Flameseeker (Book 3) (9 page)

“You’re nothing like your family, Ranaiah,” Kaijin
assured her. “You are a sweet, strong, and beautiful woman who has helped me
realize my purpose, understand my power, and teach me things about the Firelord
that I would’ve otherwise never known. I owe you my life for all that you’ve
done for me.” He turned her around to make her face him directly. “Ranaiah, let
me help you now.”

Her face was so close to his that he could feel
the heat emanating from it. Her thick lashes fluttered downward a moment.
“Kaijin,” she whispered. “This is my duty. I cannot allow you to get caught up
in my problems. I must handle this myself.”

Kaijin shook his head. “No. This has obviously
been hurting you for some time. Give me a chance to help you. It is the very
least I can do for your protecting me from Vargas. No one is going to hurt you
anymore, Ranaiah.
I
will make sure of that.”

Ranaiah’s eyes lifted. Sadness and concern filled them.
“What do you intend to do?”

“Well, for starters, I will find a way to get
Vargas back from the Realm of Fire, return him here so that he may atone for
his crimes against you as well as the Pyre.” He gently stroked the side of her
cheek. He watched her, remembering how content she looked when she had first
started the hearth. “You, of all people, deserve nothing but the highest respect.”

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, but it
lasted for only a brief moment. “Tachus will soon begin to wonder what has
happened, once he realizes there is no reply letter from Vargas.”

“Then perhaps I should go to Ankhram and speak to
your brother before that happens. Perhaps he will be more apt to hear me out, since
I’m also a follower of Ignis—and a Firebrand.”

“What? No! That’s ludicrous! There’s no telling
what he may do to you!”

“I will do whatever it takes to help you find
peace.”

“Don’t do anything rash, Kaijin. While I do not approve
of Tachus’s actions, he is still my brother, and I do love him. I just wish that
he was not so ... misguided.”

Kaijin nodded. “I understand. I want this to be
done as diplomatic as possible.”

She stared at him, hope flashing in her eyes.

Kaijin felt his heart flutter. He saw that look in
her eyes amid the sadness.
She trusts me. She believes in me. I will not
fail her.

Her face tilted forward ever so slightly. A flame ignited
deep within him that yearned to burn for her. He smiled and tentatively leaned
forward until his lips brushed against hers. The gentle sweetness of her lips
stoked his inner flames, and without a second thought, Kaijin indulged in a
deep, loving kiss.

IX

Morning came almost as soon as Jarial had shut his
eyes, and he realized he’d overslept by almost an hour. After packing his scant
belongings into his satchel, Jarial, accompanied by Sable, settled his account
for his inn room and left for what he expected would be the last time. The
crowds filled the streets, slowly drifting in the general direction of the Citadel.

Mages from all backgrounds and skill levels had arrived
in groups, and it left Jarial feeling bitter about what he was missing.
Gods,
this year looks like it will be huge.
He hastened along the wide street,
toward the aurorium to fetch Omari. He couldn’t stop gazing back at the crowd.
I
wish I was there now....

Young children ran up to some of the mages, doubtlessly
pestering them with questions, while the older youths admired the masters from
afar. Jarial sighed. He remembered when he had been one of those children, asking
similar questions, and likewise, the answers he’d given to some of those same
questions when he was asked in his turn.

“What in th’ soddin’ ’ells is goin’ on around ’ere?
Looks like a party!” The excited voice broke Jarial from his thoughts.

He turned to a stranger, who sat atop a stack of
crates, his scrawny legs dangling. At first, Jarial thought it was a little
boy, but then he spotted the pointed ears and realized the ‘boy’ was actually a
brownie.

The brownie squinted ahead, not seeming to notice
Jarial. He looked miffed. “An’ if it
is
a party, ’ow come I wasn’t
invited?”

Jarial looked down his nose at him. Brownies were
notorious for having sticky fingers, but unlike most people, he wasn’t
threatened by them. He was confident enough in his skills to ward off any thief
or pickpocket. He smirked at the brownie’s curiosity. “It’s not exactly the
kind of ‘party’ you’d be interested in. It’s a meeting of the minds.”

The brownie’s attention snapped to him, his ebony
topknot swishing to one side. He regarded Jarial with playful brown eyes. Light
battle scars marred his young ruddy, sideburned face, and a single prominent
scar extended across the bridge of his nose. “Aye? Like a fiddlin’ party?”

Jarial arched his eyebrow. It took him a moment to
comprehend the dialect.
Ah. ‘Fiddlers’ are mages.
“Yes, something like
that. You wouldn’t understand.”

The brownie huffed and gave his leather jerkin a
firm tug. “Is that so? Well, I ’appen to know a few fiddlers, myself! You on
your way there, too? Can I come?” The brownie sat up straighter on the edge of
the crate stack and gave a broad, gap-toothed smile.

“I don’t even know you, nor do you know me. Besides,
the event is for mages only.” Jarial eyed him sharply and concentrated a
moment, seeking any traces of an arcane aura about him. “Which you don’t seem
to be.”

“Th’ name’s Nester.” The brownie thumbed himself
in the chest. “Also known as ‘Nimble’ Nester Two-Blades, an’ more recently,
‘Nester th’ Explorer.’ A Dragon gave me that title, y’know. An’ I do, too, know
’ow to do tricks. I can make a gold piece disappear, I can!”

Jarial snorted, slightly amused. “I’m sure you
can.”

“Wanna see?”

“No. Now excuse me. I have business to tend to.”
Jarial spun on his heel and was about to leave when he heard the crates behind
him rattle, and Sable let out a terrified hiss.

“Woah!” Nester cried out.

Jarial spun around in time to see Nester tumble to
the ground as a burly half-Dragon effortlessly picked up the stack of crates.
Sweat dripped from the giant’s short brown hair, tipped with silver, and
glistened from his broad bare chest and brawny arms, also silver-hued. Barefoot
and wearing only a pair of dark blue silken trousers and a tattered, grey silk
sash, the half-Dragon stood taller than a normal-sized man, overshadowing the
diminutive Nester in an almost comedic way.

Now there’s something I don’t see every day.
Jarial goggled at the giant. Half-Dragons were an uncommon sight in Aransiya,
where very few cities and towns accepted them, due to gossip, misunderstandings,
and—perhaps the most obvious—their physical appearance. But since Ghaeldorund was
a magocratic city, such exotic creatures were generally tolerated and sometimes
even welcomed.

“Oy, Aidan! At least warn me when you’re gonna
take my seat right out from under me!” Returning to his feet, Nester barely
reached Jarial’s midsection.

“Don’t you have something else better to do,
Nester?” the half-Dragon asked. He hefted the crates toward the entrance to a
building—which Jarial realized was the local orphanage.

When the creature’s back was turned, he noticed another
anomaly: two prominent nubs protruded from his muscular back, which was heavily
scarred, with skin flaking in some spots.

Hmm. And he’s growing wings, as well, it seems.

“I’m tryin’ to make some coin to survive in this
soddin’ place,” Nester said to the giant. “It’s only been a li’l over a week
since we came ’ere, an’ I’m
already
gettin’ low on funds! It’s so
soddin’ expensive ’ere, it is! We need to leave!”

Aidan snorted. “You should find some honest work,
like Aidan did.”

Nester waved his hand dismissively. “Nay, th’ kids
are more than capable of ’elpin themselves. You’re spoilin’ them too much,
bringin’ them all this food an’ supplies an’ whatnot almost every day.”

“Aidan must make sure no child suffers.”

“Th’ old lady pays you more than what you probably
actually spend. Why not share some of that gold with your best mate, aye?”

Aidan didn’t reply. He reached the stoop, and the
door to the orphanage swung open. An elderly woman poked her head out and
smiled warmly at Aidan. “The goddess bless you, Aidan, for your wonderful
generosity,” she said, holding the door open as he made his way inside. “I wish
you wouldn’t keep straining yourself like this.”

He grunted. “It is Aidan’s pleasure. Aidan wants
to make sure all the children are happy.”

The woman shut the door behind them, muffling
their voices beyond.

Jarial felt Sable nudge his calf, which he took as
his cue to leave. He travelled through the streets, avoiding the crowds and
morning bustle of the city by detouring down alleys and vacant side streets.
He’d been away from Ghaeldorund for so long, but he had never forgotten the
various shortcuts and secrets that the city held. Sable followed in his
footsteps, keeping low to the ground.

He emerged not far from the Celestran aurorium,
where people walked past from the street, some heading inside. The aurorium was
one of the city’s most prominent landmarks. The building’s exterior was made of
pure white stone, with windowpanes trimmed in glistening gold. Banners
emblazoned with the Celestran holy symbol hung from windows and over the twin
gold-trimmed entrance doors.

With Omari nowhere in sight, Jarial decided to
take a moment to pay his respects before setting out on his journey.

“‘Ey! Where are you goin’ in sucha ’urry?”
Nester’s strident voice called from behind him.

Jarial cringed. After swearing under his breath,
he asked, “What do you want? Why are you following me?”

Nester crossed his arms. “You never finished
tellin’ me about th’ secret fiddlers’ party goin’ on!”

“It’s not a secret. If you are so curious about
the symposium, then why don’t you go see it, yourself?”

“Aye, I would, but you said it’s for fiddlers
only.”

“Since when did
that
ever stop a brownie?”

Nester laughed. “Well, nay, it don’t. But I’ve
travelled with two fiddlers recently an’ ’ave seen—an’ felt—what they can do. I
gotta newfound respect for ’em, I do! So as easy as I can probably sneak in,
I’d be toast if all those fiddlers there got mad at me. So that’s why I thought
you might be able to vouch for me an’—”

“Forget it.” Jarial shooed Nester away and opened
the door to the aurorium. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

Stepping inside the Celestran aurorium for the
first time in many long years gave Jarial an awkward feeling. Though not a
religious man, Jarial often paid his respects to the goddess Celestra. Lately,
however, more than ever, he felt an urge to seek out the innermost parts of his
faith, to assure himself that his plans would succeed.

The interior was as immaculate as the exterior. A
series of artistic portraits depicting the goddess in Her nude form, basking
amongst fields of honeysuckle, covered the high ceiling and spiraled up to the
central skylight. Gold-tassled burgundy curtains draped every stained-glass
window, keeping the harsh sunlight at bay. The snow-white carpet appeared
amazingly well kept and spotless despite the frequent traffic, and it was so
plush that Jarial felt as though he were wading through its dense pile. The
controlled sunlight and the banks of candles and candelabrum that dotted small
alcoves along the walls and throughout the main sanctuary provided a dim but
warm light, which gave the chamber a welcoming atmosphere and discouraged visitors
from leaving quickly.

Jarial inhaled the scents of incense, mixed with
the light fragrance of honeysuckle, the goddess’s signature flower. Several
clerics strolled about, tending to visitors. A group of travelers had gathered
at a small wooden altar. A priest prayed and sprinkled honeysuckle blossoms upon
it. The white-and-gold-patterned altar cloth draped neatly over the altar, its
embroidered frontals of designs depicting Dragons hanging loosely over the
sides.

Other people sat in pews, praying silently to themselves.
Bowing his head, Jarial quietly made his way to one of the rear pews and sat.
He folded his hands over his lap and began his own silent meditation. Sable
curled up beside him on the pew and, purring contentedly, shut her eyes.

After Jarial concluded his prayers, he felt a
gentle hand on his shoulder and heard a soft whisper. “The goddess bless you,
sir.”

Jarial tensed and opened his eyes. A woman stood beside
him, smiling warmly. Silken snow-white hair half-veiled her sapphire eyes. She
wore blue silver-trimmed priestly robes bearing a rose intertwined with a
silhouette of a Dragon’s head. Everything about her was flawless—no blemishes
or other imperfections on her powder-white skin, and her body perfectly
proportioned. It was as if Jarial was staring at the essence of Celestra
herself in mortal form. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.

The more he stared, the more it baffled him that
he could not determine her age, though he noted a maturity in her eyes.
Surely,
that is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

“If there is any way I can assist you, please let
me know,” she said.

Jarial felt his mouth go dry. Such simple words,
yet they made his heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Priestess. I was ... simply
praying to the goddess for a safe journey that I will soon be embarking on with
my student.”

She nodded. “The goddess is always watching over
us. It is She who gives us strength. I can personally attest to that, as my
comrades and I returned safely from a grand adventure not long ago.”

“Oh?” Jarial raised his eyebrows. “Well, that is
good to know.”

She nodded and slid her hand off his shoulder. “My
name is Zarya. I only recently began working here at the aurorium.”

“Zarya,” Jarial repeated.
What a lovely name.
“My name is Jarial. Jarial Glace.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Glace.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine.” Jarial’s smile
broadened. “And please, call me Jarial.”

Zarya looked around. “Is your student here, now?”

“Omari should be along shortly.” His smile fell.
He
better be.

Zarya blinked. “Omari? Batsuyou?”

“Why, yes.” Jarial tilted his head to the side.
“Do you know him?”

“
Know
him? He was one of my traveling companions.”

Jarial and Zarya spoke at length about Zarya’s
adventures and Jarial’s plans for his journey. Zarya, seeming intrigued by him
from their talk, joined him when he left the aurorium shortly afterward. They
found Omari, his bag slung across him and his glowing staff secured at his
back, patiently waiting just outside along with Nester, who stood by him, attempting
to make idle conversation with the young mage.

Sable sat down comfortably by the aurorium’s entry
doors and began giving herself a bath. Percival climbed down from Omari’s
shoulders and inched next to Sable, watching her curiously.

Nester ran to Zarya. “’Ey, beautiful! Fancy seein’
you again!”

Zarya nodded. “And you as well, Nester. I hope
you’re staying out of trouble.”

“Oh, you know me!” Nester grinned.

Omari snorted.

Zarya acknowledged him. “Hello, again,” she said.

“Zarya.” The young mage nodded curtly.

“Your master was telling me about a journey you
were both embarking on.” Her face lit up. “You’re really going to see Kaijin
again?”

Omari glanced around the group and cleared his
throat. “Well, y-yes, yes, that is correct.”

“Aye?” Nester spoke up. “You’re gonna see Kaijin?
That’s wonderful! I miss th’ fiery sod, I do! So when do we go? I updated my
map, y’know!”

Jarial blinked. “Wait ... so
you’re
the one
Omari mentioned has a map to the Pyre?”

Nester grinned. “Aye! Sure do!” He nudged Omari in
the thigh with his elbow. “You’re tellin’ people about ol’ Nester, are you? Any
beautiful women amongst ’em?”

Zarya tried to suppress a chuckle, and Jarial smirked
at her.
She is rather cute when she laughs.

Omari rubbed his face, exasperated. “No! Confound
it! Look, we just need to know how to get to the Pyre from here, that is all.”

“Aye? Well let’s go, then!”