The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 26

A Trial of Fire

A mist made of shadows danced around Alexander’s feet as he stood listening to the shrieking scream that came from somewhere in the distance.
“Hello?” Alexander called, his voice quivering with fear. “Who’s there?”
He waited, but no answer came from out the darkness. Fear was taking over all his senses, betraying him to what he was certain would be death. Cautiously, he took a step forward, or at least he tried. His mutinous legs refused to carry him any deeper into the darkness. The scream sounded again from its unknown corner, but this time, instead of frightening him, it spurred him to action.
“Are you okay? Where are you?” Alexander screamed as he ran forward through the veil of nothingness.
“That thing does not need your help, Heir of Magic,” a feral voice said from just out of Alexander’s peripheral vision.
“You are the one who requires help, Phoenix King,” a louder voice said at his other side.
Alexander spun around, ready to fight. He drew both his swords, but froze in horror as he noticed that all that remained of the swords were their hilts.
“It is futile, Alexander,” the second voice said with deadly intent.
“You cannot fight without weapons,” the feral voice continued.
The scream echoed through the darkness again, more lethal than before, and it sent shivers running down Alexander’s spine.
“Time is running out!” the feral voice shouted as a white wolf stepped out of the darkness baring its fangs.
“You cannot run from us forever!” the deadly voice of the black wolf agreed as it launched itself from the shadows, ready to bite into Alexander’s arm.

Alexander panted as he sat up on his straw bed, shaking and soaked to the bone. He sighed and got to his feet before moving to the open door to feel the cool air on his sweat covered skin.
There is something different about these dreams, Alexander thought as he watched the rain fall outside. The dream of that dark place with the two wolves kept coming to him at night. They’re too vivid and taxing, too visceral.
Alexander stood in the doorway for a long while, allowing his mind to wander as night continued its struggle to maintain its hold on the world, aided by the dark black clouds that covered the sky. The village was entering its wet season, though this only meant a few nights of rain a month.
A bolt of lightning illuminated the night sky, and a crack broke the silence of the night. Alexander’s heart fibrillated with fear as a wolf howled in the distance, bringing the nightmarish dream back in vivid flashes. He was just about to reach for his sword when another bolt of lightning illuminated the Palace of the Pride, revealing the werewolf standing on the boulder painted with the white lion on the cliff. Merrick stood tall; his arms held out to his sides in an inviting gesture.
“Merrick?” Alexander whispered to himself and without thinking, moved out into the storm. It took him an hour to fight his way passed the gale-force winds and torrents of rain to the top of the cliff where Merrick stood. As he reached the top, he shouted out over the sound of the storm.
“Merrick! What are you doing?”
Merrick stared at Alexander with his golden eyes. He leaped down from the giant boulder. His werewolf fur was drenched, giving him the pungent smell of wet dog.
“Alexander,” the giant wolf said in its growling voice. With obvious pain, he started to shift back to his human form. Within seconds, a naked Merrick knelt before Alexander, steam rising from where raindrops fell on the newly formed skin.
“I suppose old habits die hard,” Merrick explained.
“What old habits?” Alexander asked, wiping his drenched face free from the clinging hair.
“My everlasting quest for death. Ever since my first failure to take my own life, I have always believed that if anything could kill me, a bolt of lightning can. Since then, whenever a storm was raging, I would find the highest point to tempt the lightning to strike me down.” Merrick said.
“But you’re in control now. I heard Geteye tell Chaka how he thought you were ready for the test the other day,” Alexander shouted over the wail of the wind.
Merrick did not answer immediately; he just stared at the ground, shaking his head. He gestured for Alexander to follow him, and together, they made their way into a small nearby yield in a rock face that shielded them from the rain. Once they reached their desired location, Merrick pulled on a pair of woolen trousers and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“You feel guilty, don’t you?” Alexander said.
Merrick nodded. “I suppose that is an accurate summation.”
Silence fell between the two friends as they both felt the reality of those words.
“I can’t take it, Alexander,” Merrick said.
“Can’t take what?”
“This thing I am!” Merrick shouted. Silence fell again and stretched on for what felt like an eternity. “This beast killed my wife and my child. I have spent years trying to kill it, but now all I can do is become it…And I like it,” Merrick said with disgust.
“The Chief warned it would be addictive,” Alexander offered.
“I know that, but at the time I was sure my disgust for what I am would stop that from happening. I was certain it would not happen to me. But I was wrong.”
“Merrick, it’s not your fault,” Alexander said. “What that form is, is nothing more than just a sharp sword. Swords in the past have killed families, slaughtered children, sliced through wives. But swords have also saved many lives. It is not the weapon’s fault for how people wield it.”
“Would you carry the sword that killed your mother around with you?” Merrick snapped. “Would you cherish the weapon that took her life?”
Alexander looked away for a second. “A sword didn’t kill my mother, Merrick. But I carry the weapon that slew her with me. And I cherish it.”
“What?” Merrick said, shocked.
“Magic killed my mother, Merrick. You see; it’s not the weapon that deserves the blame. It is the wielder. In that manner, you have already killed the beast. It’s not in control anymore—you are. From what Geteye said the other day, the beast can never again take command. Therefore, it is dead.”
The two men sat in silence beneath their rock shelter until the clouds dissipated completely. Merrick looked sullen and thoughtful, but Alexander was caught up in his own web of desire now. As was happening all the more frequently of late, his thoughts wandered and obsessed on his renewed lust for power. Enough power to destroy Cain.
“So why are you up already?” Merrick finally broke the silence as the sun started to rise.
“Bad dreams again. I’ve had them every night since the proving, always the same dream, and always more real than reality itself,” Alexander said a million miles away.
“Sounds like you’re describing a soul echo, not a dream,” Merrick said.
This grasped Alexander’s attention again. “Soul Echo?”
“Yes. It’s a legend said to come from the dragons. Haven’t your people heard of it?” Merrick looked shocked, as if Alexander not knowing this was as foolish as a child not knowing that eating rocks was bad for their teeth.
“Primoris has a bad relationship with dragons,” Alexander said with a shrug.
“Well, it’s all based on one concept. The dragons believe that certain events, certain bundles of information, have such a profound effect on a person they can ripple through time, not only forward but also backwards. The soul is not bound by certain rules of reality, such as the flow of time, so theoretically, it has already experienced the beginning and end of your life and all that will take place in-between. The bigger the event, the bigger the ripple, and thus the bigger the reaction of your soul. That could be what you are experiencing in your dreams. If you can call them dreams at all.”
“You’re saying I see the future?” Alexander asked incredulously.
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Merrick said, shaking his head. “In a manner of speaking, these events have already taken place, your physical form just haven’t perceived or experienced them yet.”
Alexander stood in silence, absorbing these words. But the rumble of beating drums interrupted his thoughts. The sun was rising over the horizon, and the Palace of the Pride was rising with it.
“What’s going on?” Merrick asked.
“Don’t know.” Alexander shrugged.
“We had better get down there and find out,” Merrick said, moving to the edge of the cliff.
Once Alexander and Merrick made their way to the bottom of the cliff, the entire pride population greeted them, dancing and celebrating with Chaka and Geteye standing still at the head of the procession.
“Finally, you two decide to join us,” Geteye grumbled.
“Now, now, Geteye, it is their day.” Chaka smiled, then seeing the expressions on Alexander and Merrick’s faces he added, “Both of us agree the two of you are ready for your tests.”
Alexander and Merrick stared at each other incredulously, then turned their gazes to their teachers.
“Merrick, you will receive the trial of control,” Geteye said as if Chaka had never even spoken.
“And you will walk the trail of fire, Alexander,” Chaka added.
Neither Alexander nor Merrick spoke, they just nodded.
“Merrick, you are to transform into your wolf form and endure. Endure the attacks of all in the village. I will allow you to block and run, but you are not to fight back. The natural inclination of the wolf inside you will be to lash out at anyone who attacks. If you can resist this primal urge, you will pass,” Geteye explained.
“And you, Alexander, have to walk into the desert, with no weapons at your disposal. You are only to use pyroturgy for the course of this test. A scout will monitor you from a distance to make sure you abide by this rule. Do you understand so far?” Alexander nodded, and Chaka continued. “You are to venture into the desert and slay a scorpenox with a higher rank than that of the worker. Preferably a warrior class. Once you have slain the beast, return the shell to the village to pass your training.”
At first, both Alexander and Merrick just stood there in complete shock. But then Geteye shouted, “Well? What are you two waiting for? Begin!”

How strange, Alexander thought as the sun reached its zenith. Just a few hours ago I was looking for shelter from a storm, now the ground is so hot it feels like it’s cooking me.
The thought reminded Alexander of the dryness that had formed in the back of his throat a mere hour outside the Palace of the Pride. With no time to prepare for the sudden journey, he had no provisions with him other than the clothes on his back. With a sigh, he wandered forth, in search of the giant scorpion creatures. Luck did not favor him on his first day of travel; not once did he see any sign of life, neither fauna nor flora. The lifeless trend of the desert continued into the second day, and then, into the third.
“This is ridiculous!” Alexander shouted at the stars on the fourth night. My angelian blood might keep me alive without food and water for longer, but I still need sustenance to fight, he thought, pouting as he sat down at the top of a dune. He stared out over the rapidly cooling landscape. Somehow, no matter how hot it got during the day, it always seemed to be even colder at night.
With a perfunctory effort, Alexander ignited a small portion of his aura and a flame flickered into life between the palms of his hands. It danced hypnotically in mid-air, providing the heat needed for survival. It was risky to summon the flame; he had chosen his position at the top of the dune for the very reason of being able to see everything for miles. This meant the fire would also be seen for miles, betraying his position to all who might wish him harm.
At least I’ll see them coming, Alexander thought. A small part of him welcomed the idea of an attack. Anything to see another living creature again, but nothing came that night except for sleep and the dream about the two wolves. He had the dream so often of late, it was getting boring. He had grown so used to it he no longer shook awake as the wolves attacked. This brought an unexpected change to the dream. For the first time after the wolves bit him, he remained asleep. After their teeth had sunk into his flesh, they kept saying the same things repeatedly.
“I am the shadow of chaos,” the black wolf growled.
“I am the ghost of order,” the white wolf snarled.
“Say our names,” the two said together.
Alexander yelled, “Your names are—”
With an explosive force, Alexander was flung out of the dream and down the dune. A scorpenox tried to attack me in my sleep, he realized as he came to a stop at the bottom of the dune. With disappointment he took in the large pincers of the scorpenox worker. This was not the end of his test.
The sudden awakening from the lifelike dream made Alexander groggy and slow to react, and that was the only edge the creature needed. The giant claw came down on his head like the blow from a hammer, and the impact caused his vision to swim in and out of focus as the other claw closed around his foot. With a jerk, the creature dragged him down into the ground. It was a disorienting and claustrophobic few seconds before Alexander regained control of the situation. He focused his mind on bringing as much of his thaumaturgic energy out of his body as he could manage.
“Burn!” Alexander growled as he ignited his energy.
It was utter chaos. The flames were everywhere, burning and expanding rapidly. The sand that had surrounded them mere seconds ago was blown away, replaced with scorching flames. Alexander tried to manipulate the flames away from his body, but he had gone overboard. He could not control these rage-fueled flames, and now he would burn along with the beast. The pain was excruciating as the flames licked his bare skin, and the beast that still clutched at his ankle screeched in protest at the sudden pain and doom that surrounded it. Then, it was over.
At first, Alexander’s head spun out of control and he lost awareness of what was around him, and then, there was a smash as his body hit the ground again. He remained where he had fallen, his vision swimming in and out of focus as pain ebbed and flowed through his arms and face, the heat of the sun just aggravating it. He felt like a fool as he thought about how he had lost control of himself. Anger is like fire, an out-of-control fire that will destroy the wielder as well as the enemy, he heard Chaka’s voice in his head.
Nearby, a loud screeching noise brought Alexander back to himself, and ignoring the pain from the burns on his arms, he rolled to his feet. He was in the middle of a large crater of glass. The source of the screeching noise was at the bottom of the crater a few feet away. About twice the size of a scorpenox worker, the scorpenox warrior stood over its fallen brother. Its shell was dark red and its pincers were far smaller than those of its comrade, but it made up for this deficiency with two tails that ended in stingers.
Alexander tried to back away without drawing any attention to himself. At his current state, he would not stand a chance against the beast. When the scorpenox was out of sight, he threw caution to the wind and ran for it. Twice he tripped in his haste to get over the nearby dune and away from certain doom, but before he even reached the top, he heard the screech of the warrior behind him.
Daring a glance over his shoulder, Alexander saw the charging beast bearing down on him, pincers snapping and stingers ready to kill.
Looks like I’ll have to fight, Alexander thought. There’s no way I can outrun this thing.
Steeling himself, Alexander turned to face the charging scorpenox, but to his amazement and shock, the beast just ran past him. He could not understand this, from everything the people of the pride had taught him about the scorpion creatures, they never turned down an opportunity to fight.
Against his better judgment, Alexander gave in to his curiosity and followed the creature. As he reached the top, his current predicament became apparent. He wasn’t standing atop a dune at all, it was a mound from a scorpenox hive. Everywhere he looked, there were fleeing scorpenox workers and warriors racing away from the hive.
That’s odd, Alexander thought. Why are they running away from their home?
The answer came as one worker ventured too close to the hive, and a giant red spike shot out to impale the beast. The explosion had awoken something.
The ground shook as the hidden beast broke free from the hive to inspect what was making the racket. It emerged from the sand, like some sea monster rising from the ocean, it gave a roar that seemed to echo off the sky itself. Alexander realized what he was facing. Chaka had shown him a tribal drawing of this creature: the scorpenox king. Gigantic, with an armored shell of red flecked with gold, it resembled a cross between a scorpion and a praying mantis. It had the body, head, and arms of a mantis and the legs, shell and six stingers of a scorpion. As the gigantic beast shook the sand from its head, it released another roar that shook the desert and the sand beneath Alexander’s feet gave way. He slipped and the cascading sand carried him to the bottom of the dune.
The scorpenox king noticed him and tilted its head to one side. When Alexander came to rest, he stared back at the creature, not daring to move for fear of provoking it. Unfortunately, the beast had already decided whether Alexander was a friend or foe. It released another ground-shaking roar as it attacked with its mantis-like arms.
Sand rained down on Alexander as he barely made it out of the way of the attack. The beast followed its first attack with another three, each missing its target by a hair’s breadth.
Panic flooded Alexander’s mind as he tried to think of what he would do to save his life this time. The reaction came as the beast raised itself to roar in frustration. As the beast shook its head in anger, Alexander drew as much air into his lungs as possible, almost choking on the dust the monster’s attacks had stirred into the air. Drawing on the energy he had stored in four argentari, he sent a concentrated wave of fire at the scorpenox king and it struck the creature in the chest, licking up at its face with what should have been excruciating pain. However, the beast did not even seem to feel a tingle. In fact, all the flames did was push it back and prevent it from attacking for a few seconds.
The Scorpenox struggled against the wave of flames pushing past the blast, closing in on its prey. It was all Alexander could do to stay alive. His mind was racing, searching for solutions while his strength and body were fading.
If this much fire can’t stop this thing, what can? Alexander thought. The beast in front of him let go of another roar of frustration as he gave one last push with the torrent of flames before he broke the wave. He closed his eyes and focused on everything Chaka had ever taught him about fire. Everything rushed through his head as time was speeding up again.
Alexander snapped open his eyes and drew all the energy from the last of his argentari, focusing it all into the palm of his right hand to form a ball of flame concentrated into an area no larger than a peach pit. A pulse ran through him as he used the power, he drew directly from one source connected to him, and the flame changed. It froze and sped up at random intervals, changing color with every fiery spasm.
Alexander raised his right hand, pointing the sporadic flame at the scorpenox king and let it go. The flame launched with such force that it sent a shock wave through Alexander’s body and into the ground sending a wave of sand in every direction. The flame flew too fast to see. One second it was in his hand, the next it exploded out of the scorpenox king’s back in a fountain of emerald flames. The impact with the creature sent another shock wave through the air that cracked like a thunderbolt.
Shadows started to frame Alexander’s vision and he fell to his knees as his body no longer had the strength to keep him upright. The scorpenox king gave one last moaning groan as it collapsed, its massive bulk crashing down on the man who had killed it.
In an oddly disconnected manner, Alexander realized the seriousness of the situation, but his body was so tired it would not move and his mind felt sluggish, almost as if it were observing the events from a distance.
The scorpenox king hit the ground with a loud and heavy thud that caused the ground to crack and give way. Instead of being crushed, Alexander fell into an abyss of darkness, clutching desperately at the body of the scorpenox king as the two of them tumbled into the shadows and disappeared.