The Fire Inside
Book 1
Jarrod Carmody
Prologue
A long time ago when the races were young, a great red dragon awoke on a filthy, greedy woodland elf trying to make away with his treasure. The elf begged and pleaded for his meaningless life, but the dragon didn't hear it, he took in a mighty breath, but right before he released his fire upon the weak huddled form on the ground. The elf promised him his first born daughter. His wish was granted. The dragon made the young female elf obey his every whim, and using her to spawn his young, this is how the mighty fire elves became.
This is the story that the very young and beautiful Salenya'fe told the young prince Ferrin'fe every night as they prepared for his rest. Salenya was about 4'5 with long black hair and slightly red tinted skin; she was thin only 95 lbs. She had sharp facial features and deep purple simmering eyes. She wore tight leather straps around her waist, abbes and under her breasts which showed off all her bodily curves. Salenya wore a sleeve less blue and purple swirled vest which showed off her toned bicep's. Salenya stepped into the low lit meditation chamber and placed Ferrin on his luxurious red velvet bed. She looked around making sure no one was watching, bent down and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead. Ferrin glared back at her disapproving of the affection. His eyes burned with the evil that had resided in all the fire elves for many years. At only a week old, the ritual of offering had already been preformed, and Ferrin's soul had been opened to their god, which had infested the body with evil, but also it fills it with strength.
As the prince's eyes closed. Salenya started to get flashing images of her past, of her mother.
As Salenya looked back, her mother had flipped the hood of her cloak up and turned away, opening the door and running down the hall. Salenya remembered feeling dread as she heard her mother's screams coming from down the hall. She poked her head out of the door way to see what was happening, and began to run down the stone hall when a tall, old female elf in royals robes walked around the corner, wiping her dagger's blade on a bloodstained cloth. It evidently didn't belong to her because she cast it aside and slid her dagger back into the sheath on her belt. Salenya recognized her as the queen of the house. As Salenya ran by the old woman, who was still very muscular for her age, the queen picked Salenya up by the throat and brought her to her face. She said with a smile: "Your mother was an ungrateful bitch, so I cut her throat. So run along before you must meet the same fate." With that she threw Salenya to the floor and went on walking. Salenya could still fell the scar on the back of her head were it had hit the stone. The young girl got up, feeling her throat too horrified to believe that her mother had been brutally murder. A tear rolled down her face as she realized she was the only hair of her mother so see had to take her place as the royals slave. She whipped the tear away and walked back to her room understanding that to show any affection was death.
Chapter 1
The beginning
Salenya, now well into her 60's, which is still very young for an elf, has been appointed to the role of servant for master Ferrin of the Feydenya household. She has not been drafted into the military yet because she is not of age for another 50 years. When Salenya caught herself daydreaming she shook her head and came back to her life where she found herself back in her room lying on her cot looking up at the mural on her ceiling of a great battle. It had taken place between the dwarves of the great mountains and the mighty fire elves. The artist had drawn a small party of fire elves trampling over an ocean of burning dwarves. Salenya began to wonder is Ferrin was done with his sparing lesson yet. He'd been in the training room with Zammest all morning and hadn't taken a break since he started. Salenya didn't want to interrupt, Ferrin hates when people interrupt.
The young elf's sweat sprinkled the sand that he knelt on trying to catch his breath. Ferrin didn't want to appear weak to his trainer Zammest. Who was the weapons master of Feydenya the ninth house on the volcanic fields of Ojtinilith. Zammest stood a full 5'9 which is unusually tall for an elf but he was as graceful as a hunting cat and as quit as a shadow.
Ferrin got up to his feet once more looking at Zammest just standing there with his hands resting on the pommels of his weapons. Ferrin knew Zammest was mocking him, hate filled Ferrin's eyes as his feet begin turning. It almost seemed as though he'd covered the 60 feet between them in a blink of an eye. Ferrin drove his rapier for Zammest abdomen. Zammest side stepped the thrust easily sighing as he stuck his foot out and tripped Ferrin as he hit him in the back of the head with his hand. He watched him hit the ground just as hard as last time, and getting a mouth full of dirt as well. "I tolled you Ferrin anger only makes it worse". "You have to learn how to control your anger". Ferrin stood up sputtering curses under his breath. Ferrin thought, how dare him, who is he to tell a pure blood such as my self what to do or how to fight. Ferrin fed up with this foolishness walked to the weapons wall and retrieved his long sword. Zammest only laughing at him now, he knew he could easily dispatch the young boy quickly but what fun would that be, he drew his curved dagger and scimitar and took his fighting form with a smirk. Ferrin stalked toward Zammest, shuffling his feet through the sand covering the floor.
Ferrin sharply shucked wind in between his teeth, "ya dame nurse." "That's my lip."
The nurse looked at Ferrin's cut and bruised face. She reached for the sickly brown colored liquid sitting on her medicine rack. "Master Ferrin, you should never have lost your temper." The nurse said as she roughly whipped the blood from Ferrin's brow.
Ferrin sat on a small table in the healer's room. The room was filled with scented candles and wasn't very big so the overwhelming aroma of vanilla filled his senses. There was also a fire place in the corner of the room producing a large amount of heat which was confuting to a fire elf where a human would most likely get dizzy and noshes. The nurse wasn't very good looking, she was very old, and her skin had turned dark purple with age. She was also slightly plump and had unusual shimmering gold eyes. Ferrin's skin was still bright red which showed his youth.
When the nurse had finished stitching up his wounds he hopped off her table and strolled away casually with out a word of thanks. He walked down the bright simmering walls, a slight smell of sulfur lingered. When he was out of sight of the nurse he began to limp and hold his ribs for the pain had consumed him. When he finally made it back to his room he began to wonder were Salenya had taken herself.