?”

“I do not know.” Brias looked from the mage to his mother, confused.

“Come now, Laird Brias, surely you can think of some suitable punishment for your mother. She is a murderess, a traitor, what is the law?”

“De…” Brias choked on the word, “death.”

“Yes, death. Now, Laird Brias, order her death, my men will obey you just this once.”

“Fo… for crimes proven, I, Laird Brias, sentence the woman known as Tzaskela of Tzusor to death by… by fire.” When he spoke the words Tzaskela screamed. Torchar’s men lit her skirts with torches. Brias watched until Torchar pulled him away, it was then he noticed the smoke billowing out of the other buildings. They had set the entire keep on fire.

Torchar put Brias in front of him on the horse and rode back to his camp. The girls would not be a witness to their home burning in the dark, but Torchar wanted this night imprinted forever in Brias’ mind. The boy was already weeping. Torchar had Brias stand and watch the flames burn for a time, then Torchar led him into his tent. He was a very beautiful boy.

White Space

At each place he overpowered, Torchar took the children and gave the adults the choice of joining him or dying. Many chose to die rather than live under the rule of a mage, but there were a few who joined him. Then there were those who were not given a choice but were kept enthralled. The man who took Gillann and Ary away from the keep before it could be burned was one of the latter. His name had been Aralin, but he did not remember that now. Now they called him Rali. He vaguely remembered having a wife, but not her name and sometimes he wondered if any of the children among the boys and girls were his, but he doubted it because they were mostly dark or bright, not light like himself.

Soon they would be escorting another group to the Under World for magery training. Those who did not show aptitude would be trained in a craft or trade that supported the mages.

Rali smiles at the youngest child as he tucks her in. She’s not crying, but she is very angry. He’s sure she might try to escape, if the thought crosses her mind.

White Space

The next morning camp is breaking. Rali goes to check on his young charges and finds both still there. He takes them to a kitchen area which is the furthest from the still smoldering keep. While they are eating Brias comes to join them. He is accompanied by Torchar, who leaves the boy in Rali’s care. He is sore and does not want to sit down, some of the Riders make lewd comments, Brias angers easily especially in his sister’s hearing range. Rali steps in to protect them all. Ary comments to Gillann how much the man looks like the horse boy, Aen, with his light hair and eyes and how he was even willing to yell at everyone for picking on Brias. Then she wants to know what (insert dirty word here) is.

White Space

Imiyette over hears Ary telling Gillann about Aen. She knows they have the Wind King and Wind Queen, but if the power is passed to the missing prince before they can either stop it or capture him then they would have to start all over again with that element, and they did not have the time for all that. She went over and questioned Ary about Aen and found out the boy had a twin brother. That was rare among the Wind Folk. Twinning was common among the Fire Folk, and they were born and lived at the Fire Lairds Keep. Her head was spinning with possibilities. How best to hide something than to put it right out in the open? Tzaskela was a fool. Razzan had a bastard son. Now to find him.