Hey folks. Fiyr!

Chapter 14 - Fiyr

There's a hazy fog around everything.

The only thing I can clearing see is a beautiful, shimmering crystal, glittering with white light and searing my vision. It flickers prismatically, filled with millions of tiny bubbles of colour and threads of metallic shimmers.

I squint, but my vision is spotty from the brightness. I can't move, I can't speak, I can only stare at the crystal. The air is heavy and earthy around me, like breathing straight fog, and I find myself choking for air, and sinking to my knees.

The world tips sideways as I pass out.

Then my ears explode with screams.

I choke out a pained cry of my own at the assault on my senses as I roll onto my back, only to be trampled by giant, hulking shadowy figures as they charge into battle. But it's not a battle, it's a hunt, and I'm hurtling through the woods behind them.

The dark forms of the shadow-knights begin to hack and slash their way through the fallen group of warriors that we've come to.

I recognize them. Their terror-stricken faces flash, Sir Wynnd, Lady Fyrra, Lady Fuor, Sir Teyl, all wide-open with screams and twisted in horror and pain. Where's Sir Hartef and Sir Cawle?! They can help! I think foggily, but the two knights are nowhere to be seen.

I hear a familiar voice.

Graie's anguished howl echoes in my ears.

"Graie!" I scream out, and then I wake up.

"Fiyr? Are you alright?" It's the low grunt of my mentor, Sir Cawle.

I'm shaking from the dream, or maybe shaking because he's got a meaty hand around me and is agitating my shoulders.

"Bizarre dream, I'm fine," I mumble once I've got my bearings back, wiping the sleep out of my bleary eyes with the back of my hand. He pulls away and stands up, looking down at me.

"Well, get up. Queen Bluelianna is ready to depart for the Lunar Temple shortly. Wake the other squires," he orders, and turns sharply to leave me to my dressing.

I dress quickly then quietly knock against the wall by each squire's nook to alert them.

Ravne bursts out immediately, still in his ragged sleep-clothes, hair wild, but relaxes when he sees me and disappears behind the curtain to dress. Waking Graie proves more difficult; the guy could sleep through a hurricane.

I knock him over the head with a textbook of kingdom lore that he was definitely not actually reading, gently of course, and he snaps awake with a, "Huh, whazza?"

Gathering my resolve, I tiptoe towards where Samn and Duss share two neighbouring nooks. It'll be tricky to wake up Samn without also disturbing Duss, so I push back the curtain gently. Just break up his sleep a bit and Duss'll never be wiser.

I'm momentarily distracted by how peaceful Samn looks, nearly angelic while his face isn't twisted in condescension and scorn, then an idea strikes me.

Sir Cawle didn't say how to wake the other squires…

A devious plan begins to form.

He deserves it, right? Just a harmless prank; not like he hasn't done worse…

Ducking out of the squire's wing and heading for the kitchens, I fetch a glass quickly and fill it with ice-cold water, then creep back into the squires' wing. No harm, no foul…

I've pushed the curtains of Samn's nook aside delicately when I see that he's rolled over. What's the point in pouring water on the back of his head? No… I have to roll him back over…

Holding my breath, I gently take hold of his shoulder and pull him onto his back. His unconscious body limply complies, and I line up the water glass with his face, and…

A hand flies up and grips my hand, closing like a vice around it.

A scream dies in my throat before it can even start as Samn claps his other hand along with a leather hilt across my mouth.

"Shh, don't want to wake up Duss, do we?" he practically croons.

I realize that the leather hilt is attached to a small, cruelly curved dagger.

Not caring as the water in the glass sloshes over across the front of my tunic, I jump backwards. Samn's grip tightens around my wrist and I stifle a whimper, instead settling for a hopefully intimidating scowl.

"Let go or I'll splash you," I hiss as menacingly as I can.

"More than you've splashed yourself?" he points out with a snort, then drops my wrist. "I assume, following orders like a good god-toy, you were 'waking me up'?"

I bite back a growl at the hypocrisy, then give him a winsome smile. "Yup! Glad you're ready to go! Get dressed, we're leaving in thirty seconds."

It's not true, but I grasp at any possibility of catching him off guard.

"And that's why Sir Cawle told you to wake the other squires up one minute before we left, I'm sure," Samn returns, equally amiably with a serpentine smirk. "Good try."

I stomp out of the room.

The travelling group converges in the throne room, where I see the queen has changed attire drastically. In my paltry years at the kingdom, the queen has hardly ever been in anything other than ceremonial robes and dresses, other than the very first day when I saw her in the regular Thundrian training uniform.

I've studied all the big wars and voyages, but the focus usually isn't on the attire and it takes me off guard when I see that she's wearing a black cloak edged in red, buttoning down the front and then blooming out from her hips, and some kind of beige pants with more pockets than I can count.

Suffice to say, I am desperate to try it on.

When Graie enters in his rumpled training uniform, my heart falls as it becomes clear that only the queen seems to have special travelling uniform.

Sir Cawle is wearing the standard uniform, though he has a large bundle of brown, coarse fabric in his arms and begins handing them out to us.

They're heavy cloaks, though simply the type to drape around one's shoulders.

"It gets cold on the moors. Eat your herbs," the queen says softly, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular as though she's deep in thought.

Mine doesn't fit, and I hoist it around my waist to try to at least allow for walking. Samn's doesn't either; his only makes it to just underneath his knees before it cuts off. Neither of us suggests switching.

I internally sulk that Samn's looks like the queen's because of the fit, whereas these cloaks are obviously meant to fall below the shin, if Sir Tigre, Ravne, and Graie's are any standard to measure against.

"Squires, meet us beneath the castle," the queen interrupts my musings. "Make sure you've eaten all the herbs."

I guiltily stuff the handful of leaves into my mouth and start chewing, then fight off a wince as the tongue-curlingly bitter flavour.

"Why can't we have a proper breakfast and then just take food with us?" Graie whines.

"It's not your place to question these things," Sir Cawle reprimands him, but the queen gives an indulgent smile.

"It's quite alright. The reason is that it will keep your hunger away for longer and they'll make the long ride easier. We need to make good time, so the fewer bags to carry the better," the queen explains, striding towards the doors of the castle, giving a nod to Brindellia Faise on her way by, who waves cheerfully to her and her son. "Besides, you're better off than me. It's hard to commune with the Starlaxi if you're not on an empty stomach, so I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Safe journey!" Sir Hartef calls out as we walk across the castle terrace.

Graie and I fetch Quicksilver and Blitz from the stables, and Samn and Ravne lead Dune and Indigo to the break in the foliage and promptly disappeared.

"Eatmy looks just as upset as Duss," Graie jokes, and I snort because it's true. Eatmy, Duss's horse, paws and huffs at the ground as her companions are led away.

Once the whole group is assembled at the bottom of the trees, we set off towards Wynnd. It's a path I know well, though we've never crossed the solstice pavilion onto their territory of course, only had little glimpses into the land.

We've been riding for a few hours and the sun climbs into the sky lazily when we finally reach the solstice pavilion and ride across it to Wynnder territory. Miles of fields and hills spread out in front of us, little stretches of farmland and towns dwarfed by the vastness of the open sky.

"Be careful. We do no wrong by crossing, but that was Wynnd's rule, and there's no telling how far Shodawa will go," Queen Bluelianna warns, and I shudder despite the sun. "We'd best cross quickly. Everyone steady?"

I nod, knowing that however sore my backside is, nothing's worth slowing down the queen's need to confide in our ancestors.

"Clear!" Sir Cawle declares, and we set off a gallop.

It's terrifying to finally let Blitz free on flatlands, and I sense her exhilaration. The only one in our group who seems to share it is Samn, who cackles with glee as Dune whips across the moor.

Queen Bluelianna and Sir Cawle's faces are set with anxiety, and Graie and Ravne are exchanging worried glances. I'm just trying not to puke.

Half an hour later, the peaks of the mountains tower against the horizon, and Sir Cawle calls out in a low hiss, "Shodawa!"

The queen instantly spurs Lazuli into a full sprint, and we make it through the last part almost twice as quickly as the rest. The rest of us hurry after her, and my stomach flips in protest.

When we pass the Wynnder border that separates their territory from the world outside, marked with the Wynnder life-force visible even without going into the Trace, the queen stops her horse abruptly.

"Halt!" Sir Cawle shouts, and with some awkward swerving, everyone dismounts without injuring anyone.

I double over and puke.

"Oh great," Samn snaps scornfully.

"Let's move a little ways away and find shelter for the horses," the queen intervenes diplomatically.

Spitting out the remnants of my bile, I scowl at Samn and we lead out steeds towards a shadier patch of trees.

The mountains are colossal from up close. I expected as much, obviously, but the feeling of looking straight up and not being able to see the top makes my stomach turn uncomfortably.

"We'll cross the soulpath and enter the Temple at sundown," the queen declares, tying Lazuli to a tree. The gray mare munches peacefully on oats from the queen's saddlebag as though she wasn't wildly sprinting across the moorlands less than a few minutes ago.

Sir Cawle nods, and leads his horse, Edge, to another tree. Following suit, the squires and I help to set up camp for the day.

The queen unloads the meagre packings that we strapped to the horses, only breakfast for tomorrow and a few tightly rolled pads of weaved rushes, presumably for Ravne and Samn to sleep on outside.

After a few hours of lazing about in the sun with Graie as Ravne buries his nose in a book he produced from thin air and Samn goes off a little ways on his own, Queen Bluelianna finally calls us over to head into the Temple.

Nerves twist in my stomach. I'll finally see the Starlaxi in all their blessed glory… but we have to cross the soulpath first.

As we approach the glass trail, the setting sun reflects oranges and gold off the pearly surface.

The air above the glass fizzles with hot white energy sporadically as the pure souls of gods whip past us. The tang of god-magic is harsh on my tongue, with a different taste than usual; strangely spicy and dry, making my mouth feel like it's shrivelling.

I cough involuntarily, and Sir Cawle gives me a surprisingly sympathetic look.

"Ravne, why don't you cross first?" the burly knight suggests abruptly, giving his ex-squire a harsh stare.

"I—I—okay," he stammers and takes a tentative step towards the path.

"I had better show them how first," the queen countermands immediately, stepping up next to Ravne and gently pushing him back. I catch my breath as I notice that the star on her forehead is reacting to being this close to the Lunar Temple. Usually, it only seems iridescent if it catches the light at a certain moment, but it's positively glittering now.

She stands at the edge of the path, though her boot tips don't even graze the pearly glass; she's careful to stay on the long grass. Unfazed by the heady magic or fizzing of the god souls flying past, she clasps her hands together in front of her and closes her eyes.

As she holds that position, blue light begins to softly light her from underneath, then an ice-cold wind whips up and her cloak and hair flare around her.

An instant later, she's tense and bracing, then she half-dives half-charges across the path in a burst of shards of ice and snowflakes.

The cold, bitter wind she produced stings my cheeks briefly, and I watch as she turns to face us, her form's edges dashed by the shimmers of souls.

"You need to interrupt their magic!" she calls across. "Use yours and imagine placing a stone in a river to block the flow. Then don't waste any time getting yourself across."
Graie steps forward, clasping his hands the same way nervously. His eyes flutter shut, but for several tense moments, nothing happens.

Then gray light begins to weakly flicker at the edges of his coarse brown cloak, but not nearly bright enough. It comes in and out, like sunlight filtering through tree branches, before something seems to click and his whole body flares silver and he takes up a running stance, more like a moorhen then the queen's crouching tiger, but all the same, ash bursts from the ground of the soulpath, warding off the souls.

Graie charges across, not a heartbeat too soon as the soul pierce the ash and shoot across.

He's panting, but bursting with pride and whoops, "Yeah! Easy as pie."

Samn goes next, his body glowing with weak yellow light, and throws up a layer of sand in front of the souls.

He's only made two clinking steps onto the path when the souls finally press through the tiny gaps of the sandy wall and his cloak tears.

Unimpeded, he sprints across the last few metres, before dropping to his knees.

"Samn!" The queen runs to his side and yanks off the cloak to reveal a long, bleeding gash on his pale arm. After a moment, she looks up at us and calls out, "It's alright! It's shallow, and I have bandages."

To his credit, he seems to barely be wincing, though he rolls over and cradles his arm, unfazed as his own blood drips over his fingers.

"Ravne!" Sir Cawle shouts. "Go!"

The squire is trembling so hard he can barely make it to the edge, and I silently pray to the Starlaxi to help him cross.

Hands shaking, he presses them together and closes his eyes, heavy black lashes fluttering shut in a look of intense concentration.

Almost immediately, purple and black light begins to dance across him like the Blacklands themselves are shining over him. His arms tense as he pushes his hands tighter together, and there's a bursting cry of ravens as they begin to flit across the sides of the path, cutting off the souls' transit.

Ravne, after a moment of hesitation, begins to run, then stop abruptly on the path, staring in horror as the souls that bash into the wall of ravens kill the birds, the bodies thunking dully on the glass. More appear, saving Ravne from being shattered by the impact of a soul, but he's not moving.

"Ravne! Fucking go!" Sir Cawle snarls, and his squire stumbes forwards a few steps, enough to save him as the flock of ravens cease and the bodies disappear.

He stares back across the path wildly, searching for the bodies of the ravens, and finding none, drops to the ground, spindly legs collapsing in front of him as he sits and stares at the path.

"I'll cross last!" Sir Cawle calls across the path.

Which means it's my turn.

Trying not to let my knees knock together, I walk to the edge of the path and gather my hands in front of me. I concentrate and feel the warmth of my own body. Go outside. Come on, come out and warm the air up...

I can feel the heat rolling off me, but I don't know if it's enough. My eyes are closed; is there fire stopping the souls? Can I go?

I can't open my eyes unless I'm going and I can't go unless I know that it's safe and I can't know if it's safe unless I open my eyes!

Taking a deep breath, I put my faith in the Starlaxi and charge forwards blindly.

It's deafeningly loud inside.

My steps falter as the roar of my fire and the sharp pops of the souls crashing against the wall of flame disorients me.

"Not you too!" Sir Cawle yells.

I feel the yell crack through my concentration. The fire's about to dissolve, I'm going to die, I'm going to get smushed…

Two strong hands connect with my back, and the roar of the fire ceases as Tigre Cawle shoves me across the rest of the soulpath and onto the grass on the other side. I stumble down and land on my knees.

I yelp, but my throat immediately closes up with relief. That was way too close.

"Got distracted?" Samn sneers.

"You're one to bloody talk!" I snap back.

To my dumbfounded surprise, he flicks his arm at me and sends a shower of red drops onto my tunic.

"Now you're one bloody too!" he exclaims with a weird high laugh.

"I gave him a sedative," the queen tells me, rooting through her bag for the bandages. "No corruption, thank the Starlaxi."

There's a thump on the grass as Sir Cawle makes it as well.

The queen passes him the tightly rolled sleeping pads and we walk the last few minutes to get to the bottom of the silver peaks. White pillars support the yawning entrance of a cavern that I suppose to be the front door of the Lunar Temple.

"Sir Cawle, Ravne, and Samn, you will take shifts keeping watch while we are inside," she directs, then nods to Graie and I. "Let's go; it's time."

The first thing I notice about the Lunar Temple is that it's gigantic.

The first chamber gives the impression of a long-abandoned throne room or great hall. Large white pillars stretch up like ghostly tree trunks to support the cracked marble roof.

Even the ancient and decrepit room gives the impression of incredible power and tranquility. It's like wading through stone, peaceful and silent.

The queen's mind seems elsewhere, but Graie and I exchange glances of wonder, looking up to see the vast, arching ceiling. We proceed into one of the more inner chambers, which is much like the first, only smaller. There's a strange sculpture thing in the middle of the room which I realize as we pass it is actually a fountain. I'm sure it's been dried up for centuries. We've only been walking for about five minutes when we reach another large chamber, though this one isn't deserted. In fact, only a thin stretch of floor rings around the massive crystal in the centre of the room.

Graie immediately steps back, but I'm entranced.

The vast diamond glitters from within, hundreds of thousands of tiny, shimmering gems casting points of colourful light against the room's walls.

I squint against the light, and see what appears to be tiny glittering strands of metal twisting through the diamond, around the gems.

It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

It's familiar too; the dream returns to me, and I feel a chill at the memory of the hulking shadows and the screams of other people at the court. I hope this is the only part of the dream that becomes reality...

Queen Bluelianna steps into the room reverently, and kneels in front of the diamond. After a moment, she begins to murmur something inaudible.

Graie and I watch uncertainly as she leans forwards and rests her forehead against the pure light of the diamond. It takes me a moment to realize that's also where the star on her forehead is located.

On instinct alone, I walk over carefully and kneel beside her. She's still murmuring, but her body has gone limp like the crystal alone is supporting her.

After a beat, Graie copies me and we sit in silence for a moment.

I shift uncomfortably, and it's like an electric shock as my forehead tilts down a little to better connect to the diamond.

Cold sweeps through my body and I fall into a deep, dark sleep.

I'm awoken by the queen frantically shaking me awake.

"We need to get back to the castle immediately!"

Thanks for reading chapter 14! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!

~Akila