The Fires of War - Chapter One

Chapter 1

The ocean wind carried the scent of salt and a nearby fish market by the docks. It filled Consus’ nostrils as he walked with Kyran through the crowded street near the harbor of Denipoor. The closer they got to the docks, the stronger the odor of fish became. Consus pinched his face as he suppressed a gag.

Ships sailed along the shore and in the harbor. Carts rolled along the docks bearing crates, barrels, and sacks of grain to and from the ship. Livestock was herded off one vessel and into a nearby corral. Denipoor’s harbor was a center of trade; goods passed from through from the Southern Empires into the Northern Kingdom and vice versa. Coin flowed like a river through this city, from one purse to the next.

Consus flexed his shoulders as he followed Kyran. He was still tired from traveling. They had arrived in Denipoor the night before, and though he was relieved to be safe from Zamari’s army, he was very much tired.

"You are not going to the Valenforn without Ewan or Altin,” Kyran said. “Not after all we went through. We’re not losing you again.”

“I don’t even know that the elves will let me in,” Consus said. “They don’t let just any human into their kingdom. But it’s the only place I can learn how to control this magic.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You’re the smartest among us, except for maybe Altin. I’d go with you, but Alyss would kill me.” 

With Zamari defeated and the Pilgrim Stone in his possession, a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Karinne’s death weighed heavy on his heart though. If I’d been able to control my magic, I could have saved her.

“You’d only be bored,” Consus said. “I’m going to learn magic, not swords. There wouldn’t be much for you to do.” 

Kyran tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a dark brown ship that sat at the far end of the docks. “There’s your ship,” he said. 

The sails of the ship were tied and tucked away under the wings of the three tall masts. Sailors walked up and down the walkway with supplies. Several other men scrubbed down sections of the deck with large rough brushes. 

“They call it the ‘Shadow of Ilse,’” Kyran said. “The man I spoke to last night was the first mate. He said they had done some trade on the eastern side of the continent before. They set sail tomorrow morning to the Southern Empire and then further east. Take Leiwyn and Ewan. Introduce yourselves to the captain.”

Consus frowned as he studied the crew with skepticism. They were decorated with ornate foreign tattoos and scars. More than a few had crude piercings in their ears and noses. “Do they often take passengers?”

“Not often,” he said, “but for a steep price, they offer a safe trip across the continent. I know they look fierce but they shouldn’t give us any trouble.”

“We’ll know for certain when we speak to them,” Consus said. 

Kyran smiled as they turned and headed back to the tavern. “Listen to yourself, all tough and confident.” 

Consus rolled his eyes. They walked back up the street to the tavern. It was quiet this morning. Altin and Milo sat at a bench near the unlit fireplace. Kyran departed up to their room to pack and prepare for his audience with the king.  

“Where’s Ewan?” Consus asked Altin.

“He’s gone to purchase supplies and a root of some sort that he thinks will stave off sea sickness.”

“A root? He could save himself the trouble and walk across the continent instead,” Consus said.

Altin rolled his eyes and laughed. “Please, don’t think he hasn’t made that argument to us already. We’d be dead before we made it to the Valenforn on foot. I’ve no interest in traveling through goblin territory.”

Milo stood up on the bench. “Well, I, for one, am just glad to be making the journey. Think of the stories we could tell.”

Consus sat down on the bench, his staff leaning up against his shoulder. He caught Milo poking the gold feathers that swayed from the grip. “I’ve already enough stories to tell,” he said. “Dragons, elves, gods, magic. I could fill a library with my own stories.” He looked at his hands as if he expected a spell to spontaneously erupt from them. It scared him that something so powerful dwelled within himself, yet he had no control over it.

“The world has opened for you,” Altin said in a reassuring tone, much like their mother used to. “It did for me when I discovered my gift. Don’t be daunted by the task of learning deeper mysteries. If there’s anyone that could learn them, it would be you.”

“Was it like this for you?” Consus asked, rubbing his forehead as if to wipe away his frown. “This thing works when it wants to and not when I ask it. How can I be of any use?”

“Magic is not something learned in a few moments of spontaneity. It will take years of studying and practice, regardless of whether it’s divina or arcana.”

Consus recognized Kyran’s heavy march down the stairs before he saw him. He joined them at the fireplace wearing his finest red tunic and stood over the bench. “Well, Altin, are you ready?”

“Of course, I’m ready. I’ve been waiting for you.” Altin stood and gathered his staff and pouch. “We’ll see you this evening, brother. You should keep the staff instead of the sword.” He pointed to Consus’ staff. “It suits you. Wish us luck with the King.”

Consus waved as they both walked out the door. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Milo fidgeted on the bench. “I should go with them. They don’t know anything about court greetings, noble formalities, or even how to bow.”

“Milo, I don’t think Kyran would--” Consus began. It was too late. The halfling darted out the door of the inn after Kyran and Altin. He was too quick for him to catch. Consus couldn’t help but smile as he heard Kyran curse from the street. 

****

Synara smiled. We have arrived just in time. 

The white walls of Denipoor - only a mile away - were obscured by the magical fog she had conjured up. It hovered over the plains between Zamari’s army and the unsuspecting guards along the walls. We are ghosts to them — no more than a curious fog to their eyes.

Synara sat on her horse beside Dromedus among the cavalry with several more Children of Nemoth. She looked to him and saw a triumphant smile beaming through his beard. He deserves to be proud. He had been commissioned to move a large force over a great expanse of land. Zamari had praised him for devising an expedient solution.

“We’ll divide the army into two groups,” he had said. “The cavalry will ride to Denipoor with foot soldiers. Once the gates are destroyed, we’ll send the first wave of foot soldiers in. The transport vessels will land the second wave of soldier on the docks. The cavalry will remain outside the city at first and keep anyone from escaping.”

Synara eyed the walls of Denipoor with some concern, but she recounted Zamari’s words.

“Leave the gates to me,” Zamari had said. “I’ll open the way for your men.”

The march from Maerstone to Denipoor had been arduous but uneventful. They rode for days with little rest. Synara had held her breath the whole way, expecting the armies of the Northern Kingdom to greet them, yet no one interfered with their trek.

A cool breeze drifted through the fog, providing Synara relief from the humidity. “Do you think they are on alert?” she asked Dromedus.

He held up his spyglass and looked to the city walls. “It’s hard to tell,” he said. “My vision is obscured, but the gate is open, and there is no army waiting for us. I’d say we are safe. We need to make sure that gate stays open though.” 

Synara nodded. Much of this plan depends on that gate. She turned her gaze to the sky. A red shadow hovered just above the clouds with several smaller, darker shadows. “Mistress, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Zamari said. The red shadow of her dragon form circled the city like a threatening storm of fire. “Can you sense them yet? The boy and the elf. Are they in the city?” 

Synara shut her eyes and expanded her consciousness. She let her mind drift through the city streets as she scried. The people all seemed the same: ungifted and unblessed with divina magic. She drifted further into the city until she was almost at the docks. “There they are. I can feel them now! They are together by the water, Mistress.”

Zamari descended from the clouds with a roar. Her young dragons followed behind her like a murder of ravens.

Synara erected a shield of protection around her and the soldiers. The battle was about to begin. Praise Nemoth. It’s really happening.