The Blue Fire

     About an hour after dawn the group set off, leaving the city of Nira behind shortly after midday. Iori led the ten out of the city by way of the coast, insisting that the best way to reach their destination lay along the beach. Once they’d come to the sandy, rocky shoreline, he paused, head cocked as though listening. Apparently satisfied with the unheard whispers in his head, he chose a direction and continued to lead them along.

     The weather was bright and clear. This far south, the air was considerably warmer than in the places from which they’d come, but a breeze blew off the sea, cooling the atmosphere. Altogether the day was a pleasant one for walking along the beach, and it was evening before they lost sight of any idlers from the city who’d gone out to take advantage of the spring day.

     Though the ten walked along purposefully, the hike had the air of a picnicking excursion. All but Rianka, who was gloomy and sullen, laughed and chatted throughout the day. Hamat, though ever watchful, seemed more relaxed than usual, often taking the time to joke with Xelin, whose natural enthusiasm was even more pronounced. Himira distracted herself from her worries by telling tales to the two men of the lore of the Seafarers, while Jorin fluctuated between listening to her and falling back to chat with Ren. The two young historians speculated wildly about what they might find the next day- if anything at all. Fatemeh walked with Ren, either listening to him speak with Jorin or asking questions in her broken way. She was deeply fascinated by the ocean, far larger than the river beside which she’d lived all her life. She explored the scents and textures of the colorful shells and sea-glass, her favorites of which she stashed in her pockets. Even Maaya was more light-hearted than usual, strolling beside Benar. The two kept up a steady stream of chatter on a variety of topics.

     The next day went along very much the same, until the light of the setting Prime Sun stained the bluffs with orange-red. They were approaching the area where Iori had said they’d find a pathway to ascend the cliffs when Maaya noticed that her brother had started to lag behind, something she hadn’t expected given his excitement. She turned back, and by the time she’d reached him, Ren had stopped altogether. Fatemeh waited by his side, watching him anxiously as he stared at the cliffs above. He wore a strange expression on his face, as though his vision was coming in and out of focus.

     “Ren?” Maaya laid a hand on his arm. He turned to look at her.

     “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m coming.”

     “Are you alright?”

     He hesitated a bit before answering.

     “Yeah… Yeah, I just feel kinda funny, is all.”

     “Do you want to stop here?” Maaya fought to keep the worry from her voice. “We could make camp and go on tomorrow.”

     “No. It’s only a little farther.” He smiled at her. “I’m fine, really.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “Yup. C’mon, let’s go.”

     Sighing, Maaya followed her brother as he hurried to catch up with the others. Iori had found the promised path, if it could be called as much. The steps that had once been carved into the sandstone had long since eroded, and small plants and vines proliferated. Here and there, stunted trees partially blocked the way forward. Hamat and Xelin went before the others, clearing the way and checking the ground for stability. The going was difficult, and it was dark by the time the ten had reached the top of the bluffs. Though Iori had no trouble finding the nearly invisible place where a second path led away from the cliffs, the group was forced to stop to catch their breaths.

     While Hamat and Himira admired the view of the newly risen moons above the shimmering sea, many of the others took seats on the ground. Hamat turned to address Xelin, and was surprised to find that the younger man was not at his side, but prowling around, his eyes wide open and searching. When Hamat approached him, he said in a hushed voice,

     “This is a strange place. Very strange.”

     Though it was obvious he was hoping not to be overheard, he was. Rianka’s eyes rose from her clasped hands and fell on him, deep with scrutiny.

     Hamat didn’t need to ask for clarification. It was quite evident what Xelin was referring to, and the elder nodded in silent acquiescence. He would never feel this side of the world that Xelin was privy to, and deferred to him without question. However, he noted with concern that the younger man’s admission brought no relief; his eyes still roved, his body tense as a coiled spring. Usually talking brought Xelin some degree of comfort, but this time it seemed to have no effect. Unable to sense whatever it was that so disconcerted his friend, Hamat looked around them, seeking answers in the physical realm to which he was attuned. Though he found no immediate evidence of anything amiss, his eyes fell on a fascinating tableau.

     Ren was standing a bit away from the others, beside the rotting remains of a dead tree. He swayed slightly, his eyes shut against what Hamat assumed was vertigo. As he watched, Maaya hustled into view, trailed by Fatemeh, both women wearing expressions of worry. Without appearing to, Hamat listened to the words that were exchanged.

     “Ren?” Maaya’s voice was soft, questing.

     He didn’t answer, but opened his eyes to look at her.

     “What’s the matter? Do you feel sick?”

     “No.” He shook his head. “No, just… funny still.”

     “We’ll stop, okay? You should lie down.”

     “No. No, not here.” Ren’s voice grew stronger, vehement. “I don’t want to stop here.”

     “If you’re not feeling well-”

     “I can’t explain, Maaya, but I think it’s just this particular place. It’s weird here. I’ll feel better when we leave.”

     “Are you sure? Don’t push yourself if you’re not feeling well.” Maaya forced an indulgent smile. “The Blue Fire is supposed to have been around for hundreds of years. If it’s here, it’ll still be around tomorrow.”

     Ren managed a smile in return.

     “No, I want to get out of here. At this point, I don’t care what we find.”

     “Well, I’ll go ask Jorin to stay with you, okay?”

     “Yeah, alright.”

     Maaya left Ren with evident reluctance. Fatemeh, however, stayed behind. After some initial hesitation, she moved to Ren’s side.

     “Does it feel strange to you?” He asked her, the tremulous noted he’d hidden from his sister emerging in her absence.

     “No feel,” Fatemeh replied. “Funny smell. Old smell. Not outside smell.”

     Hearing this, Hamat tested the air, but found nothing unusual.

     “What’s it smell like?” Ren asked, a slight strain to the words.

     “I forgot things. Want to remember things. I don’t know… Old. Old, but in me I want to remember. What’s word?”

     “Maybe you’re thinking ‘nostalgic’.” He was pushing himself now. “Something that makes you want to remember bits of your past.”

     “But not in my past is a place like this.” Fatemeh’s brow furrowed. “Why want to remember now?”

     “I dunno.” Hearing the suffering behind the phrase, Hamat turned to Xelin. He was still casting about, wary.

     “Let’s go. Round everybody up,” the elder man instructed, his voice firm.

     Xelin nodded, his usually cheerful face grave.

     “What’s Iori leading us into?” Hamat asked without preface.

     “For the life of me, I don’t know.” Xelin’s voice shook. “Whatever it is, it has power the likes of which none of us have ever seen.”

     “Be prepared.”

     “I am- as best as I can be.”

 

     Silence fell, even between the least reverent of the lot, when they reached the place where no tree grew, though they’d trudged for fifteen minutes through copious growth. The clearing formed a most unnatural rectangle, clearly demarcated. The ground below their feet remained level, though it sloped slightly toward the center, where the rich soil created by ages of deciduous leaves thinned. The light heralded in advance the location of their quarry, bizarre highlights dancing on the braches overhead.

     In a pit, sunk low in the dark land of the unnatural clearing, burned a fire every bit as blue as its title. As large as a mid-winter bonfire, its arms of logic-defying sky-colored flame licked the atmosphere, reaching and receding in that undulance that only fire has. Tongues halted, perhaps forever, the group approached, as amazed with what they’d found as with the fact that it existed at all.

     Each one seemed entirely sucked into themselves, moving only of their own volition, ignorant of the group as a whole. They made their approach as individual units- patches not yet used, scattered nails without known purpose. They remained as such, completely self-absorbed, until Xelin broke the spell, speaking out, his voice echoing among the surrounding trees.

     “Look, Hamat. I can hold it. You can touch it. Go on.”

     “I can’t touch it,” Hamat answered. “It’s fire.”

     “Look,” Xelin said again, holding out his hands. In them blazed a portion of the fire he’d gathered, lighting his exuberant face from below. “It doesn’t burn.”

     “I can’t touch that, Xe,” Hamat said firmly.

     “I can’t either,” put in Jorin, who held up reddened fingers. “I don’t know why, but I tried.”

     “Try it, Hamat,” Xelin coaxed.

     With apprehension, the elder reached out. Pulling back singed fingers, he shook his head.

     “I can’t, Xe.”

     His head cocked, Xelin quietly observed the flames within his hands.

     “Rianka, can you touch it?” He asked.

     He received no answer.

     “Rianka?” Looking around, he saw every single member of his party- every one but the one he sought. Rianka was gone.

     “Rianka!” He shouted.

     This seemed to bring the rest out of their daze- all but one. While the others cast about for the missing Defender, Maaya ran to her brother’s side.

     “Ren!” She was nearly yelling. He didn’t move.

     “Ren?” She shook him, dislodging the tears that had gathered in his staring eyes. They dropped onto his cheeks, leaving faint trails as they traveled down to his chin.

     “Please,” Maaya pleaded. “Answer me.”

     She continued tugging on his arm long after she’d lost hope he’d respond. She barely noticed Fatemeh when she materialized her side.

     “No Rianka,” the wild woman informed Maaya quietly. “Gone.”

     “Who cares?” Maaya answered despondently. “Look.”

     Fatemeh observed Ren for a few minutes, moving around him, peering and sniffing in her animal-like way. Finally, she shook her head slightly and moved to block Ren’s vision of anything but herself. Waving at him as though they’d been long separated, she said,

     “Hullo, Ren!”

     “Hm?” He replied, closing his eyes and bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

     “Does your head hurt?” Maaya asked, not even trying to keep the fear from her voice.

     “I…” Ren trailed off and didn’t continue.

     “Let’s have Benar take a look at you,” she said in what she hoped was a comforting tone. “You’re not doing so good.”

     “I… I just feel…”

     “Funny, I know. Benar will sort you out.” She took him by the arm and started to lead him away, Fatemeh trailing silently behind.

     Benar was standing in another part of the clearing, with the rest of party. None of them had seen Rianka leave.

     “I’ll go find her,” Hamat offered. “She probably just wandered off somewhere.”

    “No,” Iori’s voice, for the first time firmly grounded, sounded somewhat different from usual, far more like the rest, far less like otherworldly music. “I’ll go get her.”

     “You don’t know which way she went,” Hamat argued. “It’ll be easier for me to find her.”

     “I can find her,” Iori responded. “Maybe easier than you can.”

     “This is a matter of duty. I can’t have a soldier just wandering off-”

     “No, this is a matter of Rianka herself.” Iori pushed back his hair to look at Hamat squarely with both eyes, their color eerily echoing the unnatural fire. “I’ll go talk to her.”

     “Alright,” Hamat conceded. “Thank you.”

    Iori nodded at this and walked away. At this point, Maaya had approached the gathering.

     “Benar?” she asked tentatively. “Can you come here a minute?”

     Hamat watched in silent interest as Maaya and Benar conversed in whispers. In the end, the young doctor was led to where Ren sat quietly beside Fatemeh. It appeared Hamat might get the answers to some of his questions at least. While Rianka may remain a mystery, perhaps he might get closer to the secret Maaya, Benar and Jorin kept of Ren. This consoled him somewhat as he moved to make himself appear busy setting up camp while still listening in on the conversation of the group from Mianuus.

 

     “There you are.”

     “Go away, Iori.” Rianka’s usually chill voice took on a new quality, this one sharp and cutting as a whetted blade.

     “Why’d you leave? Everybody’s worried.”

     “Go tell them I’m fine. I’ll… I’ll come back later.”

     He’d found her back along the path, in the shelter of trees that bore no sign of the glow ahead. She crouched low to the ground, holding herself protectively. Now she was slowly rising, holding the trunk of one of the older trees, instinctively seeking haven. Iori watched the tree feed her strength and assurance, its ancient wisdom enveloping her in ways she’d never know. He sighed.

     “You should tell me why you left,” he said quietly. At this point, she noted the change in his voice; no longer did it float on the air, a flute or a fiddle, but cut through it like anyone else’s. This disturbed her, but she answered as though she hadn’t noticed.

     “I don’t like it over there, is all. I’ll go back later.”

     “I already know you don’t like it. That’s obvious, even to an idiot. I want to know why you don’t.”

     “That’s my business.” Reacting to this change in Iori’s tone, Rianka shifted into the persona she adopted with anyone but him. “Go away.”

     “No, I won’t go away.” Iori moved closer to her, until they were mere inches from one another. “I don’t really care what the problem is. I don’t care if you tell me or not. I won’t go away, even if you won’t tell me. The problem isn’t important.”

     “Then what’s important to you?” Rianka asked, her voice still cold, though it was with effort that she kept it so.

     “I’m here with you,” Iori responded, holding out his hands, waiting, like he was prepared to wait an eternity for something to fill them. “Whatever makes it hard for you to be over there, I don’t care. I’m here to help you. I can protect you.”

     Rianka didn’t take his hands.

     “Protect me from what? I don’t need your help. I know what I have to do. I’m strong enough for it.”

     “I’m just saying that I’ll add to your strength.”

     “I don’t want your help.” Rianka turned away from him, facing the darkness of the forest. “I’ve had enough of that.”

     “Rianka-”

     “I paid my Debt to you, Iori. I did my best to pay it back, which means it’s paid. Now shut up and go away.”

     “I’m more than just a Debt, Rianka.”

     “Not to me.”

     “What if I told you I knew that wasn’t true?”

     “I’d kill you, you stupid, arrogant spawn of witches. I told you- those fairies you talk to don’t exist. Okay? They’re not real. What’s real is my anger, and I’ll tell you- right now I’m pretty pissed off.”

     “I know you are, but you won’t kill me. And I know why. I know you’re trying to do something, and that trying is more important than me. And aside from that, how would I have found this place without my friends? If they weren’t real, how could they have guided me here?” Iori sighed heavily. He shook his head, moving closer to her still. “This old argument isn’t important either. Rianka, please… Whatever it is that’s hurting you, you’ve got to let it go.”

     She backed away from him slightly, pressing against the trunk of the tree. With effort, she forced a laugh, its sound chilling in the darkness.

     “What’s the matter with you, Iori? You’ve gone all funny. I’m fine. I just don’t like bonfires, is all. What’s the big deal? You’re even crazier than usual.”

     “I’m not crazy, and you know that. The Blue Fire won’t hurt you. I heard the only ones who have anything to fear from it are the evil.”

    Rianka laughed again, this time hollowly, her face mirthless.

     “Yeah, the evil.”

     “You’re not evil, Rianka,” Iori said softly.

     “You’ll never know,” she whispered in reply. “You, Xelin, Hamat… you’ll never know.”

     “Forget it, Rianka. It’s the past. Let it go.”

     “Once you’ve done what I’ve done, it can’t be let go of. Just go away, Iori. You can’t help me. I just gotta… collect myself, is all. Let me alone, okay?”

     Ignoring her request, he moved closer. Though she pressed herself with all her might against the tree, he reached up and cupped her cheek in his hand. Caressing her chin with his calloused thumb, he whispered her name. Though he was not particularly surprised, he was deeply disappointed to feel the cold barrel of the handgun dig under his jaw. It shook as she did, but her words were firm.

     “You’ll go back and tell Hamat that I went after something I thought I saw. Turned out to be nothing, just an animal. You’ll tell him I’ll be along in a minute. You’ll tell that lie, and you’ll tell it well, or you won’t be waking up tomorrow. Do you understand?”

     “Yes,” he replied without fear.

     “I don’t know what you think you are to me,” her words hissed venom and fury, “but in reality you aren’t any more than just a nuisance. Touch me again and I’ll kill you.”

     “Okay, I got it. I won’t, okay? Let me go.”

     “Fine.” She returned the weapon to its holster at her hip. “Get out of here.”

     She watched in silent irritation as Iori walked away. He went slowly, as though purposely tempting her, but did not look back. She pushed herself away from the tree, trying with all her might to focus herself, to accept the duty ahead of her, no matter the temptations she might feel. She was strong enough, she assured herself. Not that it really mattered- if she wasn’t, everyone else would be dead soon enough anyhow.

 

     “Hamat, wake up.”

     He opened his eyes. That would be Xelin, waking him for the final watch. Yet even through the haze of sleep he could tell that the hand on his arm, shaking him, was not Xelin’s. His own hand strayed to the gun at his side as he rolled over, meeting Rianka’s eyes.

     “Hamat, we’ve got a problem,” she informed him. Her face was grave, lit spookily by the strange fire that burned not far away.

     He sat up, drawing the gun nearer.

     “You won’t need that,” Rianka said coolly. “It won’t fix this.”

     “What’s the matter?”

     “Our little friend Ren appears to have kicked it. He wasn’t moving around or anything tonight, and you know how I told you he usually has nightmares on my watch. Well, Benar told me he wasn’t feeling so hot, so I figured I’d just give a little peek… and shoot me if he isn’t stone dead.”

     “Are you sure?”
“Far as I can tell.” Rianka shrugged. “Who’d a thunk it, huh?”

     “Alright, let’s take a look.”

     Hamat rose and silently followed behind Rianka as she strode purposefully to where Ren lay on his bedroll. Fatemeh slumbered nearby, lying on her side. Maaya, too, was only a few feet away. Hamat crouched down and made a thorough examination of Ren, who was lying motionless on his back. After a few minutes, he stood up.

     “Go wake Benar,” he whispered to Rianka.

     “I don’t think he’s gonna be much help. Guy’s dead.”

     “I’m aware of that, Rianka. Would you prefer to break the news to Maaya yourself?”

     “Sorry. I’ll get him.”

     Moments later, Rianka returned with Benar in tow. It was obvious that the red-haired Defender had already told him what was going on, for the doctor immediately set about making the same examination Hamat had. The two stern Protectors waited in silence. Eventually, he returned to them, shaking his head.

     “I’ll wake Maaya,” Benar said quietly. “Please don’t move him.”

     Hamat and Rianka merely nodded.

     It was a long time before Maaya and the doctor approached- so long, in fact, that Hamat had rekindled the campfire. He recalled with a slight smile how Xelin had wanted to light the campfire with flame from the Blue Fire they’d found. He’d been voted down nearly unanimously. Xelin seemed to be the only one not completely unsettled by the bizarre blue flames.

     “It’s just a bunch of magic,” he’d tried to explain. “Old magic, yeah… but just magic.”

     Shaking her head, Himira had walked away without a word. Rianka had seemed on the verge on snarling.

     “Yeah, just magic,” Jorin had laughed uncomfortably.

     “Maybe we’d better leave it alone, pal,” Hamat himself had put in, clapping Xelin on the shoulder. “Don’t want you up all night playing with it, anyway.”

     Now he listened quietly to the sound of Rianka’s breathing, the popping and snapping of the fire, the ticking of the water as it came to a boil in the pot. He watched as Benar and Maaya came nearer, evidently disagreeing about something.

     “No, Benar, I’ll explain to them. And I’ll tell Jorin. You’ll have enough to do.”

     “But-”

     “No more ‘buts’. I’ll do it. Just go see to him, okay?”

     “Alright, Maaya.” Hamat watched as Benar hesitated, then swiftly leaned in to give Maaya a light kiss on the forehead. She blushed, ugly splotches appearing on her face. “Are you gonna be okay?”

     “Yeah,” she replied heavily.

     They parted, and when Maaya reached the place where Hamat and Rianka sat, the copper-eyed Protector handed her a steaming mug.

     “Here,” he said.

     “Thanks. What is it?” She asked.

     “Just some sugar water with a bit of brandy. It’ll make you feel better, if only a little bit.” Hamat’s soul was in his eyes. He felt genuinely sorry for Maaya, regardless of whether or not she’d known this was coming and hidden the fact.

     “Thank you.” She took the mug from him. Furtively, she added, “Hamat, could I talk to you alone?”

     “Sure.” He stood. “Rianka, you don’t have to stay up. You can go back to bed if you want.”

     She nodded silently in response. Hamat and Maaya walked until they reached the end of clearing, stopping amidst the very first of the trees. Shivering, Maaya clutched the hot mug. Her eyes were lowered to its contents; she did not once look at Hamat, who waited patiently for her to speak.

     “I don’t really know how to explain this to you,” she said softly, “so I’ll try to do it in the simplest way. Ren isn’t dead. He looks like he is, but it’s actually some kind of weird coma… It’s happened to him before, back in Mianuus. If it wasn’t for Benar, I’d have had him cremated.” She shuddered. “Benar says perhaps,” her voice broke, “perhaps he’ll wake from this one, too.”

     Hamat nodded, but she didn’t see him, intent as she was upon the mug in her hands.

     “He’s probably very ill. We decided to come here to… to try to give him something to be happy about. He wanted it so badly. Jorin, Benar and I all knew he’d probably never make it back home. Ren doesn’t know. And… and we didn’t tell you. I guess maybe we should’ve, but I… I didn’t think it mattered. I’ve really appreciated the help you’ve given us. I didn’t think you needed to be burdened with our problems.”

     “If this had happened while we were on the run from Ishar’s men, it would’ve been all our problems.”

     “But it didn’t,” Maaya answered pleadingly.

     “You’re right, it didn’t. It’s neither here nor there,” he replied, his voice gentle. “I’m sorry, Maaya, but I’m finding it very difficult to believe your brother hasn’t passed on. I looked at him myself.”

     “I know, but Benar says he hasn’t, and he knew before.”

     “How long was he like this before- in Mianuus?”

     “About three months.” Her voice sounded heavy and downtrodden.

     “Three months?” Hamat scratched his chin in thought. “I don’t think we should just leave you like this if it’s going to be so long… He can be moved, can’t he?”

     “I… I don’t know, really. You’d have to ask Benar.”

     Hamat nodded again, this time grimly.

     “Perhaps we should return you to Nira. You could find someplace to stay and set about a livelihood.”

     It was Maaya’s turn to shake her head in acceptance.

     “Maybe. If Benar says it’s okay…” She sighed. “I just wish Ren could’ve had a chance to say goodbye to you all. He really likes you, especially Xelin. He’ll be so sad to wake up and find you all gone, and then we’ll have to tell him…” She trailed off. “Oh, why doesn’t this get any easier?”

     “I’m sorry, Maaya,” Hamat said, his voice genuine. “Maybe we could come back on the way home and visit.” Even to him, the words sounded hollow.

     “I know what you’re going to do. You don’t think you’ll all survive,” Maaya observed. “I shouldn’t be asking you to feel sorry for me and Ren when you may be going off to die yourself. I apologize.”

     “I don’t have any choice but to succeed,” he responded, his voice clear and firm. “And if I can’t feel sympathy for you, I’m no man at all. We’ll have to leave you, Maaya, but know that we’re all hoping the best for you. Let’s make our plans once we’ve heard Benar’s recommendations. And who knows? Maybe Ren will wake faster this time, before we part. I know Xelin for one will put up a fight leaving him like he is.”

     “Maybe.”

     “Drink that,” Hamat said, adopting a tone he’d so often used with Xelin when the younger was ailing, at once parental and coaxing. “It’ll do no good to you cold.”

     Maaya did as she was told. In silence, she was thankful that Hamat, fierce as he seemed, was the man that he was. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt so, though perhaps it was to be the last.