Firebrand (2 page)

Kaijin nodded faintly at his mother. “Yes, Mama ...”

Elianee sighed again. “Thank you, dear.” She stood up and cleared away the dishes.

“Let him learn the hard way, Elianee.” Ramon rose from his chair and gathered his bags. “The boy’s only five years old. If he plays with fire, he will eventually get burned—plain and simple. He won’t do it again after that, I assure you.”

After his father stood up, Kaijin followed suit and slung his haversack across his shoulders. He double-checked his belt from which a small coin purse hung and jingled with the ten copper pieces his father had given him the day before. He opened the small leather satchel and began to count the money again but stopped in mid-count when he heard his father’s footsteps head for the front door. After quickly re-securing the satchel with a string, Kaijin followed him out of the house.

Kaijin was in heaven. The market district stretched for half a mile in length and appeared to be at least as wide. Hundreds of booths spanned the strip with many of the newer vendors setting up shop near the city’s main gates. With little room to walk in the crowded thoroughfare, Ramon grabbed Kaijin’s hand and kept him close. They traversed the marketplace while Kaijin’s eyes darted about in search for a new book vendor to visit. To his disappointment, their walk halted when Ramon visited a pottery booth and engaged the vendor in light conversation about trading. Kaijin sighed and watched the passersby while the two adults talked, their voices drowned by the marketplace bustle.

Across the street, a small banner branded with a bright, colorful Dragon caught Kaijin’s eye. The banner hung from a colorful tent filled with piles of books and scrolls stacked haphazardly on a table.

Beaming, Kaijin tugged his father’s hand. “Papa! Papa! Look! That place sells books! Please, can we go see the book vendor? Please? Please?”

Stopping mid-conversation, Ramon glowered at him. “One moment, Kaijin. I’m doing business here. You know better than to interrupt two adults talking, boy.”

Kaijin deflated. His eyes turned away from the adults and back to the book vendor’s table where he saw a crowd gathering. Soon, the cluster of people concealed the vendor’s booth. Kaijin gritted his teeth and shook his clenched fists, unable to control his bubbling excitement.

So many books.
So many—

Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, Kaijin glanced sidelong at his father and waited until his back was turned before slinking closer to the book vendor. He maneuvered through the tight crowd until he arrived at the table. Grinning, Kaijin rummaged through the piles of books, hoping to discover the rarest of treasures.

After tending to a customer, the book vendor scrutinized Kaijin. “Looking for something in particular, lad?” The man chuckled.

Kaijin, startled by the closeness of the voice, addressed the brown-robed man standing before him. “Ah, I j–just want to find a book.”

The vendor chuckled again. “Well, as you can see, I’ve plenty of books. What do you like to read?”

“I–I like all sorts of books.” Kaijin reached into his haversack and pulled out his weathered book with arcanic symbols and runes on the cover. “I’m almost finished reading this one.”

The vendor arched an eyebrow. “Do you understand those symbols?”

“No ... I–I wish I did ... but, um, the rest of the book isn’t written like that ... Well, some parts are, but I just skipped over them ... It’s, uh, a good book, though.”

He studied Kaijin briefly, then smiled. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Kaijin, sir ... Kaijin Sora.”

The vendor nodded, turned, and rummaged through another stack of books. “That book you are holding, Kaijin, is about magic.” He retrieved a thick tome from the bottom of the stack. “If you are interested in such a subject, perhaps you might find this compendium useful—it will teach you how to read those symbols.”

Kaijin pored over the new, hardbound tome secured with a leather tie. “R–really?! Yes! I want to learn how to read them! I want to read more about magic!” He fumbled in his coin purse and offered the vendor a handful of copper pieces.

The vendor took the money, counted it briefly and smirked. “Six copper pieces? This is far more than the book’s actual—” He paused and cleared his throat. “That is—perhaps you may be interested in this one as well, lad.” He offered a thicker, more weathered tome. “It explains the different deities of Exodus and how they relate to magic. I will give you this book for free because I ... like that eagerness in your eyes.”

Kaijin beamed and snatched the book. “Th–thank you, sir!” After stuffing the books into his haversack, he knelt down and skimmed through a stack of books beside the table.

He was engrossed in his search when he felt someone bump past him. Startled, Kaijin gazed up at an older man, clean-shaven, well-groomed and dressed in flamboyant nobles’ robes.

The stranger didn’t appear to notice Kaijin—or perhaps he had and simply considered him insignificant. The man silently perused the selection of books on the table for several minutes.

The vendor studied the newcomer, his slate-grey eyes narrowing. “May I ...
help
you, sir?”

The stranger’s dark eyes rose to meet the vendor’s, and he smiled. “Jarial Glace. What a pleasant surprise.”

Kaijin observed the exchange in silence.

Jarial frowned. “I don’t know how you found me, but I suggest you leave. Now. I’ve more important things—like actual
customers
—to tend to.”

“You mean this boy?” The nobleman scoffed, raising his nose at Kaijin. “Surely, you would rather hear about my amazing discovery, instead. Yes?”

Jarial peered over the table at Kaijin, whose fearful eyes met his. “No, Xavorin, I would not,” he replied, regarding the nobleman again. “I am giving you one last chance to leave before I call the guards.”

Xavorin huffed and backed away from the table. “Fine, I will leave. But I wanted to have the pleasure of telling you, personally, that you were wrong. About
everything.
I’ve gained a deeper understanding of the Art by tapping into the unknown strands of the Threads of magic. People like you, who have held me back from my true potential time and again, are blind to the truth. By now, I’m certain my skills have exceeded even yours.”

Jarial’s face flushed, and he looked daggers at the noble. “Enjoy your ‘newfound discovery’ while you can, Xavorin,” he hissed, a small crackle of electrical energy emanating from his slate-grey eyes. “It will slowly consume your soul until you are nothing more than a corpse—and quite fitting, I might add, for someone who betrayed me. Now leave, and do not speak to me again.”

The crowd around Jarial’s booth began to scatter as tension rose between the two men. The annoyed tone in Jarial’s voice startled Kaijin, who, when he tried to stand, bumped his head under the table.

Xavorin’s face was clearly panic-stricken, and the commotion drew the attention of a few guards. He promptly walked away.

After Xavorin disappeared into the crowd, Jarial regarded Kaijin. The electric sparks around Jarial’s eyes dissipated. “Are you all right, lad?”

Kaijin winced and rubbed the back of his throbbing head, but managed to give Jarial a small nod.

“Good.” Jarial began tidying the books into neat piles, swearing under his breath. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. Please don’t hesitate to browse more, if you wish.”

Kaijin opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. The thought of browsing more books sounded much more appealing. His eyes scanned for a new stack to search and stopped on a large, locked chest sitting at the rear of the booth. A small pot sat on top and a mysterious, cerulean flame burned from within.

Jarial continued his work, seeming to pay little mind to Kaijin’s actions. “So, tell me. Where are your parents? It is strange for a young child to be wandering alone in a busy city like this. Though, I will admit, I’ve never met a child outside the Citadel who was so young and eager to learn magic.”

Kaijin approached the chest to investigate the strange pot, his eyes fixated on the dancing flame. “Why is the fire blue?”

“A magical component makes it burn that way, lad.” Jarial sounded amused.

Entranced by the beautiful flame, Kaijin extended his hand to touch it. The heat from the fire intensified the closer his hand drew, as did the tingling sensation in his body, which caused him to shiver. Running his hand along the top of the pot, Kaijin studied the flame that emitted tiny showers of blue sparks as it licked between his fingers. The flame eventually seared his fingertips, causing him to let out a small cry of pain as he jerked his hand away to nurse his injury.

Jarial hustled to Kaijin’s side. “Now why in the hells did you do that?” He smacked Kaijin on the back of the head before moving the pot out of his reach. “You burned yourself, didn’t you?”

Before Kaijin could respond, he felt a firm hand grab his forearm and heard his father’s stern voice bellow, “Kaijin! Don’t
ever
do that again!”

Ramon spun Kaijin around to face him.

Kaijin cringed, holding his injured hand.

Ramon examined the burns on Kaijin’s hand and grabbed it, igniting another flare of pain. “Serves you right for getting burned.” He scowled. “Now, maybe next time you won’t do it again! And another thing ...”

Kaijin was scolded for several minutes. When they finally turned to leave, Kaijin heard Jarial’s voice. “Excuse me, sir. I presume you must be this boy’s father. May I, perhaps, have a word with you?”

Ramon glared at Jarial. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“Of course, sir.” Jarial ushered the man to a more secluded spot in the booth where they spoke in hushed tones.

Kaijin remained silent and still, minding his manners and not eavesdropping on the two adults. His eyes drifted to the burning pot which now sat atop a towering stack of books. A brief sense of peace filled Kaijin’s mind when he stared at the entrancing blue flame, its glow ebbing and flowing smoothly. When the sensation subsided, Kaijin could feel his heart pounding anxiously. He clutched the haversack containing his new books, not daring to open it until he was safely home.

Ramon flung the front door open and yanked Kaijin inside. He thrashed Kaijin’s bottom with his calloused hand until Kaijin could no longer shed a tear. Afterward, Ramon dragged him to the kitchen.

He sat Kaijin on the hard, wooden chair, the solid impact increasing the pain in his stinging rear. Kaijin winced and held in his newly-formed tears, not daring to cry any more in front of his father. He kept his face down and didn’t acknowledge his mother, who had come to investigate the commotion. Instead, Kaijin rested his eyes on the burning candle in the center of the table.

“What in bloody hells were you doing wandering off by yourself?!” Ramon barked. “Gods, you could have gotten lost out there! What if ...”

Kaijin briefly glanced up and saw Elianee purse her lips while Ramon continued to scold. The volume of his voice rose, and she quietly padded out of the room.

Kaijin, his rear still throbbing from the spanking, managed to stay in his chair. He felt weary from the day’s events and enduring his father’s long-winded lectures. His gaze momentarily shifted to his father’s back before returning to the candle. He fantasized about the strange blue flame he had seen in the bookseller’s booth.

What sort of magical component turns fire blue?
He recalled the vendor’s words.

He stared at the candle’s flame, hypnotized by its little dance. He held his breath and inched his hand toward the incandescence. Kaijin’s mind drifted.

Beautiful ...

Rubbing his fingers through the flame, Kaijin felt them burn, further searing the soft skin. He exhaled and retracted his hand. He held back his whimpers and nursed his seared fingertips.

Ramon spun around in time to notice Kaijin’s wincing and stormed over to him. The man’s face flushed deeper than his red hair. “Damn it to the bleeding hells, boy! Have you
still
not got it through that thick head of yours?” He grabbed Kaijin’s hand, pressing firmly against the wound, and yanked him out of the chair.

The pain was unbearable, and Kaijin was no longer able to hold back his emotions. He cried out, tears streaming down his face, but he didn’t resist his father’s strong grasp.

Ramon dragged Kaijin upstairs to his bedroom. “I try hard. Really, I do,” Ramon said as he cleared all of the candles from the room. “I don’t know where I’ve gone wrong with you. Your mother says you’re smart, but I see nothing but foolery from you.”

Kaijin sat at the edge of his bed, rubbed the tears from his eyes, and sniffled.

“This is a sickness, Kaijin, don’t you see? It’s not normal for children your age to be so obsessed with something so dangerous as fire. This needs to stop.”

“B–but Papa, I don’t feel sick,” Kaijin said timidly.

Ramon groaned. “Sickness of the
mind,
son! Fire is not meant to be touched.”

“But, Papa—”

“Common sense doesn’t come from books, Kaijin. It comes from the hard lessons in life.” Ramon scowled. “Now stop all that crying. Only little boys cry. You’re not a little boy, are you?”

Kaijin sniffled and wiped away stray tears. “No, Papa ...”

“Good. Take these lessons like a man, and learn from your mistakes, understand?”

“Yes, Papa ...”

Ramon nodded firmly. “This is for your own good, son. You’ll thank me later.” He left.

Kaijin buried his head in his hands and sobbed. His father’s words were jumbled in his mind. Kaijin heard the footsteps drift away from the other side of the door. He was alone.

For the remainder of the day, Kaijin found it difficult to read. His bottom still hurt, and his eyes were dry and bloodshot. His fingers stung every time he turned a page. From his parents’ bedroom, he heard raised voices.

His father said, “... Yeah, he thinks we should consider enrolling him in a mage school ... What do you mean? ... Damn it, how should I know? ... I know the boy is smart, Elianee, but he lacks any sense. I tell you! What do we do? ... Yes, I know, dear....”