Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Soul ❯ Eternal War ( Chapter 1 )

Fire Soul

Chapter One

The people of Hyrn had been at war with their enemy for so long that they no longer knew what they were called. Some called them the Firebrands because of their unique power to manipulate the flame and the ultimate havoc that they caused with it. Others called them the Destroyers because of the same reason. Others kept quiet and would never speak about their enemy, pretending as if they didn't exist. Mainly though they were called the enemy, for that was the name that fitted them the best.

Hyrn was the home of the Psychics, were the power among the people was that of the sixth sense and extra sensory perception. For centuries before the Psychics and the Firebrands, for the lack of a better name, had lived together in peace. Only the oldest among the two races knew the story of why war was declared between them, and the stories were twisted to blame the other. Therefore no one knew the true reason and the bias made them all hate one another even more.

What everyone knew, if they wanted to admit it or not, was that thousands of years before Hyrn was the magic capital of Terra. All people on the island of Terra were sorcerers and sorceresses and there were no quarrels between them. Then the skies had opened and great showers of fire rained down onto them. Whoever the fireballs touched became changed, cursed with the powers of the element of fire. Or so that was how the Psychics put it.

The sorcerers had tolerated the new Firebrands, after all it was not their fault, but that had all changed with a single death. The people of Hyrn feared the flesh-eating dragons. For a year their Prince travelled around his kingdom and when he returned he was showered with praise for the eighteen green-scaled dragon tails he brought back with him. The Firebrands, however, believed the dragon to be a sacred animal, the source of their gift, and so that night the Prince was murdered.

There was outrage among the people of Hyrn when they found the scorched body of the Prince the nest morning, and no amount of explaining could stop their anger from driving the Firebrands further and further back throughout the years until the fire people found themselves cowering behind the purple mountains far to the east of their former home.

The years past and the unspoken war continued. The wizards' gifts were changed with the departure of the Firebrands. Their powers became those of the mind, the sixth sense, telekinesis and the ability to read minds. Still, they would not forgive their enemies though the everlasting feud had no cause to the children. The two races were too different.

However, there was one thing that was threatening them that was out of their control. With each generation the powers of the children were growing weaker. There were families in Hyrn with no powers at all, and something had to be done about it. How could the wizard families let their powers be diminished when they were at war?

*

The cool winter wind blew around the shadowy abyss, unaware of what dwelt inside the crevice of the towering mountain, somewhat purple in the approaching evening. As if hiding, a somewhat shoddy and decrepit looking castle was situated within the shadows. The rough dark and purple stones once belonged to the mountain, but now they twisted up in odd angles, forming towers that spiralled up further than the human eye could see, containing equally twisted and hidden corridors and rooms. Tall archways framed the entrances to the castle and small windows were dotted across the never ending stone. This castle was the home to the Firebrands.

A solitary figure stood upon the battlements, letting the breeze ruffle her brilliant flame coloured hair as she looked across the distance at the far city of Hyrn. She herself was far too young to have ever known what life was like in that city, but her grandfather had not been. He had been the King of the Firebrands when they had been cruelly driven out of the city. He had passed his throne onto his son, her father. Now she awaited the news that she wanted to hear.

Slowly she closed her burning amber eyes and could sense someone approaching. There was still a hint of Psychic blood in her veins from when her great grandfather had married a Psychic girl, but she hated the gift. She wanted to be pure, to be completely of the fire.

Snarling, she opened her eyes, shaking her head as if trying to stop the feeling. She turned quickly and narrowed her eyes as the red headed messenger cautiously approached her. "Your father, madam . . ." He trailed off.

"He's dead." It wasn't a question. She knew. The messenger slowly nodded. She smiled and turned back to look at the village of Hyrn. She cared about her father's death because she was the next Queen of the Firebrands. She didn't feel his loss at all in any other way. It was common knowledge that Firebrands could not feel love in any sense. She did not love her father, but it did not mean that she never respected him.

"Long live the Queen," the messenger said under his breath, and she could sense him bowing. Growling, the Queen swung around, wanting only to clean herself of the power. The messenger pulled himself up quickly, startled. Shaking her head again a slow smile spread over her lips.

"The royal family is important to the Psychics, aren't they?" she asked. The messenger looked around, unsure whom she was speaking to.

After a time he said, "Yes, your Majesty."

The smile on her lips did not falter. "Well, then," she said, "I give my first order. Go tell the warriors to invade Hyrn and kill the royal family."

Bowing, the messenger hurried away to deliver the order. The new Queen hurried away into the castle towards the room of the wise man, running down twisting corridors. Slowly she pushed open the heavy door and entered the room.

"Ah, your Majesty," a little man said as he quickly pulled himself up from his seat and bowed in one motion. The Queen barely nodded.

"Now that my father has gone, I want you to try and find out what is making the power of each generation weaker."

"But, your Majesty, your father -"

"He had the wrong ideas about our situation," she interrupted. "He was foolish enough to think that we and the Psychics would actually come together in harmony, but I at least can admit to myself that we need to be stronger than them, not weaker."

Quickly she brought up her hand towards the wise man and a small fire spark began to burn on the top of her finger, not even burning the pale skin beneath it.

"Is this a power strong enough to be able to defeat them?" she asked coldly. Slowly the wise man shook his head, knowing that he himself had more power over the fire in his own body. "Good," the Queen said. "So we agree. Now, find out why our power is dying out so that we can beat them!"

*

"What do you mean?" Gayla Droga asked the small woman that had almost knocked her over as she hurried through the town shouting the dreadful news. "How can the Prince and Princess be dead?"

The small woman was on the verge of tears when a large crowd of interested villagers began to surround the couple, murmuring different rumours between themselves, their usual pattern of shopping and cleaning interrupted by the news from Hyrn Castle.

"I heard they were killed -"

"Wild dogs -"

"I heard they drowned!"

"I heard they were only attacked. They're not dead!"

"It was the Firebrands."

This last comment made them all freeze and their chatter died down, for the person who had spoken was the small woman, a messenger from the castle.

"What do you mean, 'it was the Firebrands'?" Gayla asked, taking a step of disbelief away from the sniffling woman. "How could they get into the city without anyone noticing them? Why would they want to kill the Prince and Princess?"

Suddenly the whole crowd burst into murmurs of disbelief and horror as they talked wide eyed to each other. It was true. The betrothed lovers were dead.

"A small army of warrior Firebrands managed to infiltrate the city," the small woman sobbed. "They seemed to be looking for the royal family, to kill them, but the Prince and Princess were out walking in the hills. They met them first . . ." She trailed off, bringing her apron up to her face as she began to sob wildly into it.

Gayla shook her head sadly. The small woman didn't need to say anything. Her wild sobs said it all. "It must have been a warning," she muttered under her breath, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "They've killed three of our royal family already. The only consolation is that they will be re-born."

Gayla started as she felt something tug at her long brown dress. With sudden realisation she looked down at her two-year-old son, his large grey eyes looking up at her in confusion and his arms outstretched. She bent down to pick him up. He felt stiff in her arms.

"Mummy," he said, looking at her with wet eyes, "what's re-born?"

The small woman beside Gayla began to sob again as she looked at the small boy and a few of the villagers around her had tears in their eyes too. Gayla took a small step away and looked down at her son.

"When a person . . . leaves this world," Gayla said gently, "they do not completely leave. We all have a soul, Keane, a special part deep inside us that helps to make us who we are. Do you know what I mean, Keane?"

The small boy nodded his head, but Gayla wasn't sure if he did actually understand. "Anyway," she continued, "when someone dies their soul lays in waiting somewhere and then chooses a new body to be reborn in. I have the soul of a young wizard in me who died centuries ago."

Keane's eyes widened in horror. "Mummy is wizard?" he asked. For the first time Gayla let herself smile since the awful news.

"No, darling," she said. "The soul is almost . . . asleep," she said gently. "It cannot control you, but it can influence you. The soul passes from person to person down throughout the ages, but each person is different. The soul can give you special powers, like mind reading, and can influence your career, or the person you love. When two people are soulmates their souls will influence the people and they may love each other too."

Keane looked puzzled for a moment. Then he smiled and began to jump in her arms. "Princess come back?" he asked. Gayla nodded. With a large grin on his face, Keane lay his head against his mother's chest and closed his eyes.

Gayla looked at the small woman, who continued to sob every now and then. Most of the villagers had drifted away from her with grief on their faces. Although Gayla was upset by the news of the murders, she was also concerned. If the Firebrands could get into Hyrn and kill royalty, who was to say that they wouldn't infiltrate the villages. She feared for her son's fate. Holding him tightly she made her way back to her home.

*

The wise Firebrand man took off the small feather hat grateful, scratching his balding head. He had been among the villagers of Hyrn, trying to find out why their powers were decreasing when he had heard news of the death of two members of the royal family. He had never heard of such behaviour and he knew that it was the new Queen.

He sighed as he placed the hat on his table. He had been a firm follower of the last King and had high hopes of peace between them and the Psychics. Now the new Queen had ruined the chances of that, and he was trying to help her create weapons against the Psychics.

He had the information now and he was quite sure that he knew why the powers were diminishing. It was all thanks to one young mother telling her son a simple tale, and it would inevitably destroy her family and friends.

The wise man didn't know what to do. He had to tell the Queen what he knew, for pain of death, but to betray the Psychics.

"What do you know?"

The voice startled the wise man and he turned to see the Queen in the doorway. Slowly he bowed, trying to empty his mind of all betraying thoughts, but her angry face told him that she already knew.

"Your Majesty," he said, as if startled. She narrowed her amber eyes.

"Tell me what you know," she said again.

There was nothing that he could do. She had a small power, the ability to sense things, and she had found him out. Swallowing, he bit out, "I know why the powers are becoming weak."

"Why?" she asked simply, not moving from the doorway as he offered her a seat.

"Well," he began, "to Psychics believe that when a person dies their soul is re-born in another person -"

"A foolish idea."

"Quite." He paused. "Anyway, this soul can influence a person's skill. We all know that when we die our bodies become the fire we are born from which joins the almighty fire and therefore the powers of others of out kind. I believe that when a person contains an old soul and the power of fire then they combine to become a great power."

"So what you're saying, then," the Queen said, "is that the reason all our powers lasted so long is because of the children being born of both Firebrand and Psychic blood? You mean that if we were never given the power of fire then we would all be powerless?"

"I believe so, your Majesty," the wise man said. "It may be a reason for our creation."

After a long silence the Queen nodded her head. It was clear that she had been in deep thought. "Well, then," she said, "there's only one thing to do." She paused. "I have to go out into the wastelands and find them."

"Who, your Majesty?" the wise man asked, confused.

"Them," she said simply.

*

The wasteland was a desert, nothing more, and nothing less. The Queen's feet burnt from the heat of the golden sand, even though she wore sandals made of terk hide. She closed her amber eyes and the small grains of sand blew against her pale face, her flame red hair blowing gently behind her. She took another step forward, approaching the last known home of those who had been driven out of Hyrn. They were those born of both blood, the link between the Firebrands and the Psychics, and the only known weapon that would destroy them.

No one had heard from these of mixed race since the beginning of the war, generations ago, but deep in the back of everyone's minds they knew where to find them. She was one who knew, and she was the first who was trying to find them.

After hours of walking through the desert she came upon the place where they lived. There was nothing there, only the remains of what was a simple village. There were two small huts, a fire long extinguished and spears, crude weapons, lying unused on the sand.

Slowly the Queen exhaled. Although unwanted, a small tingling began at the back of her mind and something told her to turn. A small sand storm had started and when she turned she saw the sand before her gently blowing away to reveal a thick slab of stone. It was marking a grave and she knew it. As she watched the wind blew more of the golden sand and it lifted, like a blanket, to reveal a hundred more slabs of grey rock. The Queen walked towards them, around them, and knew that something had wiped out the people. It was probably starvation.

However, her race allowed her to feel no compassion. The deaths were a loss to her, of course. She had lost approximately one hundred weapons that could have brought about the defeat of the Psychics.

Snarling, the Queen turned around and began to head back towards the castle, to her home. Her trek had taken hours and had resulted in nothing. Now she had to go about acquiring her weapons the hard way.

The Firebrand walked across the burning golden sand with an idea forming in her mind. Behind her she left the mass grave of a hundred people, and she didn't care. No one did.

*

"But the trek could not have been a complete waste of time, could it, your Majesty?" the wise man asked the weary Queen. Slowly she raised herself from out of the torn and uncomfortable velvet chair, shaking her head so that fiery locks fell over her face.

"No, it wasn't," she admitted. "I still know everything that you told me, all the information that I need to know in order to gain my ultimate weapon. You told me this, and I have been thinking. I think that you have been as useful as you ever will be, and that has left me wondering."

"Oh, what about?" the wise man asked, shaking a little. It was obvious that he was nervous, and the Queen began to smile.

"Well," she said slowly, pausing, "it doesn't do for a Queen to make herself seem weak by keeping a traitor in her midst, and I know that you're a traitor."

"A traitor, my Queen?" the wise man asked, trying to unsuccessfully look as if he had no idea what she meant.

"Yes, wise man," the Queen said, "or should I call you the unwise man? You are no actor! You let it slip a long time ago. I knew you never trusted in my ideas of war, but it doesn't matter." Slowly she took a step towards him, taking a small dagger out of the sash tied around her waist.

"Why not?" the wise man asked, eyeing the dagger wearily.

"Because," the Queen said, "you've told me all I need to know."

Suddenly the Queen leapt forward onto the man and he cried out in horror as she raised the dagger high above her head, laughing, and then brought it down so that it sliced awkwardly into his flesh.

*

Gabriel felt as if he were the happiest man in all of Hyrn. He knew that he shouldn't, especially after attending the funeral of the beloved Prince and Princess, but he couldn't help it. His new wife Reena hung affectionately from his arm as they made their way back to their home.

Just the day before they had been married and only two days before then they had met. The courting was short, but after Gabriel had met Reena he had felt something click. Most Psychic courtings were short due to their belief in soul mates and Gabriel wanted to spend as much time as he could with Reena.

They had met accidentally in the market square when she had dropped a basketful of apples on the ground before him and he had dropped down to help her. As soon as he saw her amber eyes he had fallen for her. He only had a small psychic power which seemed not to be enough to read her mysterious mind, and Reena boasted none either. After spending the whole day together, and the next, she had consented to be his wife.

With a smile on his face, Gabriel looked down at Reena. She wore the strangest clothing, a long white dress, where dark coloured were usual, and a headpiece that covered the hair on her head. He did not even know what colour her hair was, but it didn't matter.

He paused as they reached their new home and began to search in his pockets for the key. With a brilliant smile on her face, Reena held the key up to him. He smiled back as he quickly turned the old key in the lock and pushed the heavy oak door open.

"What a sad day," Gabriel said as he closed the door behind him. "I still can't believe that the Prince and Princess are dead."

"Let's not worry about it," Reena said soothingly. "We can't change what happened. Besides," she added, with a grin, "they're going to be re-born again anyway."

"I suppose that you're right," he said, lowering his head. "But the day for others will be spent in mourning. What will we do?"

"Oh," Reena said, taking his hand, "there is plenty more for us to do." Slowly she led him into her bedroom and closed the wooden door behind her.

*

The Queen of the Firebrands lay in silence for a time, listening to the quiet breathing of her husband beside her. Two days before she had come to Hyrn on an important mission. That night she had completed what she had set out to do.

Slowly she sat up and loomed over the sleeping figure of her husband. Her hand moved across the bedside table beside her and she wrapped her fingers around her small dagger. It would have been easy to kill him.

She released her grip on the dagger. What was the point in killing her husband if it would cause even more panic to the rest of the village? She had to make the people of Hyrn unprepared for an attack. She had to let them relax their guard.

Quickly she slipped out from under the thin blanket and pulled her cloak over her head and around her shoulders. She didn't love Gabriel. Of course she couldn't. Her whole race wasn't capable of it.

She slipped out of the room quietly. Quickly she ran across the village square and away into the darkness where no Psychic could follow her. She was free of the pitiful village where her ancestors once lived and she wondered what they saw in it. When the Firebrands won the battle they would not capture this place for a home. They would only capture it because it was the home of their enemy.

Sighing, the Queen of the Firebrands headed towards the purple mountains. In a few hours time she would be home. In a slightly longer time she would have the weapon that she sought.

How ironic it was that the trusting Psychics had delivered to her the thing that would destroy them, and it was a child that under any other circumstances would have belonged to them. She laughed as she disappeared into the distance.

*

Everyone in Hyrn was taught about the soul when they were five years old. It was at this age and this age only that the village psychic would be able to tell the child who's soul dwelt within them. Now that the children were losing their power this was very important for them to find out why. Knowing who's soul you had also helped a child to understand themselves and the gifts they have.

Three years after the deaths of the Prince and Princess, Gayla Droga took her son Keane, now five years of age, to the local psychic. It was growing harder and harder for the village to find a psychic with actual powers, but luckily enough Waya, a particularly powerful sorcerer, had agreed to tell Keane about his soul.

It was every parent's wish to have a child with great power, for this brought honour to the family, even if it meant that the child might be taken from them. Keane was reluctant to let his mother leave him, but it was essential that he wouldn't be distracted.

"I'll be back soon, honey, I promise," Gayla said to her son, kissing him on the forehead and then quickly leaving.

"Don't be afraid, Keane," Waya said, taking one of his small hands in hers. "What I am going to tell you will be very important for you, your mother and your life ahead of you."

Keane quietened down at this, wanting his mother to be proud at him. Smiling, Waya said, "Close your eyes. That's a good boy. Now . . . just relax. Don't think about anything."

Waya closed her sea green eyes and focussed towards Keane. She could see a faint, silvery outline of him in her mind. She could see his colours, she could feel his thoughts. They were so strong and real inside her that they felt like her own. Gulping, she focussed even further more into the boy, and suddenly . . .

Waya gasped as she opened her eyes, struggling to breathe. She greedily gulped in the oxygen around her. Her lungs were burning, as if she had been trapped underwater. She looked around the room desperately and then focussed on Keane. He looked back at her unblinking with no emotion on his face. It unnerved her.

She had felt such a strong presence in this small boy that it had physically knocked her back out of his mind. She had felt some of his character traits before being shocked. His desire for peace and harmony, of being alone. She knew who's soul it was, but she couldn't believe it.

"Keane," she said, her voice shaking. "I need to ask you some questions, alright?"

The small boy looked at her with apologetic eyes and Waya could sense his guilt at thinking that he had hurt her. "Don't worry," she said, trying to do her best at stopping herself from shaking. "I'm not hurt."

Keane seemed very relieved at that and slowly he nodded his head. "Do you like being by yourself, Keane?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, beginning to fidget, "but I'm not going to be alone for long."

"Is that because your mother's going to pick you up?" she asked comfortingly. Keane shook his head.

"No," he said. "It's because I'm going to have a little sister soon, a little princess."

Waya looked up sharply in confusion. "Did your mother tell you this?"

Keane shook his head again. "No. I just know. I can hear her voice talking to me. She told me who she was. She said she would be here in a long time."

Waya felt as if someone was squeezing her heart. "You can hear her talking to you?" Keane nodded again.

"Hello?" Gayla said as she stepped into the room. "Have you finished?" She caught the look on Waya's face and said, "What's wrong?"

~TBC~