Trial By Fire

Embers In The Wind

...

Wufei glanced up at the setting sun. There were maybe seven minutes left. Not enough time. The crowd was already gathered, the cross set, the fire-wood soaked. And Em. They were dragging her through the crowd amidst taunts and jeers and laughter and cheers. These people, these horrible people, wanted her to die. They'd been brainwashed into thinking that magick was evil, and anyone who used it should be quickly executed.

Poor Em was being pulled through the crowd. Even from here, Wufei could see she was trying to stand tall and be brave, but her eyes were full of fear.

Wufei's hand rested on his sword. He didn't want to put Em's life at risk. He'd almost lost Duo by over-estimating his own abilities. He didn't want to loose Em; she was a sweet girl with a great future. But where was Duo? He should be giving some kind of signal any moment now. He should have already given the signal.

Em's hands were being bound behind the stake. Wufei shook his head. He had no idea what was up with Duo, but he refused to wait any longer. Putting two fingers to his lips, he let out a long shrill whistle.

Almost immediately, an arrow flew, straight and true, and took out one of the guards. Heero was right on cue, and not half bad with a bow, either.. Wufei drew his sword and threw his hood back, trying to make his way through the crowd without hurting anyone.

But they were too late, it seemed. In the panic, one of the guards decided to take initiative and threw the torch into the wood at Em's feet. Wufei almost felt de ja vu as the flames quickly began to eat the wood, licking towards Em's feet as the girl cringed and cried out. Wufei heard the whistle and saw Em sag forward, arms coming free as she almost stumbled into the fire around her in surprise. Heero'd cut the ropes!

But it wasn't enough. Guards were drawing their swords all around Wufei, and he couldn't reach her quick enough. And he couldn't maintain much control over the fire. He could whisper enough to it to keep it from consuming the small little platform Em was on, but he couldn't keep it from consuming the wood around it, or from burning. No, his concentration went too much to keeping himself alive.

This was not turning out so well.

And then, the unexpected happened. Guards in the crowd, around Wufei, began to fall. A blur of red and black sped around him, a whirlwind making it's way towards him. When the blur stopped, Wufei found himself side by side with a young woman, decked in dark colors of red and black and dark brown.

"Duo sent me," she hissed, using a long staff to fend off attackers. "Let me handle these guys. Concentrate on keeping her safe for a few more moments," she ordered. For one moment, Wufei blinked, but then shook it off. He had no choice but to trust her to protect him while he tried to push the flames down. He was still too far away to do much good, but without having to fend off the guards, it was a bit easier.

And that's when he saw it. Em. Slowly, slowly rising into the air, hovering above the flames. For a moment, she seemed almost ethereal, her body in the air as the wind billowed her wild hair, fluttered her skirt, and had embers and ashes dancing around her. Then, he saw her look of shock, and only then, did Wufei catch sight of village archers raising their bows.

"EM! DISAPPEAR! NOW!"

Wufei's voice broke through her trance of shock, and her body shimmered in shadows for a moment before completely disappearing amidst the smoke and embers. And then the archers began to drop, one by one, with arrows somewhere in their bodies. One managed to fire first, but the arrow just soared through the air where Em had been moments before.

And then, Wufei figured Heero must had dropped the bow, because the earth under their feet began to rumble. The ground began to split as a chasm appeared. Guards dropping to their death in the pits of the world as the villagers scrambled away.

"Let's get out of this place," Wufei's companion suggested, and Wufei could only nod in agreement as he let his control over the flames go, even pushing them to consume the wood quicker, and forcing it to spread all around. Two guards screamed as their clothes caught fire. One stumbled backwards into Heero's chasm, and the earth rumbled again as the rift closed. Wufei and the woman fended off attackers as they backed out of the village square.

"The alley," she said, and they ducked to the side, into the alley and out of the throngs of people. Then they broke into dead runs. The woman took a sharp turn, and with nothing better to do, Wufei followed. A black and white horse neighed from where it waited beside a building, it's reigns only loosely looped around a stack of crates. The woman wasted no time swinging into the saddle, then held down a hand to the Ki-Lin warrior.

"Trust me," she said when, for once, he hesitated. The sound of the crowd behind him, however, made up Wufei's mind. He took the woman's hand and let her pull him into the saddle- she was stronger than she looked, and he didn't have to even help much.

And with that, they were off into the night. Wufei could only hope the others had made their escape, too.

...

"It was madness, I tell you," the man was rambling, deluded with pain. "Madness. Fire everywhere, the horses gone mad. Mad, I say. And that woman!" He tried to growl, but the sound only came out as a choked gurgle. Blood dribbled out of the side of his mouth, and the burns had left the majority of his body in a charred, blackened, sickly mess. A smell, the smell of rotten things, wafted up from him, letting Trowa know he was already half-dead.

Trowa looked down at the man with a mix of pity and scorn even as K'mi had to turn away and leave, one hand over her mouth and eyes filled with tears. Mara stood a ways off, watching curiously as to Trowa's actions, and the 'boy' as Trowa considered him was helping K'mi. He'd probably hold her hair if she puked, but he doubted she would. She was squeamish, but she wouldn't throw up her lunch over this.

There was no doubt in Trowa's mind that this man had lived a less than honest life. What little Trowa could pick out on his clothes branded him a mercenary. But unlike Heero- who gave his sword and gift where needed- this man was a common mercenary. A thief, a robber. On him was murder, and probably a few unwilling bed-guests, too. Even beneath the sickening smell of burnt and rotting flesh, Trowa could pick out that on him. He was a bad man. But did anyone deserve to die like this? Slowly, agonizingly. Burned alive. Examining him, Trowa was willing to bet he'd been roughed up fairly well before the flames got to him. He was more than likely bleeding inside.

But even above thinking this, Trowa's mind was pondering what had happened to him. A woman who had a good hand with animals? The story sounded vaguely familiar.

He knelt down, even closer to the wretch. "The woman. Think, man. The woman, what did she look like?"

The man gurgled and muttered, clearly out of it. Something about a peasant with a queen's voice. And then...

"Her eyes," the man said, his own eyes wide, horrified. "Green eyes, doll eyes. But no fear, no fear, no fear. It was madness, I say..."

Trowa stood up. The man would be no further use. But...

A green-eyed woman, who showed no fear in the face of danger. Dress liked a peasant, but spoke like a queen. And who had a way with animals.

It wasn't much, but it was something. More than he'd ever heard before.

Mara walked forward silently, kneeling down and pulling her hunting knife from her boot. "May the Bright Father have mercy on your soul," she whispered, and brought the knife quickly, cleanly across the man's neck. Quietly, she cleaned off the blade on some grass and replaced it before standing up.

Their journey had been momentarily paused when they'd come across the dying man on the road-side. Something didn't quiet seem normal about his death, she thought. Something was off, unusual.

She walked back to her horse, and mounted up.

"We've wasted day-light," she commented. Trowa could only agree. Mara made a good leader for a small group. She was compassionate, but her Circean blood gave her back-bone and made her nearly ruthless to her enemies.

The two young ones mounted back up, and Trowa as well swung into his saddle. They traveled at a quick pace for another two hours before coming to a fork in the road. Mara, with no hesitation, took the right fork. But Trowa slowed to a halt. Noticing her companion's pause, Mara reigned in her horse and looked back.

"Trowa," she called.

"I'm going this way," Trowa replied, letting his horse prance towards the left fork. "There is something I must do. There is something about the person or people who attacked that man. He had a coastal accent, and coast mercenaries tend to stick towards the coast."

Mara didn't even blink, but nodded. She'd known he would eventually canter off on his own for some reason or another.

Trowa didn't say anything else, only let his horse continue on down the left road, towards the farming villages that lay closer to the coast.

Mara watched him go, letting her horse carry her slowly away from him. She felt a twinge of uneasiness, as if a warning. Closing her eyes, she prayed.

"May the road rise up to meet you, and the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine always upon your face, and the rains fall soft upon your fields. Until you're home again, let the Dark Mother who watches over all her children hold you safe in her palm," she whispered.

And then... he was gone from sight.

...

When Wolfram, of the Bielefeld family, opened his eyes, he was quite shocked to find himself in a quaint, homey cottage and not a dank cell or barred wagon. His hands and feet were free, and there was no gag in his mouth. He shifted just a bit, and felt the faint tug of cotton bandages wrapped here and there.

He was free, and someone had treated his wounds. He struggled to sit up.

"Now, now, easy," a soft voice scolded as hands gently pushed him back down. "Don't. You'll tug your wounds open. Me and Hil' spent too much time patching them up. Mama would have done a better job, but the woman across town picked today to have her baby. Thankfully we've learned a thing or two from her. But Mama will be in soon with soup, I think."

A face came into view above him. Honey brown hair... and jade green eyes.

Suddenly, Wolfram remembered exactly how he came to be here.

"You," he accused the woman with the slightly chattering voice. "You saved me."

"I still don't know how she did it either," Another voice exclaimed frustratedly. "Rien, you could have been hurt, standing up to those men."

Wolfram's eyes narrowed at the girl above him. "One moment, you were just standing there. And then all the horses... they went mad. Bucking and kicking, biting. You did that, didn't you?"

He looked around, and found another young woman staring at the green-eyed one in confusion and awe.

"Tarien," was the whisper. "You... you called them, didn't you? You told the horses to fight, didn't you?"

The first girl threw herself into hugging the other.

"I didn't know I could, Hilde," she cried. "The horses always minded me really well, but I didn't know... I never imagined... Oh, Hilde. You don't hate me, do you? I swear I never knew!"

"Tarien, Tarien," the other cooed, petting her hair. "I don't hate you. You weren't raised like I was. You didn't know what that well inside of you was. You're not to blame. And really, you've done amazing for what you do know. We'll get Mama to teach you a little bit, see how the gift works. You might need to learn how to keep animals from acting on your whims, but for now, all's well. You've done well, my lady. So well."

Wolfram began to frown. My lady? Who addressed another commoner as 'My Lady'? And Tarien. Tarien was not a commoner's name. Especially not here in Sanq. Tarien was from the old language. Tar, meaning Bright. Ien, a form of Light, occasionally interpreted as 'Starlight'.

Bright Starlight, he thought. A noble's name. One with great meaning... possibly even prophetic in nature. This girl, for all her seeming to rely on and look up to this other one, was most certainly not a common villager.

Even the way she moved spoke of a grace few commoner's bore. Oh, she did a good job hiding it all. She had the clothes right. Her hair was in loose braid down her back, mussed from working. And it even seemed she sometimes had to force herself to 'roughen' up her voice. It was much too delicate, too well-bred, to belong to a commoner.

"So, stranger," the soft-spoken one said, already back at his side. Was he really zoning out so much that he'd miss her moving? He'd blame it on the injuries, he decided as she slowly, gently helped ease him into a more sitting position. "Who are you, and how'd you come across such ne'er-do-wells?"

Emerald eyes studied her for a moment, before he twitched one shoulder in an attempt at a shrug. "Call me... Wolf. And I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that's no matter." He nodded to the green-eyed 'Lady'. "I owe you my life. And if it's no burden, my family always pays debts owed."

His rescuer- Tarien?- frowned, and the other woman- Hilde?- made a humming noise, interrupting the other before she could say anything..

"You don't have to tell us," the darker one said. "Everyone has their secrets. Just make sure your secret doesn't harm us or this village. We've stayed off the map, so far. We'd like to keep it that way. Let *that* be your payment. To not ruin our lives."

"Hilde," Tarien admonished the sharp tone.

"Off the map..." Wolfram rolled the phrase on his tongue. "So, I assume you both are here, hiding your gifts and living a relatively normal life, even on the edges of a civilization that woul hunt you down and burn you alive if they found you out?"

Hilde shrugged. "Perhaps so. If it's all the same, we'd still like to keep a low profile."

Wolfram struggled to sit up- a bit slower and more calm this time- and Tarien helped him by propping pillows behind him. He finally managed to get a good glimpse at his surroundings. It was indeed a small little cottage, and from the fact there was no light coming in the cracks, he figured it to be night.

"I'll agree to that." He paused. "And, since I do owe my life, I'll even let you know who I am. But first... who are the two of you?" He tilted his head to Tarien. "Her name is one for a noble. Hell, even the way she walks and talks screams that she's nobility." He paused once again, as two thoughts occurred to him. "And her accent places her from Sanq. And she has magick? So Magick has even pervaded the honored blood-lines of Sanq nobility." He chuckled. "Ironic, but fitting."

Tarien and Hilde shared a look. Hilde's was a worried one, and Tarien's was thoughtful.

"You owe her your life," Hilde reminded him. "Blood-debts are powerful things. Do you swear loyalty to her until that debt is payed?"

Wolfram blinked, frowning. Who were these people that they'd collect oaths before revealing anything? "I cannot swear fealty to her, nobility or not. My heart and my sword belong to another. I cannot- will not- forsake that vow."

"Then an oath of friendship," Tarien suggested, and Wolfram could tell the nobility was coming out in her. She was speaking like a well-bred lady. "I won't ask that you serve me. I have no use for that. Just an oath of friendship. I must be sure you are an ally, and won't side against me in anything."

Wolfram thought for a moment, then reached out enough to grab her hand. "That, I swear. For certain until my debt is payed. And perhaps even longer. I won't side against you, and so long as your actions don't contradict my own loyalties, I'll side with you."

Hilde nodded. "Well said, Tarien. Well said... Wolf. Wolf... the woman whose hand you hold, to whom you've swore alliance with... is Tarien Amalia of Vayette, Duchess of Tearan, Princess of Sanq."

"Former Princess and Duchess," Tarien interupted.

Wolfram's mouth dropped open. Had he just allied with... a Kushrenada? "You... you're Kushrenada's daughter!"

"NO!" The speed with which she jumped up and snatched her hand away was astounding- as was the hatred burning in her eyes. "No. I am the daughter of Tauri of Vayette and Amalia of Tearan, who was sister to the current king, Treize Kushrenada."

"The thrice-damned bastard stripped her of her titles and cast her out," Hilde supplied. "And, if it's any consolation, we hate Treize just as much as the next magick users. Perhaps more so, all things considering."

Wolfram nodded, thinking. If what they said was true... then he could trust them. Yuuri would understand. He was alone in an unfamiliar country, and Yuuri always wanted him to be more trusting and less cynical, right?

Well, he felt comfortable around these people. He felt he could trust them.

"Alright. A deal is a deal, then. Ladies, my name is Wolfram of the Bielefeld family, fiance' to the current ruler of the Western Ki-Lin clans, strongest fire-wielder in my family, and third and youngest son of Cecelie of Spitsburg, former Queen of the Western Ki-Lin clans."

He somewhat expected the curious and surprised look from Tarien, but the absolute shock on Hilde's face confused him somewhat. Surely it wasn't all that surprising that a beautiful boy like him was a Prince Consort?

And then, the sound of shattering clay echoed in the room. Shards of a red bowl and splatters of soup splashed and scattered on the floor. Everyone looked up at the positively frightened, confused and shocked woman in the doorway. Her hair was a warm brown, and her eyes were the same familiar sweet sapphire blue as Hilde's. For a moment, Wolfram wondered why he hadn't seen that in Hilde. Those eyes, so very familiar.

"Hello, Little Wolfram," the woman finally found her voice, though that voice didn't sound all that very happy to see him.

But it was Wolfram whose turn it was to look shocked as he looked upon a woman that everyone had thought was dead, a woman he barely remembered as more than a few paintings and memories. A woman he only recognized because she looked oh-so-much like a darker version of his own mother. He swallowed, face pale as snow.

"Hello, Aunt Cecilia."