Lord of Fire: #1 The Fire Chronicles Read online

  Lord of Fire

  Susi Wright

  Copyright © 2015 by Susi Wright.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911048

  ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-5035-0726-5

  Softcover 978-1-5035-0725-8

  eBook 978-1-5035-0724-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All artworks are the creations of the author.

  Rev. date: 07/13/2015

  Xlibris

  1-800-455-039

  www.Xlibris.com.au

  715294

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Dedication

  With thanks

  First, to the Fashioner of the Universe, for allowing me all the wonderful things in my life, including the time to write, and fulfil a lifelong ambition

  Not least to my dear family and friends for their unconditional love, their support, their computer expertise, and taking the time to read and review this book

  To my life’s experiences which have shaped my imagination, and given me the passion to want to share it

  To my readers who have chosen to experience this world, I hope you enjoy the journey!

  Prologue

  (Year 840—after the Great Wars)

  The sun was setting over the plains of Reba, the shining red-gold on the grasslands visible from the trees on the edge of Reba forest. Grazing rumars were dotted in their hundreds across the landscape, their massive antlers glinting in the last golden rays before dusk.

  The two boys, brothers, stood side by side, silent silhouettes on the treeline, their brilliant blonde hair appearing halo-like in the sunshine, both revelling in the beauty of the scene. This was just one aspect of Nature witnessed by them which never ceased to amaze.

  The elder brother at twelve years old, and therefore in charge, suddenly broke the reverie by announcing in their native tongue, ‘Altor! Come! We only have a few hours before we must sleep!’ With that, he opened his feather cloak and launched himself airborne into the depths of the forest. Altor, with a delighted yell, did likewise deftly avoiding the trees, zigzagging in flight as he chased his brother.

  The two boys were Gaians, a secretive nomadic race able, after proper tutelage from their elders, to utilise the powers of Nature at will. Many hours a day were spent in isolated places, with their father and other elders, honing these nascent mental skills and learning the physical arts of combat, evasion, archery, and the sword, preparing for when they might be needed in time of war.

  Mostly redundant now in these peaceful times, and only needing three to four hours of sleep a night, youngsters had many daylight and dark hours of boredom to fill with fun and games and, in the brothers’ case, sometimes mischief.

  For instance, they had both been in trouble several times with their father, Thunis, for stealing food or playing harmless pranks on people, just for fun. Occasionally, they had stumbled on an opportunity to intervene in a skirmish, to help someone without being seen, but this was frowned upon by Thunis as chieftain of the clan, having laid down a strict moral code of honour, and whose philosophy dictated that humans should deal with their own trivial problems, that Gaians were specially trained for a lofty purpose, to fulfil prophecy and deliver all Life, sometime in the future, from Dire Circumstance. It was imperative that others should not be alerted to Gaian existence until such time, and until they would no longer be persecuted for being different.

  Unfortunately, because of the brothers’ fun-loving and energetic natures, Thunis found himself repeating this advice far more often than he would have preferred. Luckily for them, no harm had yet come of their little mischief.

  One afternoon, they had been practising, under the supervision of one of Thunis’ experts, how to use the power of the Wind for more than just cloak-flying, by whipping up small eddies of dust and leaves and accurately depositing them in specific places. It was one of Altor’s first lessons in this skill, and he was delighted and fascinated by his new-found abilities. When the day’s training came to an end, he was disappointed, wanting to continue. ‘Lumi, let’s do more wind-bending! It is such fun!’ But Luminor, being the elder and more responsible one, warned against this possible folly, using more words than was his habit, to bring home his authority over the younger boy. ‘No, Altor! We are not ready to do this alone! Anyway, it is time for sleep. You know Father wants us to rise before dawn for swimming practice!’

  They returned to their camp, at present in a nearby gorge, Altor lagging sulkily behind his older brother. Even though Gaians of this age were inept at the skills of perception, Luminor was easily aware of his sibling’s dark mood. Ever the diplomat, he decided to make going home more fun than getting into mischief. He signalled to Altor that they should stop flying and touch down a distance away from camp, in the adjacent valley.

  Landing on the moss-covered boulders at the base of a cliff, he leapt ahead onto a rocky outcrop that looked almost impossible to scale.

  ‘Come, Altor, let us climb!’ he began climbing, unearthing hidden handholds and footholds in the craggy surface, looking over his shoulder and grinning at Altor’s sullen expression.

  ‘A race to the top… and home! The winner gets the next new duck-feather cloak!’ Luminor knew his younger brother could not resist a challenge. The added incentive of such a coveted prize made it all the more attractive. A duck-feather cloak was the best kind to wear in winter, being so soft and warm, but the feathers were not abundant and very tedious to collect and weave. Their mother and sister were almost finished with th
e first one in five years, which would ordinarily go to the eldest boy. Altor would be expected to wait for the next one, which could be quite some time. Luminor was prepared to at least offer to sacrifice his right to it, if Altor could be encouraged to avoid mischief.

  Quickly catching on to the fun to be had, Altor used his cloak to boost himself exactly level with Luminor.

  ‘No more cloaks! Agreed?’ reminded Luminor. Cheating was reprehensible.

  ‘Agreed! Go!’ yelled Altor, fully committed to the excitement of the race.

  The two scaled the sheer cliff, neck and neck for most of the way, panting from the physical exertion. When the rocks crumbled under Altor’s feet, causing him to slip back onto a ledge just below them, Luminor laughed, goading him to greater effort, knowing neither would let the other fall while they had their cloaks to use in such an emergency. Altor picked himself up, grunting from the effort of catching up to Luminor, determined to beat him home. They continued climbing, alternately taking the lead, as they were similarly matched in physical strength, both adept at the training exercises in the sword and underwater swimming, which conditioned them to a high level. It was a fair contest, one of many they engaged in during the course of their training or just for fun, as now. Luminor, two years older, with his larger frame had a marginal advantage due to his longer reach, so he made it to the top ahead of Altor, by a mere body’s length.

  Surveying for a split second the gorge and their camp, set in the gully far below, Luminor felt justified in not forfeiting his warm winter cloak to his younger brother, when he knew their mother would make sure Altor had one before the worst cold weather. He launched himself off the edge, into a heady breakneck glide, using no assistance from the updraught, followed immediately by Altor, who had completely forgotten the prize, yelling in excitement at the dangerous dive, knowing he could still win if he had the courage to free-fall longer. The feeling of flying like this was second to none! The danger of misjudging the dive was very real!

  At the last second, just metres before the ground, they simultaneously filled their cloaks with a strong, braking updraught, which only succeeded in the avoidance of broken legs as they landed, Luminor slightly in the lead, nimbly somersaulting and rolling to their feet, gasping for air and laughing, at the feet of their mother, who had been watching their reckless approach with no small amount of censure. A tall, elegant fair-haired woman with beautiful green eyes, Aleana regarded them in her regal way, feeling the need to voice her concern. ‘Do you two never have your fill of excitement… that you would risk your lives, like that?’

  The two brothers schooled their expressions to seriousness, though their hearts were pounding, their spirits still soaring from the dive. Neither regretted it for a moment! Aleana knew this; they were not difficult to read at this tender age. Really not wanting to demean such a show of courage, a virtue that would serve them well in the future, she simply shook her head, turning to lead the way in to the main family tent where she had prepared them a meal, and soon hoped to settle them to sleep in the nearby bivouacs. Settling the boys was always a challenge!

  Altor, however, after a cursory try, was unable to fall asleep, his blood still humming, too excited from the day’s activities. Gaians had extreme emotion and senses, so they appreciated deeply all beauty, sensing things beyond the obvious, even with limited perception. Chuli gems were particularly magical, and the most beautiful of earth elements.

  Earlier in the evening when the boys had been flying in the forest, Altor had perceived the nearby glowing presence of an incredibly brilliant blue gem, emanating from a wagon in a traders’ camp. He kept his thoughts to himself even though he was sure Luminor would not have missed such a beautiful aura. The wagons were full of various commodities, but the one full of Chuli gems, particularly a rare sapphire-blue piece, inexorably drew his attention. Many times he had watched his mother and sister fashioning jewellery as a pastime, and he desperately wanted an amulet to wear.

  He wanted that gem above all else.

  He could not resist thinking, if he could just tip the cart with a gust of wind, he could swoop in amongst the confusion, just take that one, and be gone before anyone was the wiser. Then he would say he found it along the road, surely not so far from the truth that his father would detect the deceit?

  A quiet snore from Lumi falling into a deep sleep prompted him to give in to the temptation to sneak out into the night, to try out his power over the Wind and steal his prize, naively forgetting the fact that his father, though now deep in sleep and therefore less perceptive, would inevitably feel the disturbance in Nature, and Altor would have very little time before he was discovered.

  Cloak-flying, he reached his destination in seconds, heady with forbidden mischief, and from the edge of the clearing, he could easily distinguish the wagon containing the magical blue gem which pulled at his senses like a magnet. He was so focussed on his prize, nothing else about the scene mattered, as he felt his excitement bubbling to bend the air into a willy-willy just strong enough to overturn the wagon. The breeze, at his bidding, began to stir the leaves on the trees around them, in an otherwise dead-still atmosphere.

  What Altor had not noticed in his haste were the traders in their bedrolls on the ground, because of the warm summer night. Out of plain sight behind the wagons slept the trader, his pregnant wife, and two men, one of them a guard who had succumbed to sleep at his post.

  In moments, the wind was whirling, faster and faster, whipping up leaves and branches. Altor quickly realised things were getting out of control, trying but failing to calm himself as the eddy seemed to take on a life of its own and became a tornado, ripping limbs off trees and hurling them about, overturning all the wagons and frightening off the samblars used to pull them.

  Altor, so terrified by the mayhem he had caused, gave in to the inclination to abandon the scene, momentarily glancing around hoping no one was hurt, catching the horrified gaze of the trader, before flying off as fast as he could. In seconds, on the other side of the forest, he came face to face with a very angry Thunis. His father had almost caught up with him in his mischief, knowing that this time there was serious damage; he grabbed him by the ear and, airborne, without the ill-gotten prize, pulled him painfully home for suitable punishment.

  The minute Altor had been seen flying off, the whirlwind dropped as quickly and mysteriously as it had arisen, but by then the damage was done. Chadren and his men had woken at the commotion were on their feet and staring in shock at the devastation around them.

  The screams of Zula, Chadren’s wife, pierced the eerie silence of the aftermath. He found her lying in the nearby bushes, a huge bough pinning her to the ground. Horrified, he immediately knew she was fatally injured by the amount of blood that had already soaked the ground beneath her. He yelled to his men to come and help get the tree limb off her. It took all three to heave it to one side, so they could tend to her, but by then she had lapsed into unconsciousness.

  Chadren’s worst fears were realised when he had a closer look at the injuries. Zula’s chest and one leg had been crushed by the branch. He was beside himself, thinking in her stillness, she was already gone, when unexpectedly she stirred and moaned with pain. He held her hand tightly, murmuring comfort for a few minutes, until realisation set in that his child was being born. The trauma had set off labour. A tiny glimmer of hope dawned that at least, and though very early, he might yet see his child born alive and well.

  ‘Rath, Tomar, quickly, get me some of that lubio tincture from the medicine chest, if you can find it!’ he yelled. ‘This was the work of the supernatural! I saw the demon flying to get away! Then the wind suddenly dropped! Strange… don’t you think?’

  The two other men, who had seen no one else near the camp, looked at each other and shrugged, simply assuming that superstition had taken hold of Chadren’s worried mind as he panicked, trying to save his beloved wife.

  Be that true or not, it could not be disputed that the main concern was to allevi
ate Zula’s pain as much as possible, and the lubio herb would suffice, a strong effective painkiller and sedative and always part of their kit, as life on the road was fraught with many hazards, from animal bites to arrow wounds.

  Although the larger part of their goods were strewn on the ground, Rath found the medicine box still in place under the driver’s seat, and quickly brought it to Chadren, who lovingly administered a few drops to his wife’s lips while he sent both men off to start cleaning up and taking stock of the damage. Tomar, who cared for the animals, set off in search of the runaway samblars, which were probably nearby, as they rarely strayed far from their handlers. The other man began gathering the strewn possessions and repacking them ready for loading.

  Chadren stayed by Zula’s side, noticing the lubio begin to provide much-needed relief, but grimly conceding there was nothing more he could do, as it was obvious her life-energy ebbed with every passing minute. The contractions wracked her fading body for the next two hours, as the baby struggled to make its way into the world.

  As dawn broke, one life ending, another beginning, he was delivered of a hale and hearty baby girl, thanking the gods for this one bright thing, while praying for his beloved wife’s soul, as she sadly slipped away from this world.

  He sat silent, tearless and exhausted amid the debris of his life, holding tenderly in his arms a tiny newborn dark-haired, violet-eyed daughter, squalling at the top of her lungs for milk.

  Chapter One

  (Fifteen years later—year 855)

  The monthly traders’ market in Splendo, which spread over three days, was a colourful, chaotic jumble of life. Many races, cultures, and individuals met, traded, and sometimes clashed in this melting pot of activity. The hubbub of street sellers calling out their prices, buyers bargaining loudly, and people chattering mingled with ethnic music in a strange symphony. On one street corner, an ornately dressed musician was playing a rare, stringed instrument hoping for a few coins from passers-by. On the opposite corner, a baker-woman was selling crusty fresh bread, next to a stall where bamboo-skewered fish from the Northern Lakes was frying, the aromas tantalising the taste buds of all who passed. Fruit sellers were offering samples of ripe pekunis and sweet vellonberries. Next to that, an old farmer was weighing some labno cheese for a customer.