30 Day Image Prompt Competition - August

Day 14 Prompt 2 - Fire

K’rall growled with frustration as he pushed the leather bound volume away from him and reached for another one. Somewhere in one of these blasted books was a spell that would enable him to control Caillen’s demon. Finding it was the problem, as it was buried within the reams of ancient text. Bony fingers opened the next volume, yellowed fingers following the line of text as he translated the ancient words.

A knock sounded against the door to his chambers, hesitant as though the caller was fearful of entering K’rall’s rooms. A frustrated sigh slipped through K’rall’s bloodless lips as he leant back in the high carved chair.

“Enter,” he barked, his yellow eyes glaring in annoyance.

The door swung slowly open to admit Elias, the latest priest to serve as his assistant. K’rall had no use for the young priest, finding him as weak and insignificant as all the others who had preceded him, but he needed an assistant to help with his research.

“What do you want, Elias?” he growled.

“Sorry to disturb you, my lord,” Elias began, his voice shaking as it always did in K’rall’s presence. “The First Commander has arrived and is ready to report to you.” He refused to meet K’rall’s gaze, fearful of the anger the sorcerer was sure to express when the commander made his report.

“Good, send him in. I’ve been awaiting his return.” A grim smile twisted his features as he waited for the commander to join him.

“You are not First Commander Aurdelis,” he stated before the young commander could speak. He flicked his wrist towards Elias, dismissing him without a word.

“I-I know, sir, but First Commander Aurdelis was killed on the mission and I was promoted to First Commander in his place. I’m First Commander Lavaar.”

“Caillen gave you a hard time when you captured him?” K’rall asked, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepling his fingers. “I understood that he was weakened from expanding so much energy to get his companions to safety.”

“He was, sir, but he still put up a major struggle. Three men were killed in the capture of Caillen of Navarre,” he paused and swallowed as though he did not want to impart the rest of his report.

“I’m surprised your commander fell in such a trivial fight. Perhaps he was not as esteemed as we were led to believe.”

“First Commander Aurdelis was not killed in the capture,” he began, his voice fading at the harsh look on K’rall’s skeletal features. “Caillen’s companions returned to rescue him and the commander was killed in the fight with them.”

K’rall leapt to his feet, his chair sliding back several feet before crashing into the wall behind him. The room seemed to vibrate with the anger emanating from K’rall as he stalked around his desk and came to stand before Lavaar. “What do you mean “rescue him”? I assume that you did everything you were asked to do before General Natar was due to rendezvous with you?”

Lavaar’s head bobbed up and down in a jerky motion. A faint bead of perspiration dotted his forehead and across his top lip as he resisted the urge to run from the room. “We subdued Caillen and bound him after bleeding him to keep him weak. We travelled to the Bascari Springs where we made camp to await General Natar. Whilst in camp we continued to weaken Caillen as instructed so that he was unable to use his powers. He was tied up and the chords enchanted as you instructed.”

“How did he get free?” K’rall could feel his frustration growing with the young commander. How could his most experienced troop let a weakened Caillen go free? He had briefed them all on the necessity of keeping him weak and had been promised that they would deliver him to K’rall.

“They attacked the camp by creating a diversion when it was dark. They doused the lights so that we could not see and created some sort of fog to envelop the camp. The guards on patrol could not see anything until it was too late?”

“Too late?”

“There was a warrior moving throughout the camp at speed. He killed the guards before we could even grasp what was happening.”

“That would be Dar. Go on, continue with your tale.”

“Those of us inside the tents tried to get out but we were pinned down by at least one archer, if not more. I’ve never known anyone fire a bow and arrow so quick.”

“And that would be Tao.”

“Two others went for Caillen. One of them fought off my men whilst the other tended to freeing Caillen.” The commander shuffled on the spot, knowing how poor his report was sounding – an entire troop defeated by four people.

“The fighter would be Kato but I do not know who the fourth person would be.” K’rall looked at Lavaar, his silence urging him to continue with his report.

“The fourth raider was slender in build, quite small when compared to the others. They seemed to know magic for they were able to break the enchantment and seal the entrances to the tents. We could not get out of the tents to stop them.”

“How did you get out? You must have done to see them take Caillen away.”

“We had to burn the tent to get out. The enchantment not only sealed the ties on the tent but also the stitchery on the panels.”

K’rall studied the young officer, seeing the healing bruises and the pinkened flesh, scorched by a great heat. The young officer had obviously not escaped unscathed. “Would you say the fourth attacker was female?”

Lavaar nodded. “Yes, it could very well be so. They all wore black outfits so it was impossible to tell.”

“Jenna,” K’rall breathed, his anger reaching white hot temperatures within him. “Did you follow them?”

“We tried, but they had run off our horses making it impossible to traverse the desert. By the time the General arrived their trail had disappeared,” Lavaar concluded. He stood before K’rall, his hands nervously pleating the ends of the sash he wore across his chest that portrayed his rank.

K’rall closed his eyes as he sought to control the rage rising within. At every opportunity he had been thwarted in his attempt to capture Caillen. Now Jenna of Tynan was involved, using her magic to further create problems for him.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the young officer stood waiting before him, his face reflecting the fear he was obviously feeling. “You may go now, Lavaar. Thank you for your service, even though you failed in your mission.”

Lavaar bowed to K’rall before making a hasty retreat from the room. Outside in the corridor, he took a great breath before continuing down the stairs to the door leading to the outside. He was glad that task was done.

Alone in his chamber a dark mood was descending upon K’rall. The air in the room became oppressive as he prowled across the floor to the window. As the wizened flesh tautened over the bony contours of his face, his eyes glowed with an unholy light as he stared sightlessly out of the window.

Fools, he thought, bitterness and anger clouding his mind, I am surrounded by fools too incompetent to carry out the slightest of commands. Their inadequacies to do my bidding thwarts all that I am working to achieve. I will not be defeated by them. I will find a way to conquer them and when I do, those who oppose and challenge me will feel my wrath and pay the ultimate price. Lady Jenna included for she has sealed her fate by allying with them.

With his fury once more raging within him he returned to the large oak desk to continue his reading of the ancient texts. The answer was within those pages, the key to unlocking the doors to all that he sought. He would find it, learn it, use it and be the master as he had been promised as a young priest taking his first vows.

His eyes followed the words upon the page but the rage within him would not be appeased by the reading. It portrayed over and over again the image of Caillen riding away from the encampment, Caillen stealing Jenna away when they had kidnapped her, Caillen thwarting everything he did.

His flesh glowed with the heat of his ire, the yellowed nails smouldering as the inferno raged until, with a savage howl, he slammed his hand down upon the text and surged to his feet in a move so powerful the heavy chair was once more flung backwards against the wall, the wood splitting upon impact. Storming to the door he ignored the books upon his desk, needing to be outside and away from the oppressive atmosphere in the room that fed his anger.

Elias, who had come running at his master’s cry, was savagely brushed aside as he opened the door to see what troubled K’rall. He watched as the master sorcerer continued down the passageway, his white robes seeming to smoulder with some invisible heat.
Thankful he was not on the receiving end of K’rall’s temper he entered the chamber to tidy away the evidence of K’rall’s outburst. A soul shuddering chill washed over him as he saw the open volume on K’rall’s desk, the small fire burning the fragile pages around the imprint of K’rall’s hand from whence he had slammed it down.

The evidence of the power of K’rall’s anger was enough for Elias to be thankful that K’rall had left the room for he had the uneasy feeling that if he hadn’t then he would not be alive to witness the power of his rage.

With trembling hands, the young assistant place a damp cloth upon the burning book and prayed for an end to this madness.