Chapter Thirty six:
Firo
The luck we’d had outside the castle must have been used up, because as soon as we left the servant’s quarters we were spotted by a soldier. Dagan dodged his first thrust, letting it bounce harmlessly off me. He used the delayed reaction to grab his wrist, twisting the sword out of his grip. The soldier used his other hand to punch Dagan in the gut, making him back off. It didn’t matter though, because now Dagan had a weapon. There was only enough time to glimpse the elf’s manic grin before he circled the sword and swung it, cutting the soldier’s head clean off.
‘Was that really necessary?’ I asked, feeling sick.
‘What are you complaining for?’ Dagan laughed, that manic grin still on his face. ‘Now you don’t have to worry about fighting.’
That proved to be true. Dagan was relentless now he had a weapon, using all his natural stealth and agility to his advantage; cutting down soldiers before they even realised we were there. He almost seemed disappointed when we reached the hidden passages, allowing us some respite from attacks as we moved further into the castle’s depths.
‘Firo has always been kept in the deepest depths; a large dungeon room reconstructed especially for her. It’s why so few knew she was here, even though it’s been two hundred years.’
‘But how do we get her out?’
Dagan shrugged.
‘She’ll have to break down the ceiling, if she’s strong enough. She’s too big to go through any doors. Or we’ll just take control of the castle to keep her safe.’
I gave him a disbelieving stare, not liking where his train of thought was going.
Can I really let this guy get his magic back?
The passage sloped down and we automatically fell into a jog. With every thud of our feet my heart pounded, physically feeling the distance from Firo closing. She was so near…
‘Why keep her alive this long? Why capture her in the first place?’ I asked, voice strained with tears.
‘It’s probably better you don’t know.’ Dagan said quietly, voice filled with guilt. ‘Let’s just focus on getting her free.’
‘Yeah, about that, how do you plan to fight the King exactly?’
Dagan just grunted in answer, turning a sharp right that led to a dead end. He began examining the wall, using the sword to search for cracks.
He doesn’t have a plan, I thought with dread. He’s just going to rush at the King and get himself killed.
‘Dagan,’ I started.
‘Ah, here it is!’ He grinned, dropping the sword and wedging his fingertips into a large vertical crack. He pulled, forcing the hidden door to groan open. Immediately Dagan picked up the sword and charged into the room beyond.
My sigh of exasperation was swallowed away when her overwhelming presence hit me, drawing all other thoughts from my mind. I charged in just as blindly as Dagan.
The room was huge, the same width as the whole castle above it, with the ceiling high enough that two Firo’s could have been stacked on top of each other and still not reach it. But it was cold and damp, the air so oppressive that I immediately wanted to turn around and leave.
Little one! Her voice screamed, filled with both dread and overwhelming hope. She was chained at the centre of the room, with no leeway to move on her own. Dried blood stained her scales and the floor around her. The far right corner contained her excrement pile, the smell overpowered everything else. The left corner was filled with buckets of blood.
I took a step into the room, bringing my hand to my mouth to stop myself gagging.
‘So, you’ve finally come.’ A voice from behind me spoke, making me spin to look in the closest right corner. I saw Dagan do the same, his grip on his sword so tight his knuckles were white. ‘Chosen one of Firo.’
The man looked in his thirties, with long black hair that hung loose, reaching his mid-back. His eyes were the same brown as his son’s. Even here he wore an elaborate gold crown and royal robes that trailed on the ground.
‘I won’t let you steal her power. Either she passes it to me, or it passes to Berthilda.’ His cold voice boomed, black mist already beginning to form around him.
Little one, please come here, quick!
‘You’d try and trap Berthilda instead?’ Dagan laughed, drawing the King’s attention. ‘You really are a fool, Edward. Will your greed never stop?’
‘So my trade piece returns.’ The King smirked. ‘Did you enjoy your exile with Earl and the rest of my children? Perhaps I should have just drained your life away; you’ve been a constant pain in my side for two hundred years.’
‘What children?’ Dagan laughed. ‘Or have you been too blind to use your other magic? All your children, grandchildren and close relatives are dead, slaughtered by Earl. Now I only have to kill you and him to wipe out your line!’
The King’s smirk fell away, but no grief or pain entered his eyes at the news of his children’s death.
‘Be my guest with that treacherous Earl, but you will never touch me, slave!’
Dagan sprang forward, faster than any human could have moved. The dark magic surrounding the King began to change, from its lazy mist form into sharp, black icicles. Dagan didn’t slow down as the King launched them, dodging them all neatly.
‘Watch out!’ I screamed just as dark shadows shaped like spikes shot up from the ground near Dagan, almost skewering his feet. Dagan flipped into the air, readying his sword to aim at the King’s chest.
He would have landed a killing blow easily with the momentum behind his leap, if it wasn’t for the mist. The sword stuck halfway into it, like mud, then stopped as if stuck in stone. Dagan growled, his feel swinging down and landing against the wall of mist. He cried out in pain, letting go of the sword and falling to the ground, where the dark mist began to circle him.
‘How disappointing; is that all you have? You really are nothing without your magic, farry.’
Dagan didn’t reply, trying to crawl away from the mist, but already too weak to stand.
‘Dagan!’ I screamed out, taking a step towards them.
‘Ah yes, I almost forgot about you.’ The King smirked. The more blood Dagan seemed to cough up, the more energy the King gained. ‘Draining your life with my magic should give me quite a boost with her power in you.’
‘Do not touch my prey.’ A deep voice boomed, making us both turn to the hidden entrance Dagan and I had entered from. If I was terrified before I had no words to express the new level of fear coursing through me, seeing Ignatius standing there, his fiery eyes fixed on me.
Even the King seemed taken a back, but cleared his throat as he straightened, letting his dark magic pulse as a warning.
‘What business does a fire immortals have here? Do not interfere.’
Even as he spoke a wolf darted towards him, making him step back. Immediately vines began to grow around the dark mist surrounding Dagan, absorbing its darkness. The vines shrivelled away, leaving Dagan exposed, his skin holding a black tinge to it. The wolf grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him away from the King and dumping him near my feet.
‘You’re too late to save him.’ The King laughed. ‘The dark magic has already entered him.’
I frowned down at Dagan, shaking my head.
No, he’s wrong.
An image of the symbol burnt onto Dagan’s chest flashed in my mind. A moment later Dagan’s eyes opened and he heaved violently, retching up black, thick gunge that looked like tar. Even the King watched, astonished as the pile grew, forcing me to back away. His heaving and retching didn’t stop until the darkness on his skin was gone. Ulmar transformed into his human form, pulling Dagan back so he didn’t fall in an exhausted heap on top of the gunge.
‘That’s impossible.’ The King gaped.
‘Hardly.’ A new voice spoke. Earl stepped out from behind Ignatius. Amergin was following him, staring at Dagan with wide eyes, looking at his own dark veins. ‘Obviously he’s been given a resistance to magic. You underestimate Firo’s influence, even if it is just through a candidate.’
Both Dagan’s and Amergin’s eyes looked at me, Dagan’s with confusion and Amergin with fury.
Oh…so I guess that’s what the symbol does. I thought, trying to look like I wasn’t as surprised as them.
‘Earl, what are you doing getting involved with immortals? Are you mad? Whatever deal you’ve made, they will never honour it.’
‘Is this you begging for your life?’ Earl taunted, a delightful grin on his face. ‘Don’t worry Father, they won’t be the ones to kill you; they’re just going to help restrict your magic for me.’
‘Hurry up!’ Ulmar growled at me, pulling Dagan to his feet. ‘Go to her, before it’s too late!’
‘I-’ I began, but a sudden burst of fire halted my words. An infernal circle trapped the King, his dark magic beating at its sides, but disappearing without any effect.
‘No mortal magic can complete against an immortal.’ Ignatius scoffed. ‘Not even yours.’
The fire circle grew tighter around the King until his magic was only a thin coat protecting him from the flames. Earl was moving closer, and I saw Dagan staggering forward, picking up his abandoned sword.
‘Earl, stop this!’ The King gasped, the smoke choking his words.
‘You don’t deserve the power you have!’ Earl spat, watching as the last of the King’s magic was swallowed by the fire. ‘I think it’s time you let another inherit it.’
With a slight flick of Ignatius’ wrist the flames were gone, and both Earl and Dagan charged forward, driving their swords through the King.
King Edward only managed one half-gasp before all breath left him; his two hundred year reign finally ending.
As soon as his body slumped to the floor dark magic burst out of him, hitting Earl and Dagan, knocking them flat on their backs. I stopped breathing.
No, no! Not both of them!
Earl was the first to rise, laughing with pure, manic joy as he stared at his hands. Wisps of dark magic were already leaving them.
‘Finally!’ He crowed, looking straight up and grinning. ‘I’ve finally surpassed him.’
‘Congratulations.’ Ignatius said, sounding bored. ‘King Earl.’
‘Why?’ Another voice spoke, the pain and anguish plain for all to hear. ‘Why didn’t it work?’
Dagan was sat up, staring at his hands with angry tears running down his face.
‘My magic, why hasn’t it come back?’ I killed him too, some should have come to me…’
‘Because I willed it so.’ I said, my voice ringing out so all looked at me. ‘You were never going to get it back Dagan, not after I burnt my symbol into you. If you’d killed the King alone, that foul magic would no longer exist in the world.’
Dagan stared at me, his disbelief turning into fury. He wasn’t the only one. Amergin was stalking towards me, finger raised and pointing.
‘You could have healed me all along!’
I didn’t bother explaining I hadn’t known that. I hadn’t known the full extent of Dagan’s symbol until just now. It wasn’t that it protected him from magic; it just refused any magic to enter him, to be a part of him. Illusion magic would no longer affect him because it influenced the senses. Dark magic attacked by entering a person and draining their life force. Although, I think even my mark wouldn’t have saved Dagan from another dose of it.
You changed his destiny to save him. Firo spoke, sounding weak and desperate. And you can do that for others, if you’ll accept your fate. Come to me, little one.
I was vaguely aware Ulmar had moved, blocking Amergin and Dagan from me. I turned away, walking at last towards Firo, the person I’d known better than myself for seven years.
I am here, I said, placing a comforting hand on her neck. I came to save you.
Ash was beginning to fall around us, not in our usual field of ash, but in the physical world. Every speck that touched me burnt my skin, even with my scales.
But you understand now that can’t be. She said softly, ash touching and burning her too.
Yes, I understand.
I am sorry, little one. I wish I could have passed on my power under better conditions, but it was not meant to be.
The ash was beginning to ignite, the flames licking at our flesh. I winced at the pain, trying to ignore the smell of burning skin.
Like me, you will be trapped. But I know you’ll find a way to break free one day. Just be strong, little one. If anyone can change this world, it is you.
What do you mean trapped? I screamed through the agonising pain, not sure we even had bodies anymore.
I’m sorry. Was all she said.
It was the last thing she ever said to me.
I don’t know how long passed; it felt like millennia. I slowly became aware of my body, heavy and awkward. All around me was the soothing feel of ash.
I reached an arm out, breaking through the ash pile. Then my lungs remembered the need for air, forcing me to scramble to the surface and breathe!
I took in huge gulps of air, my eyes taking a while to focus. Slowly the blurred surroundings began to clear, showing me Firo’s underground prison in Tempit.
…I’m still here? I thought, dazed.
‘Finally.’ Earl’s voice broke through my tranquil state, making my gaze shoot in his direction. ‘I was beginning to think you were both dead.’
I frowned, looking around. Everyone was still there. Dagan was slumped to the floor, head bowed in defeat. Amergin was beside Earl, sneering at me, and Ignatius hadn’t moved from the hidden entrance.
Ulmar was to the left of the ash pile I sat on, not daring to touch it.
‘Did it work?’ Earl asked, turning to Ignatius.
‘Let’s find out.’
I ignored them, distracted by my skin as I stood up, fully naked.
I was human again. My skin its once natural olive colour. No scales, or wings, or horns.
And yet I didn’t feel human. I felt ancient and powerful, but contained, like it was locked away somewhere I couldn’t quite reach.
An excruciating pain ran across my left jawline, making me gasp and fall to the floor. I raised my hand to it, feeling a long scar line soaked in fresh blood.
What the?
‘Looks like it works.’ Came Ignatius’ smug voice.
I focused properly on them then, seeing for the first time the blood vial in Ignatius’ hand. It was open, with Ignatius stabbing a pin into the blood.
My blood, from when I was constantly drained in Lar.
Firo warned me, I realised, feeling cold. She told me never to let them have my blood.
‘We may not know your real name.’ Ignatius smirked, ‘But this is just as good.’
No…
Like me, you will be trapped. She’d said.
No!
‘Well done, Ulmar. This would never have gone so smoothly without you.’
I turned a startled gaze to the earth immortal, who just shrugged, staring at me.
‘No problem, Master.’
What?
‘You really thought you could escape Lar so easily? That you entered Tempit and the castle with luck?’ Earl laughed. ‘We always planned for you to meet Firo and take her power. Father spent centuries trying to control her, but even with her blood she was too strong. But you, a mere human replacement.’ He grinned, eyeing the vial in Ignatius’ hand. ‘Our suspicion was correct.’
Even Dagan looked shocked at this, his pale skin deadly white as he looked at Ulmar, hurt. Ulmar didn’t even glance at him.
‘And so, as promised.’ Earl continued to Ignatius. ‘I hand this slave to you, as payment for your help.’
‘And I accept it gladly, King Earl.’ Ignatius smirked, standing closer to me. ‘He will be a very useful slave for our future plans.’
I’d like to say Firo’s last words were true, that I would be able to break my eternal enslavement and change the very fate of Ombasa.
I’d like to say that, but that mystery lies in another story.
This one ends here.
The End
Scribbled Thoughts 