Fire Child Part 30 & 31 Christmas Special

Zendrius was instantly ripped to consciousness as each of his senses was savagely assaulted.  Despite his blue tinted sight he still perceived the never-ending flow of the fist-sized orbs, but he also noticed something else; a presence, a unique identity within every respective soul.  But as if to contrast this individuality they all emitted an identical wail of anguish.  He felt, more than heard it; it pressed against every inch of his being, and yet it also passed through him.  It was as if he was both submerged and part of a liquid at the same time.  But what disturbed him most was the taste caressing his tongue and the scent filling his nostrils.  It was sweet and smooth, pungent yet piquant, pleasing to the point of being orgasmic.

  At first Zendrius resisted, but the sensation grew more intense with each passing second and soon the young boy found himself actively seeking the sensation.  He sought it, craved it and consumed it.  Muscles bulged, ripped and reformed; bones sprouted, piercing skin and flesh as they extended and enlarged themselves.  The wails of the damned were suddenly no longer off-putting but surprisingly entertaining.  Zendrius’ senses were so overwhelmed with the act of consuming souls, that he hardly even felt the pain of the transformation.  Everything outside devouring souls seemed irrelevant, the concern of lesser beings.  He was Dannar and yet not Dannar, an existence of both nightmare and hope, a being possessing the ancient blood of both extremes.  He was the Fire Child.

“We should prepare for battle,” said Aeon as he watched the approaching mass in the distance.

  “Wait,” said Nessha when the ancient durandal was about to signal the horde.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure, there is something familiar about those energy signatures.  I’ll know for sure when they get closer.”

  “And if they turn out to be hostile?”

  “Then we all die, you know as well as I do that no amount of preparation will help us survive against such an overwhelming force,” said Nessha dryly.

  “Our deaths would be inevitable, yes, but the preparation would allow us to survive for longer.  Remember the goal is not to win, but to hold out until Zendrius’ transformation is complete.”

  “I suppose you have a point.  Fortification won’t do much good; since they are probably flyers, our best bet would be wards.”

  “Tygrim of Reverse Force?”

  Nessha nodded.  “It will have to be rather large.”

  “We’ll draw it in the soil; you add the required magical components,” said Aeon before dividing the horde into four groups; assigning each group to shape a quadrant of the ward.

  “They seem so familiar,” said Nessha, sparing one last glance at the approaching mass before starting to weave the appropriate signs.

“My lady, shouldn’t we turn back?  You said you felt him stabilise.”

  Persephone parted the curtain of the litter.  “We have already revealed ourselves, turning back now would accomplish nothing.”

  “But our intentions have not yet been revealed, if you meet him now the others will know; they’ll not just sit back and do nothing, he is still too weak, it is too early,” pressed Azain.

  “Enough!  I wish to see my son and so does Alyza, isn’t that right dear?” said the golden woman, turning to the girl sitting beside her.

  Alyza wasn’t sure what the argument was about, but she didn’t really care to get in the middle of it.  However she did desperately want to see Zed, and if siding with his mother was the only way . . . it was a price she was more than willing to pay.  “Yes, I also think it would do him good to see me.”

   “There you have it,” said Persephone triumphantly to the man flying next to the litter.

   Azain only gave a dissatisfied grunt, before veering off to his place in the formation.

Nessha laughed in delight as the mass of fallen angels descended.  Everywhere she looked she was greeted with the smiling faces of her siblings, the only oddity being the litter carried by eight of her brothers.

   Azain was the first to land and even he sported a slight smile.  “Missed us, little sister?”

   “You bastard, you had me worried sick,” said Nessha as she hugged her eldest brother.

   “I imagine so, we were suddenly recalled into service shortly after you went to Earth; we had no way of leaving word.”

   “Recalled into service?  By whom?”

   “Lady Persephone.”

   “But we haven’t heard from her since Lord Zendrius was taken, why now?”

   “Apparently she has been watching us, but this is talk for later.  Where is he?”

   Nessha turned and pointed to the durandal horde.  “He’s in a Pit of Despair at the centre of that horde.”

   Azain took a moment to take in his surroundings.  “That’s impossible; a Pit of Despair can’t feasibly be surrounded by such a small force.”

   “Well this one is tiny and they are only guarding the entrance to the Pit.”

   “Entrance?”

   “It will be easier to just show you,” said Nessha as she led the muscular man through the gathered durandals to the breach.

   Azain stared at the rapidly declining flow of souls thoughtfully before saying, “Do you realise what this means?”

   Nessha only nodded.

   “How did you make this discovery?”

   “Lord Zendrius, he possesses the ability to see energy.  It appears to him as colours.”

   “A very useful gift.  Come, the litter should be landing soon; we must go attend Lady Persephone,” said Azain before turning to leave.

   “Wait, let me first introduce you to Aeon.”

   Azain didn’t so much as slow his stride.  “It can wait, come little sister.”

   Nessha shot Aeon an apologetic look before following her brother, but the ancient durandal seemed indifferent to both the insult and apology.

   The siblings arrived just as the litter was set down and the two golden beings exited the litter.  One possessed ruby-red hair, cerise eyes and an august presence while the other had light-blue eyes, raven black hair and shy a complexion.  They were both a foot taller than Nessha, making her the shortest among everyone gathered, a fact which slightly vexed her.

   Persephone turned her gaze to Nessha and the winged woman instantly knelt.  “You are the one who was sent to retrieve my son, correct?”

   “Yes, my lady,” said Nessha with her eyes cast down.

   “Why was my son dying moments ago?”

   “His powers has somehow been sealed but there are –”

 “I know of his seal, fulfilling conditions of its release should not have endangered his life.  What happened?” interrupted the Dannar, her impatience becoming plain.

 “The Agrarian my lady, he misread the conditions to weaken Lord Zendrius’ seal.  He did not tell us that Lord Zendrius had to satisfy each condition in direct succession.”

   Sudden comprehension appeared on Persephone’s face. “He consumed durandal flesh without having a Pit of Despair or the nectar of Eve at hand?”

   “Yes, my lady.”

   “Damn him!  I should have known he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation.  Give me your hand.”

   Nessha did as she was bid and instantly a faint green light appeared in her chest.  “What –”

   Blood spurted from Nessha’s mouth as the golden hand ripped thorough her armour and into her flesh.  Persephone said a single word and the light disappeared then she withdrew her hand.  “Azain, prepare the Living Blade for battle.”

   The taciturn man showed clear outrage as he quickly knelt next to his sister and pressed his hand on the wound.  “That was unnecessary!  It could have been done without harming her.”

   “It would have taken longer and they will be here soon.  Your skill in restoration is adept, you should be able to save her,” replied Persephone unfazed. 

   Azain ignored the comment as he weaved the appropriate signs with his left hand while keeping his right on the wound.  A dim pink light started to brighten the torn flesh and moments later it began to mend itself.

   Not waiting for Azain to finish, Persephone strolled towards the durandal horde.  “Come Alyza, let us go ask my son’s servants how they managed to stop his deterioration.”

   The young girl quickly fell into step.  “You know, I agree with Azain.  You were very ruthless back there.”

   “My dear, if you are to rule by my son’s side you need to learn how to make quick decisions.  Hesitation can cost you everything.  For instance, had I removed that surveillance hex the less drastic way, I would not have been able to sense my brother’s intentions.  Now due to my ‘ruthlessness’ we not only severed his source of intelligence, but gained some as well.”

 “Ok, I think I understand.”

   The entire horde bowed as the two golden beings approached.  “You honour us with your presence, Lady Persephone,” said Aeon.

   “Aeon the Mist Wraith, well this is a surprise.  My mate always spoke highly of you.”

   “I’ve only recently heard of his passing.  It still saddens me; he was a good friend and a true visionary.”

   “Yes, his absence is felt strongly,” said Persephone sorrowfully.

   Aeon motioned to Alyza.  “Is this your daughter?”

   “This is Zendrius’ mate.  Her name is Alyza.”

   “Um, hello,” said the girl timidly, being more than slightly intimidated and stunned by the appearance of the surrounding durandals.

   “Alyza; Zendrius’ human friend who was taken from Earth?” asked Aeon confused.

   “Uh, yeah that was me.”

   Aeon’s eyes widened.  “You gave her your –”

   “That’s quite enough, you’re being rude, Ooti,” interrupted Persephone, putting emphasis on Aeon’s Tier.

   The ancient durandal understood the insinuation and lowered his head in apology.

   “I assume you stabilised my son through a massive exposure to souls, but I don’t see any viable sources nearby.  Explain.”

   “As you wish,” said Aeon before recounting the events that lead to the discovery of the Pit of Despair.

   “So in the end, he saved himself, like any true Dannar would,” said Persephone approvingly as she watched the glow of the few souls that had yet to be consumed.

   “We have secured the surroundings,” said Azain as he approached with Nessha in tow.

   “Good, is everyone within the Tygrim of Reverse Force?” asked Persephone as she motioned to the carvings in the soil.

 “They are.”

 “The magical application is not adequate; Alyza will augment and reactivate it.”

   “Me?” asked the girl surprised.

   “Yes, you have the necessary skill and power.”

   “Um, ok.”

   Alyza had barely finished the task when everyone spotted the approaching throng.  The host advanced upon them in a blur of movement and within minutes the first creature struck the Tygrim of Reverse Force.  Its body was savagely crushed as its momentum was turned against it.  Hundreds died in a similar manner before they started circling their prey.  Alyza could not quite make out their appearance due to their incredible speed, but they looked to her like big skinless jackrabbits, if jackrabbits walked on their hind legs, possessed sharp claws and teeth and stood six feet tall.

   The creatures tested the ward a few more times; each time ending in the death of the experimenter.  Then they suddenly came to an abrupt halt and started walking slowly through the ward.  The Living Blade and the durandal horde responded instantly, cutting down any who passed the Tygrim of Reverse Force’s threshold.  Alyza was shocked to see how agile and adept the jackrabbit creatures were at combat, but they still suffered heavy losses, which would have relaxed her if there weren’t thousands upon thousands of them.  For each one that was killed, four more took its place; giving Alyza the impression that they would eventually be overwhelmed.

   “An impressive force,” said Persephone snapping Alyza from her dark musing.    

   “Shouldn’t we help?”

   “This is something my son has to triumph over himself.”

   The words were barely cold when sanguine flames erupted from the Pit of Despair, the fire washed over everyone, but only the jackrabbit creatures shrieked in terror as more than a hundred thousand of them met a fiery death.  Those that survived fled into every direction in a primal panic. 

 Two glowing silver eyes appeared in the midst of the smoke and dust that shrouded the crater, but before anyone could say a word a twenty foot monstrosity suddenly phased into existence.  “Finally you show yourself, cousin.”

Fire Child Part 29

“What should we do?” asked Nessha to no one in particular.

  “We move to another realm and continue our search,” said Aeon determined.

  “Just wander Los-Reinar aimlessly until we find a Pit of Despair?”

  “I am open to suggestions; do you have something better in mind?”

  Nessha’s gaze wandered to the flameless frail form on Aeon’s back.  “No, but . . .”

  The ancient durandal shared her concern; Zendrius’ condition had been rapidly deteriorating for the past hour, so much so that he was beginning to doubt that the young Dannar will survive the next one.

Persephone was in the middle of a sentence when she suddenly fell to the ground in pain.

  “My lady, are you all right?” asked Azain as he rushed to aid her to her feet.

  “Something is wrong, my son is dying.  This, this should not be possible. Assemble the Living Blade, we have to go help him.”

  “But my lady, it is too soon.  He is not ready.”

  “Do as I tell you!” screeched Persephone before striking Azain across the face; the blow was not meant do any real harm, but it still brought him to his knees.

  There was a flash of anger in the taciturn man’s face but he knew it had been nothing but a rash act of emotion.  “As you wish.”

  Persephone walked over to the balcony as Azain left and thoughtfully stared out over the white ocean.  “What has happened to you, my son?”

Zendrius struggled to open his eyes as the jostling of Aeon’s movement brought him back to consciousness.  “Any luck?”

  “My lord, you should conserve your strength,” urged Nessha.

  “Are we still in Shinra?”

  “Yes, and no we have not found anything,” said Aeon.

  Nessha shot Aeon a black look but the ancient durandal just continued, “We decided it would be wiser to keep searching here in Shinra, since we do not have the time to first go elsewhere.”

  “Aeon!”

  “It’s fine, Nessha.  I know I’m going to die soon if we don’t find me those souls.”

  “Maybe we should transfer the souls we own to you?”

  “No, these conditions were created with a disturbing amount of precision.  I already deviated once and look what happened.  I’d rather not risk making things even worse.”

  “But my lord . . .”

  “Nessha, do you feel that?” asked Aeon as he turned his head to the mass of white liquid.

  “Yes, what is that?”

  “What?” croaked Zendrius.

  “Something is coming from across the ocean, an enormous mass of energy, an army.  We need to run, they’ll crush us,” said Aeon as he signalled horde.

  Zendrius shifted his perception and saw it; hundreds of green-cyan energy signatures dotted the horizon, the most intimidating being the void-like black blotch at their centre with the patch of grey at its side.  A wave of fatigue washed over him and just when he was about to fall back into unconsciousness his eyes caught a bright flash of blue.  “Stop.”

  There was something in the tone of his voice that made Aeon bring the horde to an immediate halt.  “What is it, Zendrius?”

  The boy gave a weak smile, “I’ve found a Pit of Despair.”

  “What?  Where?” asked the ancient durandal as he scanned the surroundings.

  “Beneath us.”

  Nessha stared at the soil beneath her feet for a moment before falling to her knees; tearing at the ground with her bare hands.

  “Don’t just stand there, all of you begin digging,” said Aeon to the surrounding horde.    

Instantly massive chunks of earth were being ripped from the ground and thrown aside.  Within half an hour one of the durandals shouted that he had made a discovery.  Aeon and Nessha rushed over to the site and saw part of the spiralling flow of souls through the hole the durandal had made.  From what they could see it was clear that this particular Pit of Despair was tiny in comparison to others, and then they both came to the same realisation.  All Pits of Despair originate underground, beginning as small pockets that grow as they gain souls, only becoming exposed to the surface when they had grown too large.

  “We found it, my lord,” said Nessha before turning and finding that Zendrius had slipped back into unconsciousness.  “What now?”

  Aeon reached back without a word, took hold of his lord and tossed him into the flow of souls.

Fire Child Part 27 & 28

“My lord, are you alright?” asked Nessha as she immediately knelt next to the small figure.

  “I can’t move, it’s like something is draining away all of my strength and it’s not being very delicate about it,” said Zendrius in obvious pain.

    “Could this be due to fulfilling one of the conditions?” asked Aeon.

    “I’m not sure, this is the first condition I have fulfilled intentionally.  Nessha, be a dear and go find my uncle.  I’m no expert, but I’d say something is wrong.”

    Without saying a word Nessha sprinted into the forest and Aeon protectively stood over his new lord; for although the horde had pledged their allegiance to the boy, his current weakened state invoked powerful predatory instincts, instincts which could overwhelm the relatively young or weak of mind.

    Minutes dragged into hours as they waited and just when Aeon was about to take Zendrius into the Garden himself to search for the Agrarian, Nessha appeared at the edge of the forest.         She rushed over and quickly scooped up the heavy breathing boy.

    “I’ve been instructed to bring him into the Garden,” was all she said before launching herself into the air and then darting into the orange and gold flora.

    The Agrarian watched Nessha land with amusement and then motioned to the intricate circle of symbols.   The winged woman quickly placed Zendrius at its centre and stood silently by as the Agrarian weaved the appropriate signs.  The three-dimensional projection of the seal materialised and the serpentine Dannar touched one of the spheres; releasing the dome of spiralling runes.

  “Oh, I missed that,” said the Agrarian after several minutes of musing.

    “What?” croaked Zendrius.

    “I misinterpreted something regarding the conditions you need to fulfil.  It seems I had the order correct, but not the intervals between them.  Each condition was supposed to be satisfied in immediate succession.  Now that it is not, your body is drawing energy from yourself instead of the million souls you were expected to have for the transformation.”

    “Great, you wouldn’t happen to have a million souls lying around here somewhere?” said Zendrius with a weak smile.

    “I do admit that I am partly responsible for your current state, but I’ll not be giving you a million souls.”

    “Ok then, what will happen if I don’t get those souls?”

    “Your condition will gradually worsen until the transformation has no more energy left to feed from.”

    Zendrius didn’t need to be told that would only be the case when he is dead.  “Nessha, take me back to Aeon and the others.  Quickly.”

“When will I get to see Zed?  It’s been, I don’t know how many cycles since I woke up in that bed.  I can’t even be sure you really are his mother.”

  Alyza regretted her words the instant they left her mouth and desperately avoided the fierce cerise eyes glaring at her.

    “Listen here girl, my son’s purpose is of great consequence to this realm and I’ve sacrificed a great deal for him.  I do not care what you think, but you’d be wise to care what I think.  Those I disapprove of tend to be short-lived.”

    Alyza stumbled backwards at the threat since she knew all too well it was more than just empty words.

    Persephone smirked at the reaction before leaving the room.

    The metamorphosed girl fell onto her bed.  “I wonder what he is doing right now.”

“Just strap me to his back dammit!” said Zendrius in what should have been a firm commanding voice, but came out as barely a hoarse whisper.

    “Yes, my lord,” said Nessha she placed him gently on Aeon’s back.

    “So you are sure we’ll find a Pit of Despair at this spot you mentioned?”

    “Many believe that each Pit of Despair appears entirely at random within Los-Reinar.  But the location I mentioned earlier has spawned a majority of them throughout the omegia.”

    “I’ll cross my extremely weak fingers then.”

    Aeon and Nessha looked at each other confused before he added, “It is a human expression for wishing for the best possible outcome.”

    “Then we will all cross our extremely weak fingers,” said Aeon sincerely.

    Zendrius chuckled.  “I appreciate that.  We should probably travel to your spot in a smaller group, to minimise Oriax’s toll.”

    “I’d advise against it, Zendrius.  Pits of Despair are usually ferocious battlefields, since all desire the souls within them.”

    “Wonderful, that shifty-eyed bastard is going to love this.”

Zendrius stared at the strange ocean of snow-white luminescent liquid.  “What is this realm called?”

    “Shinra, very few even know of its existence,” said Aeon as he lead the horde onward.

    “Which Tier calls it home?”

    “None, it is a fringe realm.  Los-Reinar has a great many realms within it, and despite the long existence of the Tiers, new realms are still discovered.  This has spawned a belief among some that God still works within Los-Reinar, honing it to perfection.”

    “Intresting.”

    “Everyone be on guard, we are nearing the location I spoke of,” said the ancient durandal.

    They started to pass massive craters, each roughly the size of an average city on Earth.  Everywhere the eye could see were evidence of previous conflicts; the area almost seemed like a sea of bones.  But despite this ominous scenery, there wasn’t a soul in sight.  They walked for hours through the lifeless wasteland until Aeon finally stopped the horde.  He didn’t need to say anything, everyone knew.  They have known for the past hour, but none wanted to say it.

    Zendrius weakly glanced around the desolate plane.  “I’m screwed.”