From Earth to Fire

[Emora Deen]

Prologue....

The loud thundering sound of the door being struck once again caused Della to scream. Boom! Boom! Over and over, she knew that soon they would plunge their way into her grandfather’s home and kill them both, taking with them the one thing that the world did not need to fall into the hands of a want-to-be tyrant.

“Grandfather! We haven’t got time! There coming in!” Della said as she ran into her bedroom, where her grandfather had been shoving various objects into one of her traveling bags. The last object to go in was a small brown leather bound book with the symbols of fire, earth, water, and air branded onto the front cover.

“Here...” he said, shoving the bag rather harshly into her arms. It knocked the breath out of her lungs, however she recovered quickly. “Take this and go out the back.. I will distract them.” His silky long white hair floated gently as he spun. “This cannot fall into his hands! Go, now to my brother and give him this book. He will know what to do! You will be safe there.”

“But... grandfather...”

“Do not try and stop me, go now and do as I say.... The fate of the world lies in the bag you hold in your arms.” He left the room, waving an arm casually over to the side. Her door closed and locked her in her room... “Grandfather no!”

“Go Della! Go!”

Della stopped thinking... She was too afraid to do anything but run now. She had never been strong, not like her grandfather, not like his brother, and not like her cousin. Edana was far stronger. She climbed out the window of her house and ran as fast as she could. Her long black hair caught in the branches, she didn’t stop. Her hair was pulled and her skin was scratched, yet she ran as fast as she could through the brush and into the forest as a blaze of fire filled the sky. She didn’t stop to look back, she dared not see her uncle fall to his fate before the Hand of Death, the Dark Mage that sought nothing more than to hold the world in the palm of his hand and call it his own.

The thought sent Della into a panic. She had never been the strong type. She was afraid of everything. She couldn’t fight, she couldn’t stand even watching someone get angry. She was as meek as a mouse...

Edana... she was older, braver, smarter... she would know what to do. She always did and besides... she had faced the Hand of Death already once before with Uncle Faren-Ray. She had to know what to do.

* * *











Chapter One:


Edana ducked as a glass flew across the room and smacked into the liqueur bottles behind her head. She stood up and ran towards the other side of the bar. She grabbed the edge and slung herself over it. Dodging and spinning, she narrowly avoid two men throwing themselves around the tavern. It was another deadly night at work at the quaint tavern in Parlaious. She grabbed the two men and through them into the bar, knocking them away from each other. They stood up to attack the man that had knocked them down. In front of them stood a small framed woman with curly strawberry blond hair and fierce green eyes.

“Why you...”

“Sit, stay, and shut up. I might not have you arrested tonight,” she said, then turned towards the crowed. It seemed like even the prostitutes were fighting this night. It seemed as if everyone was filled with rage. Two men, brawling like a bunch of beasts were crashing into several tables. It almost seemed as if they were trying to see how many they could break. Edana picked up a bottle of ale and broke it over one of the mens head. Then she gave a swift kick to the other’s stomach. He dropped to his feet and Edana jumped up onto one of the last remaining tables. She could see this was out of her ability to control.

She pulled something out of her pocket and grabbed a candle hanging from a chandelier. She lit the fuse. Quickly she blew the candle out and knelt down, covering her ears as she tossed the object into the air. It spun upwards until it almost reached the ceiling. A loud squealing sound filled the room and everyone did anything they could to cover their ears from hearing the ghastly sound. Edana closed her eyes to keep from being affected by what would happen next. A blinding light filled the room quickly and then was gone. Stunning all who were there.

When it was quiet and the light was gone Edana stood up and glanced decisively around. Dressed in a red skirt that gradually got shorter on one side, a white blouse with a black corset over the top, and knee-high black boots she was somewhat captivating in her own right. “Now that I have your attention... as I said before, we’re closed. Thank you for dining with us tonight and we do hope to have you back tomorrow night to destroy what is left of what we own. Have a nice night, and get the hell out of my tavern.”She said it with every bit of sarcasm that she had. No one moved they just stood there and watched her. It seemed some were just too drunk to understand.

Edana reached a slender hand into the pocket of her skirt and drew out a small object with a fuse. “Alright... you asked for it. This one might hurt a little...” she said and grabbed another candle. Her startling green eyes sparkled with a bit of dark amusement. She lit the fuse. Just as she did it seemed they got the hint. They scurried to the door, unwilling to hear the noise again. She closed her fingers around the fuse and put the fire out, a smile playing on her lips.

“I do not understand why you call it our or your bar when it is mine...” the tavern owner said as he came out from behind the bar where he had been hiding.

“Because I’m the one that keeps it from getting shredded every night. I’m the one that pores the drinks and endures the constant flirtatious maneuvers. While you hang out behind the bar hoping not to get your pretty little well groomed and manicured face hit with something other than a wash rag. The only thing that gives any credit to you is the fact your name is hanging on the sign outside, Mr. Havick.”

“How dare you talk to me like that!” the young man who was not much older than her shouted. The only reason he own the bar was his father had owned it before him. His father had taken good care of the bar and made plenty of money. So much so that his son had been taken well cared for his entire life. Then Havick Sr. had passed on into the realm of the dead and left Havick Jr. with tavern to take care up if he wished to survive in the lap of luxury he had always been accustomed to.

“Oh, shut up you spoiled little brat, I’m tired of hearing you whine,” she breathed and grabbed her cloak off the far wall.

“Well.... well.... your fired!” he spat to her and folded his arms, straightening his back and standing as tall as possible. He had a rather smug look on his face as Edana stopped in her tracks and looked back at him. She turned completely towards him and folded her arms across her chest, arching an eye brow. For a moment the boy stood there and didn’t flinch or anything, however under the stare of her piercing eyes he shifted on his feet. “Right...” he said and swallowed hard. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then...”

“Tomorrow night, Winston,” she said with a smirk and stepped out onto the street, leaving the rich kid to clean up the mess. The night air was cool... chilly as autumn set in. The wind blew her hair carelessly around as she made her way down the dimly lit dock streets heading towards the small rumble she called home. She smiled as she thought how well Faren-Ray’s contraption had worked to still the fight in the tavern and would have to remind herself to ask for more. She hadn’t seen Faren-Ray in nearly a year, since he was far to busy as the King’s Adviser to come and visit the poor folk like herself. Although she was hardly poor. She was saving her money, hoping to one day buy a ship to sail the ocean.

Edana brushed her curly hair from her face as the wind tossed it around playfully. She liked the autumn nights, the cool air, and how quiet it was. She always loved the silence that autumn brought, since it always seemed more quiet than the summer. She could literally hear, or rather not hear, fall. She enjoyed that. Faren-Ray had always said it was one of her heightened senses that she had inherited from her mother, which was his daughter.

Faren-Ray told her many things about her mother... Unlike her father who had chosen not to mention a thing about her, he liked to pretend that she had never existed. However, since Edana looked exactly like her mother he found it increasingly hard. That is why, she figured, he put her off in Parlaious... After years of sailing with her pirate father, living among the thieves and cut-throats he one day left her in the harbor at the age of eighteen. He left her his old home... and returned once a year to visit her. Though, now he hardly even visited once a year and Edana found it odd how she had become accustomed to having no one.

Her small little home was built off the dock. It creaked and groaned with every wave that splashed upon the pilings that kept it from falling into the ocean. The door was slightly slanted inwards, but that was mainly because of the dome shape the building held. It was a quaint one bedroom/livingroom/kitchen home that suited her needs just as well as anything else.

Edana wasn’t much for paying attention to anything on her way home. She had walked the streets so many times that after the first few months she had lost interest in anything surrounding her. She always saw the same old people, and she always saw the same old sights. The only thing that changed was her home looked just a little bit more like it would fall into the ocean any moment. She had her father’s engineering to blame for that, since he was a captain and not a carpenter.

Her father was the infamous Captain Merek Crow of the WindRunner. Faren-Ray told her that Merek had met his daughter when they had commandeered her vessel to get away from the port authorities. Her mother was drug into a series of misadventures and somewhere along they fell in love. Her father being a young dashing pirate, and her mother a beautiful woman. To Edana it sounded far to much like a fairytale for there to be any actual truth too it.

Edana opened the door to her shabby little home and stepped down the steps into the room. It smelled as it always did, of saltwater and rose soap. It was a peculiar smell that only she seemed to be able tolerate. Possibly because she was so used to it by now. The room was dark, moon light filtering in from the open windows. She took her time lighting the candles that littered the room. After all she wasn’t really in a hurry. She had no place to go, and nothing else to do but enjoy some well deserved super, a hot bath, and fall into the open arms of slumber.

It was late when the sound woke her from her deep sleep. It sounded at first like her whole house was falling into the ocean. She jumped up, curly strands of strawberry-blond hair falling in front of her face. Quickly she blew them out of the way and reached under her pillow for her dagger.

The sound continued and Edana in her half-awake state couldn’t discern where the noise was originating from. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and listened carefully. Finally she knew it was coming from the door. Edana waited a moment longer and it wasn’t until she heard the faint sound of a woman’s breathless voice calling her name did she go to the door.

“Edana! Edana!” The voice sounded familiar. Why did it... Della?

Edana unlatched the door and opened it to find the mud covered, disheveled, and completely torn woman before her. “Della? By the elements... What is going on!”

Della stopped to catch her breath. She opened her mouth to speak, however the sound of clattering hooves over cobblestone distracted her for a moment. Edana narrowed her eyes, confused as she looked back behind Della where three men on horses had road up to the dock that led to her house on the ocean. They were clad in black hoods and cloaks, the gold insignia of a skull with a sword through the top of its head shimmering in the moonlight. Edana’s face quickly became shocked and borderline fearful.

“Get inside!” Della said as the figures moved quickly, drawing the crossbows from their saddle holsters.

Edana grabbed Della and pulled her into the house and slammed the door just as two arrows plunged always completely through the wood. The third must have missed the house completely some how, since Edana didn’t hear it hit.

“Della, why are Lothren’s men chasing you?” she said as she turned to her friend who was hunched over in the darkness clutching her stomach. The woman said nothing, just kept silent to herself. “Della?”

“Take the book to Faren-Ray,” she whispered harshly, gasping for a breath of air.

“What are you talking about!” Edana said, she hated being confused. It annoyed her. Edana froze as she heard the sound of feet stepping closer and closer to her door. The house groaned at the weight of the three figures.

“Take the book to Faren-Ray... He will no what to do,” Della said as she came into the light to reveal the shaft of an arrow protruding from her chest.

Edana’s mouth fell open, her heart beat pausing for a moment and her skin becoming hot suddenly. Shock. “Della...” Edana whispered and ran to her cousin’s side. Della began to crumple to the floor, her cousin helping her gently down.

“Della...” Edana repeated softly, her eyes watering up.

Della fiddled with something on the inside of a bag she was carrying. She draw out a leather bound book and placed it in Edana’s lap. “It must not fall into his hands.”

“Della...”

“Go, please... Before they kill you too,” Della coughed, tears streaming down her soft cheeks.

“I can’t leave you,” Edana said, knowing how afraid of everything Della was. She had to be strong for Della...

Della coughed harshly as the figures outside began to bang fiercely on her door. She grabbed Edana’s hand and squeezed it. The moonlight reflected off of Della’s pale face, a small smile coming to her lips. “Its alright to leave me.” Della squeezed tighter, the tears stopping. “I have nothing left to be afraid of now.”

“Della,” Edana choked, hugging the woman tightly too her. She then leaned back to tell Della to hold on, however it was too late. Della had left for the world of the dead. The banging continued until the hole house was groaning and shaking with the force of the hits. Edana reached down into her lap and grabbed hold of the book. The moonlight made the burned imprint black as night.

Her green eyes narrowed darkly and glanced to the side as the door cracked down the middle. Quickly she grabbed Della’s bag and pushed the book back inside, running to the back of the room and lifting a hatch in the floor. She glanced up a final time as they kicked her wooden door in, causing torchlight to filter into the room.

“You, halt!” one growled, his voice sounding less than human. Edana glared at him, grabbed her sword from the wall and jumped down the hatch into the cold ocean water. If Della wanted that book to reach Faren-Ray so bad she would die for it... Then it would reach Faren-Ray if it was the last thing she did.

Her head crested the surface and she took a deep breath as she brought her arm out of the water, slicing the support ropes. She then took out the support beams after a few whacks from her sword. Her home cracked and groaned like a demon coming to life as it shifted on the pilings. With every hit she made she growled in fury, taking her aggression out on the beams and rope that held her house from falling into the ocean. Finally when the last was struck she swam as fast as she could to get out from under the dangerous building as it shifted and began sliding into the water. The men on the inside let out muffled yells, trying to climb out of the home before it was completely submerged. She watched as one climbed half way out, but fell back down as one of the pilings broke through the flooring where he had been standing. How convenient that it would block there easiest exit.

However, if there was one thing she knew about escaping places, one shouldn’t stay around to make sure the enemy is dead.

Wet, cold, and angry, Edana went running into the night towards Illilorn, silent tears streaming down her wet cheeks. Her feet were bare, her white cotton nightgown stuck to her form, her eyes afire with the rage of losing a loved one. She closed her eyes tightly and froze for a moment. She had to force herself to move after that, her hands shaking. She had to force them not too. She had to be strong... Fear is weakness. However, she couldn’t get the masked figure of Lothren out of her mind. Why was he back in her life? Why couldn’t she be free of him? Edana looked back at the town behind her. Why couldn’t she be left out of the adventures of the world? Why couldn’t she work to save up enough money to have ship of her own? Lead a perfectly normal life... Why must she always get sucked into the world’s affairs.

* * *

The people regarded Faren-Ray as they always would, a thin old man with whimsical silver hair and the most drab and boring wardrobe. Some even saw him as crazy, however it was a select few. It wasn’t wise to call a well-known and accomplished wizard crazy, much less the king’s adviser. Faren-Ray was both, so he had quite a bit of credibility. However, the few that did think he was a few limbs short of a wood pile were to frightened to tell it to his face. He liked it that way too, since he had far too many things to worry about in his line of work.

Today the people of the village surrounding the palace walls watched Faren-Ray as he bustled quite briskly towards the front entrance, carrying a stack of scrolls in his arms and looking over his shoulder like the paranoid old man that he was. It left the people wondering just what Faren-Ray was so worried about with those rolled up pieces of parchment.

“Move, move, move,” the old man grumbled, not noticing how rude he was being. The guards shifted out of the way to allow the old man to pass into the courtyard. Several soldiers were training, sparing as if they had nothing better to do.

Faren-Ray shifted around them as one seemed to purposely swing his blade playfully in Faren-Ray’s way. Faren-Ray couldn’t see the face of the soldier, his helmet was pulled down and his armor was broad. All he knew was the tall figure was trying to kill him. Though, of course the paranoid old man didn’t notice how the soldier was attacking him playfully, as a friend would entice a buddy.

The soldier swung at him again, purposely missing the soldier.

“Stop it, before I cast a disfiguring spell upon you!” the wizard said as the soldier went to strike him down, according to Faren-Ray.

“Well, that would be terrible for me, wouldn’t it old man...” the deep voice said to him, the accent caused the man to enunciate every word seemingly perfect. The soldier put his sword into the sheath and lifted the helmet off the top of his head. He was a tall man, close to six feet with shoulder-length black hair. His face was strong, masculine, and at the moment it held a broad smile. “How am I supposed to impress the countless women that cross my path if you take away this Godly figure of mine.”

“I should disfigure you anyway, Ulrich,” Faren-Ray said, waving a thin finger at the man as a smile slowly came to his face. “You should be ashamed of yourself for giving a man as old as I such a scare.”

“If you weren’t so paranoid you would have realized I was playing a joke,” Ulrich said.

“I am not paranoid... I am observant!”

“I call that paranoid,” Ulrich said, leaning against the brick railing to the steps that led up to the palace doors. “Being observant in battle is one thing, being observant as you go to the market is a little thing I like to call paranoid.”

“A man such as I is always at war with the forces of darkness.” Faren-Ray held the scrolls close to his chest and arched his head upward, pointing his noise into the air. “Therefore I must be alert at all times.”

“So what have the stars told you now to get you all bothered up?” the knight said, glancing around at the other men sparring. “Or will I find out tonight at the council meeting.” Faren-Ray’s expression had changed when Ulrich looked back at him, it was hard and concerned, and for a moment Ulrich thought he saw fear...

“Walk with me,” the old wizard said and turned to head up the steps to the palace. Ulrich followed, holding his helmet under his arm.

“Last night while I was gazing into the stars a vision came to me...” the old man said once they were in the seclusion of the palace. “I saw this kingdom burn to the ground. I saw a masked figure upon a black war horse. His mask was made of metallic black, and he was clad in black robes. He wore the insignia of the Hand of Death... He was the Black Mage, Lothren.”

Ulrich blinked, almost stopping dead in his tracks. “Was this a vision... or a dream. I’d really like to hear the words dream...”

“It was a vision sent to me to warn me of his comings...” Faren-Ray concluded.

“But, what could he possibly be after?” the knight said quickly, turning completely towards the wizard.

“I don’t know... I think we should find out, though, and quickly. We haven’t much time, I can feel it in my bones.” Faren-Ray said.

“You old men and your bones,” Ulrich said, trying his best to make the situation better. “What if he’s already on his way?”

“Who’s the paranoid one now?” Faren-Ray grinned from ear to ear in a satisfied

“That’s not being paranoid, that’s questioning your time-line,” Ulrich argued as the two men entered the throne room.

The room was large, the ceiling going at least fifty feet into the air. The floors were white marble with a sapphire blue design in the middle. Large windows lined the room, at the tops stained glass depicted scenes in the history of Illilorn. Two thrones sat at the head of the room, at the moment they were empty, but soon the king would be seated in one of them and the council would meet to discuss the possible threat that Faren-Ray’s visions foretold.