30 Day Image Prompt Competition - August

Day 21 Image 2 - The Firestar

Unable to sleep, Caillen pushed open the tent flap and walked across the sand to stand on the lakeshore. He prayed the calm waters of the lake would soothe his tormented soul. The night air was filled with an orange glow from the sun as it passed at its closest to the planet. He stood watching the fiery orb as it slowly began its descent behind the distant mountains, feeling its fire reflected in his soul.

He wondered whether Jenna could see the sun from wherever she was. Was she, too, watching its fiery descent below the horizon as he was? He could feel his temper start to burn within him, his skin crawling as it changed to reflect his mood. His knuckles tingled with the emerging bone spurs pushing at his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he forced himself to calm down. This was not the time or the place to lose control. He owed it to Jenna to keep things together.

“You okay?”

He turned his head and saw Kato come to stand by him. He had shed his leather tunic and loosened the white shirt so that it billowed in the soft breeze. The stern warrior from earlier in the day had been replaced by the carefree Kato he had known as a youth.

“I’m good, just wishing it was dawn,” he replied, his eyes returning to the setting sun. Tomorrow they would set out on the final leg of their journey, to the Temple of Isir, where K’rall had taken Jenna.

“It will come soon enough, then you will be wishing the day was over.”

Caillen chuckled to himself causing Kato to look enquiringly at him. “It is funny how we wish our lives away, always wanting the next day to come even though we know are days are endless.”

“True. I guess we are always chasing the dawn, seeking out our prefect day.”

“If I get Jenna back then I will have my perfect day, and hopefully more prefect days to come.”

“When you get Jenna back,” Kato corrected, sensing his friend’s despair over his partner’s captivity. “We will not let you down, Caillen. Jenna will be returned to you.”

“I hope so.” Caillen wished he had his friend’s optimism and confidence but for once it was sadly absent. He had a feeling that tomorrow’s confrontation with K’rall would be the final decider between them but that it would unleash something he had tried so hard to keep hidden within his very depths. His control was almost at breaking point and he feared what might happen should it snap. All he could pray for was that they would be able to rescue Jenna, safe and alive so that he could concentrate on K’rall.

Kato placed his hand on Caillen’s shoulder, his touch gentle for such a big and powerful man. “Go and get some rest, Caillen. We will face the dawn together, as we have always done.”

Caillen watched his friend return to his own tent before turning back to stare at the setting sun. Its fire seemed even brighter this evening, turning the emerging stars into flakes of gold that glowed against a russet background. He could feel the orb’s power melding with his own, sending flickers of heat throughout his body.

“You have the power of the universe at your fingertips yet still you insist on the power of your blade to fight your battles.”

“And you should have years of wisdom to teach you not to sneak up on a soldier unless you wish to feel the power of his blade,” Caillen replied, his arm reaching behind him and emerging with a dagger which he held to Martog’s throat in a movement so seamless that the dagger seemed an extension of his arm.

Martog’s eyes met Caillen’s and he smiled, ignoring the blade that rested a hair’s breath away from the tender skin of his throat. “My wisdom told me you would not hurt me with your blade.” He flicked a glance down at the blade as though reassuring himself that Caillen would not press home the lethal tip.

Caillen stared at the placid features of the old man who had been the middleman between himself and his father. He wondered what the old man was up to as he sheathed the blade in the holster at the base of his spine. “What do you want, Martog?” he asked. “Or should I say, what does my father want?”

“Always so suspicious, Caillen. I may have wanted to visit with you on the eve of your battle tomorrow,” Martog replied, watching as the other man’s eyes narrowed, the pale amber starting to heat up in their depths.

“Do not tease, old man, for my control is stretched to breaking point and you do not want to see what happens when I lose it,” he warned, taking a couple of steps away from Martog as he sought to rein in his temper. He had never known it to bubble up so close to the surface as it was that evening. Maybe it was reacting to the setting sun, or maybe it was the threat of tomorrow, stirring it up to a dangerous level.

“I have seen you almost lose control, remember, Caillen? Those days at the academy when the other boys used to bury you over your
father and how you would react to their taunts. You always retained some shred of control over your temper.”

“And it was just a shred,” Caillen growled, unwitting to dwell on those memories. They came from a dark time in his life that he would rather forget. A time when the beast within was always challenging for supremacy and pushing him to the limits of his juvenile control.

“Did you ever wonder what would happen if you led that ironclad control slip?” Martog’s face revealed nothing of his thoughts behind his query yet Caillen knew his father was behind the strange questions.

“Why? Is he bored? Wanting to save the world from his evil grandson?” Caillen shook his head. “Well, sorry, Martog, but I’m afraid he’ll have to go somewhere else for his entertainment.”

“You’re powers will only be destructive if you allow them to be. You are a strong man, Caillen of Navarre. Strong of mind as well as body. Trust in yourself, my boy, trust in yourself.” Martog nodded to him before melting away into the darkness of the night.

Caillen stared after him until the darkness swallowed him up. Let his control slip? The old man must have been drinking too much of that strong red wine to believe what he did. For as long as their was breath in his body, Caillen would never relinquish control over his beast. No matter what K’rall did tomorrow, the beast was staying caged.

With his resolve firmly in place, Caillen wheeled about on the spot and returned to his tent. It would soon be dawn and he was determined to be as ready as possible to face whatever K’rall threw at him. He owed it to Jenna at that.


As dawn crept over the mountains, a paler creation compared to the spectacle the night before, Caillen was dressing in his tent. He had slept in fits and starts, Jenna’s face floating through his mind every time he had closed his eyes. At the back of his mind was the icy thought of something going wrong in the battle today. He had done all he could think of to ensure their victory and Jenna’s return. Now was the time to see if they had done enough.

“Bring it,” he whispered to himself as he stared towards the mountains where K’rall was waiting. “Find out what happens when you cross Caillen of Navarre.”