The Golden Phoenix of Namorak

This is one installment of a story that will actually take up more space but I can only upload this small amount for the time being. Bare with me. I have little free time and a lot of things to do so this is what I have of the story thus far:

~*~

Namorak. A land bathed in sunlight. In the beginning, there was Namorak. Everything was peaceful. The Eternal Emperor was kind and wise. The priests served the peolpe and the gods. There was never draught, never famine, never floods, and never death.

Then, the peace was destroyed. First came the death of the Eternal. The people, whose very lives were linked to the Eternal, began to die with him. Disease appeared. Greed. Hunger. Poverty. The land turned black. Chaos took over.

The priests were the last to abandon the cities of Namorak. Looking back one last time upon the charred, dead land, they vowed that they would return. The land of peace would exist once more. Eventually.

Trisita Vak Retori, cursed be you. You shall pay for the crimes you have committed here.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing had grown here in ages. The land was coal black. They got off their horses and looked around. "What do you think happened?" Tiro said.

Kirrenna took a few steps forward and reached into a pouch tied to her waist. She felt the different stones with her fingers. Each one had a symbol carved into its perfect skin. She found the right ones and called up the Elvin power within her. The land wavered and she saw glimpses of a city. The images were seen as if on a heat wave, so some things were hard to make out...faces, for one. But the people dressed in brightly coloured clothing, the buildings were made of a glistening white material that shone in the warm sun. She could hear the echo of past distant laughter.

She released the stone and the image disappeared abruptly. The dead landscape before her was a grave contrast to the happy place she'd seen in her vision.

"This was a part of Namorak," she said. "Probably one of the border cities. Chaos would have erupted here before anywhere else, because the priests here were not as closely linked to the main temples in the City of the Golden Phoenix. They had to receive orders from the temples and that could take days. In the space of time it took for the first set of orders to reach this city, the priests had no doubt already lost control of the people."

She bent down and ran her fingers along the black earth. They came away smudged with ages old ash that would always plague this place.

A series of emotions came to her, faded and wavering like the images of her vision. "The land here is frightened and confused under its death. Fighting broke out and not long after the fire destroyed this place. There is no feeling of doom though. This place must have been one of the first, if not the first, places the fire struck. It's not like the other place we came across before. That place had known what was coming. It had a feeling of hopelessness. Its fear was different. This land...this land was afraid of the unknown."

Tiro's eyes grazed the land. "It looks so dead," he said. "Nothing but black desert for miles around."

Kirrenna stood up and wiped her hands off on her pants. "Whatever," she said. "Are you quite finished yet? I want to get back to the shelter before it starts to rain."

"It never rains in these parts," Tiro said. Kirrenna looked to the sky. You're in for a bit of a surprise...

"Besides," Tiro continued, "We've got hours until nightfall. Tell me more about this place."

Kirrenna rolled her eyes but looked out at the land once more. The place felt strongly of death. But the land, underneath all the black, was still alive. Waiting. This was why she wanted to leave. A place like this...it pulled at everything elf inside of her. She wanted this land to live. In the Wildlands, it was a bad thing to want something so foolish.

The Wildlands. She wasn't in the Wildlands anymore. They'd crossed the ocean and come to this strange land to find Namorak. She hadn't stepped foot out of the Wildlands since leaving the Islands.

"We're going back," she said. Tiro glared at her but she ignored him and returned to her horse. Mounting, she shot him one last glance. "You have a choice. Either you come with me or I leave you behind. A storm is brewing. Trust me on this." She turned her horse back in the direction of the town they were staying in and started back. A few moments later, Tiro came galloping up beside her.

"I always trust you!" he said. "That you should think I would do otherwise is offensive..."

Kirrenna couldn't suppress her smile. "You're funny," she said.

~*~

Outside a storm raged. Kirrenna wrapped her freezing fingers around a mug of hot cider.

"This is why I always listen to you, Kirre," Tiro said. "You always know what you're talking about." There was a hint of sadness to his voice.

"Don't worry, your blackened land will still be there tomorrow. That land hasn't seen a drop of rain since before Namorak fell. The storm won't reach there."

Tiro turned away from the small window and came to sit beside her. "Why did we have to leave then?" he asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Because I will not spend the night where there is the remains of such death. Even if you don't count the land itself, the people that left their impression on that place." She shivered, remembering the first and last time she'd slept where a great deal of death had occurred. "I wanted to get back before the storm hit the town so we wouldn't be stranded out there," she said.

Tiro fell silent. She could tell from his distant expression that he was daydreaming about Namorak. It was all he'd thought about since they'd been caught in a sandstorm in the Tomi Desert. One of Kirrenna's stones had fallen out of the satchel she kept them in. Both she and Tiro had reached down to grab it up at the same time. The reaction had been an instant vision.

The two of them were on a patch of dead land much like the patch they'd seen that day, except it was much wider, and there were the remnants of old buildings...temples and a great palace. Flashes of incidents had come to both of them. A peaceful land...a perfect land...then, panic. A great funeral. Petty fighting. A darkened world, people in rags with sickness-riddled bodies, starving, begging for food, water, anything. Finally, a fire that burned so hot the very buildings themselves were destroyed...save for the once-great temples, and the palace of the first dead man, a palace turned tomb...

A curse whispered upon the air around them in the vision. Trisita Vak Retori, cursed be you. You shall pay for the crimes you have committed here.

To Kirrenna, the land had cried even louder than the dying, starving people. It cried of its fear, begging her to save it from the end that was coming.

Tiro had been obsessed with the land ever since. When he'd heard myths of a land that paralleled what they'd seen, he'd demanded they go searching for it. And they'd found it.

"You're brooding," a soft voice said. She pulled out of her thoughts. "I can tell. You're frowning hard, and you can't stop moving your thumb in circles."

As soon as he said it, she stopped her thumb. She prided herself in having complete control over her body. It didn't move unless she told it to.

Kirrenna stood up.

"Don't be angry with me," Tiro said. He put an arm out to stop her from walking away, and began to caress her thigh with his hand. "You know I don't mean to offend you."

She nodded absently.

Perhaps she, too, was obsessed with the vision. It puzzled her. Her stones weren't supposed to show her anything unless she called for them to.

Holding her cider in her right hand, she placed her left hand over Tiro's. "I'm sorry," she said, looking at the wall. "I don't know what's wrong with me." She thought about that. "No," she said. "I do know."

"What is it?" he asked, pulling her close. She looked down into his green which eyes, let his red hair catch her vision for a moment.

"Everything," she whispered. She slammed the cider onto the table and pulled away from him. She had to get ouf of there. Downstairs.

Drunk.

She hurried out of the room before he could stop her or say anything, not even stopping to grab the Elvish sword she carried everywhere with her. The only weapon on her was her dagger, tucked into her boot. It was of no use to her down there, but...she didn't have much of a choice. Staying long enough to grab another weapon would have meant giving Tiro a chance to respond, and if he responded...

~*~

"You cannot hope to survive in the Wildlands, Kirrenna. You'll die there."

"That should make you happy," she said, shoving the last of her clothing into her sack. She grabbed the one thing she had from her mother, a sack of old magick stones engraved with Elvish symbols. Those she tied to her belt, on the opposite side from her sword.

"Indeed it will," he said. He was leaning against her doorway, watching her pack, his arms crossed over his chest. The hard lines of his face held hatred in them. Hatred of her.

"You're a fool."

She looked up at him, her face a blank mask. "I know what dangers I face in the Wildlands. I can survive. And if I cannot, then so be it. Fear not, though. I shall never return to you. Not unless the Earth wills it. And even then it will take much coersion.

He screwed his face into a look of disgust. "What makes you think you can do as no other elf can? Do you think the lawless people of the Wildlands will hesitate to exploit your weaknesses? You can fight, but you need the ground beneath your feet to survive. They have no need of simpering plant lovers like you. They'll kill you the first chance they get. After everything I taught you, you choose to die by the hand of a human in the forsaken lands to the southeast. You put me to shame."

She pulled the string tight on her sack and swung it over her shoulder. She had enough coinage to get her to the Wildlands and to put her up for a couple of weeks in a low cost tavern. If she played her cards right she would be working by the time her money ran out. In those places, fighters, especially assassins, were always in high demand. In a land where the rich rule not because of a government but because they can pay others to enforce their laws, it was every man to himself. Or, in her case, woman.

She walked past her father and her brothers, who had been waiting in the room beyond. They all gave her saddened eyes.

At the door, she turned back one last time.

"You put yourself to shame, Father," she said. "I need not do it for you." And she left.

~*~

She’d been trying for ages to get drunk as humans did, but she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t reach that state of mind the humans reached, where nothing matters at all. She’d had enough ale to kill a human, and her body had neutralized it all.

She pulled herself up from the bar stool, dropped down a few coins, oblivious to the amount, and left the tavern. The cool night air greeted her. The storm was calming down. All that was left now was the wet of the ground and the icy wind. Kirrenna didn’t like being out here without more weapons. This was the kind of stupid behaviour that could get her killed.

I’m not in the Wildlands, she reminded herself. In the Wildlands, it could get her killed. Not here.

She looked up at the half hidden moon and started walking. “Lead me,” she whispered to it.

Voices carried to her on the winds but she paid them no heed, reveling in the fact that for the first time since she’d left the Elvin Islands, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder, waiting for the next person with a knife and a use for her money to attack her.

Her body started reacting to something it didn’t like. Perhaps this was why elves didn’t drink…

She doubled over in pain. Her head felt as if it were splitting. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her vision blurred, and disappeared. She could hear nothing but the beating of a drum. Her heart.

What was wrong with her?

Frantically trying to think through the fog covering her mind, she reached to her boot and pulled out her knife. She made a small cut on the inside of her hand, and brought the blood to her mouth.

It tasted of poison.

Her body was fighting off an assassination attempt. But who would try to assassinate her here? She had watched the innkeeper the entire time he’d been getting her ale. He’d never had a chance to put something into her drink. Okay, drinks, there had been many.

Then how?

The poison started to leave her system. Her vision returned first. She saw her blood bleeding from her hand a strange purple colour. She squeezed it until it started coming out red. The headache started to withdraw, and after a few minutes, she was able to stand up.

There was nobody around her. The place was deserted. Something felt wrong, and it put her on guard.

She reached into her pouch and touched one of her stones, and whispered the word.

A flat ground lay out before her, covered in tall, green grass. She looked down and saw a gravestone. Written in the common tongue was the name, Tirolin d’Nasaie. Under that, in Elvin, were the words, I’m sorry.

She released the stone stepped back, the vision lingering in her mind’s eye. She turned and ran back to the inn, pushing people aside to get there as fast as she could.

The place around the inn was calm. Cautiously, she entered.

It looked as if everyone had fallen asleep peacefully on the tables. In the corner was a small girl. No, a young woman. She was small for her age, but she was probably fifteen years old. Kirrenna walked over to her. “When did this happen?” she asked. The girl shook her head and Kirrenna kneeled down. “Have you been upstairs yet?” Kirrenna tried. The girl sniffed and shook her head. “It…this…it just happened. Recent.” Her face grew frantic with fright. “Please don’t let them hang me!” she whispered.

Kirrenna took the girl into her arms. “Come,” she said, drawing the girl up with her. “We have to get Tiro.”

The girl clung to Kirrenna’s arm as they walked carefully up the stairs. Kirrenna’s single knife was in her hand. She wished it were her sword. The entire tavern had been poisoned, and based upon the colour of her poisoned blood, it wasn’t an accident. Someone wanted everyone here to die.

She crouched down and peeked around the hallway. There was nobody there. She stood and motioned for the girl to follow. It was eerily silent here.

The girl grabbed her sleeve and held her back. Kirrenna turned to her. “Don’t,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong?”

The girl hesitated.

“Just tell me,” Kirrenna said.

“Fighting,” the girl said. “There was…sounds…of fighting. I was supposed to go check it, when people started slumping over their seats. I…I checked everybody’s pulse. Everyone is dead! Everyone!”

Kirrenna looked towards Tiro’s room, her eyes wide. She pulled out of the girl’s grasp and ran towards the room. The door was unlocked. Tiro would have been asleep at this time, and he would never have slept with the room door unlocked. He’d lived in the Wildlands all his life.

She opened the door and pushed it wide. Everything was scattered out across the room. The table she’d been drinking tea at had been upturned; the chairs were destroyed and thrown all over the place. The bedding was strewn across the ground and the bed itself had been sliced open.

Tiro was nowhere to be seen, but her weapons had been placed in the center of the room, on the only clear patch of flooring.

A sharp intake of breath behind her made her look back. “Oh, no,” the girl said.

“Look at the room next door,” Kirrenna ordered. “See if the same thing happened there.”

The girl nodded and left to obey. Kirrenna turned back to her weapons and fell to her knees. She saw the tombstone in her mind. I’m sorry…

The stones showed the past, present, and future, as they happened. Some stories told of a million futures, but there is only one future. Even if you know it will happen, you cannot stop that future from happening. In some cases, trying only made it happen.

Kirrenna already knew that whatever she tried, she would lose him. Whatever her final decision was, whatever path she followed, she would lose him.

She spilled out the stones on the floor. There was one other stone, that when placed with the future stone, could show you a path you wanted.

“The other rooms are empty,” the girl said, back already. Kirrenna turned to her. “All of them?”

“There are only three other rooms. I looked real quick. They ain’t, messed up, or anything, but empty. I…I think the renters were in the bar…”

Someone had killed off the entire tavern full of people. “Come,” Kirrenna said. She picked up the two stones and set them aside as the girl kneeled beside her. She packed up the other stones, and took all her weapons and armed herself. She stood up and went around the room, grabbing all of her and Tiro’s belongings, and set them up.

“If you hear someone come in downstairs, come to me and take these two stones out of my hands, do you hear? But only if you hear someone come in. Take the stones from my hands and put them in this pouch.”

The girl nodded.

“Okay.” Kirrenna placed the stones in one hand, leaving her palm open, pressing the symbols downwards, so they were touching her skin. She whispered the words and the room faded from sight.

~*~

Kirrenna was in a forest clearing. She looked up at the sky and checked the positioning of the stars. She could tell that she was in the northern tip of the Wildlands. This was a place she rarely came to.

Two figures came running past and Kirrenna stepped into the shadows of the trees. The first figure moved like an elf: smooth, graceful, and fast. The second moved more like a human who didn’t run very much. It’s breathing was laboured, and it tripped.

“STOP!” it…he…cried. The elf turned to it.

“Get up. Do you think those men are going to stop chasing us just because you ran out of breath? Do you think once they catch us, they’ll let us get a head start again because you tripped? Get up!”

The second person lifted his head. The hood of the cloak fell back to reveal blonde hair, wary blue eyes with dark circles under them, and a skeletal face.

“Who are you?” he said, pulling himself to his feet.

“Kirrenna Kass,” the elf said.

“What do you want with me? Why did you save me?”

“Because, I need a partner,” she said.

The vision disappeared abruptly without giving her the information she had been looking for, and she was left reeling. “They’re here!” a frantic voice whispered in her ear.

She remembered the dead tavern. She heard people downstairs calling for the head of the murderer. Someone shouted that the wench of a daughter of the tavern keeper couldn’t be found.

The girl gave Kirrenna wide eyes.

“Grab those,” Kirrenna said, pointing to Tiro’s pack, sword, bow, and quiver. His knives were tucked away in his pack. She helped the girl get the scabbard on and toss the quiver and bow over her shoulder, as heavy steps came up the stairs.

Kirrenna grabbed the girl’s wrist and led her out of the room. The man came around the corner in time to see them.

“I found two of ‘em!” he cried. More steps stomped up the stairs. Kirrenna and the girl ran the opposite direction. There was a back staircase down to where the girl and her father slept. Kirrenna and Tiro had scoured the place for escape routes after buying the room.

They got downstairs and ran out the back entrance.

"This way," Kirrenna whispered.