The tears of the great sun descended, as it does each year, on the realm below, bringing with it the promise of Rai Uz of sustenance, rejuvenation and the birth of new life.
Strange it was, the sorrow of Daidra, the pain she felt because of her cursed children, brought life to the lands. The Tears of Daidra; four months of non-stop rain, without which the radiance of her smile would destroy all.
Her tears pounding, this dark cold night, on the roofs of the buildings below were a blessing, but to the child, soul the personification of fire, it did not seem so. In the fireplace, fire flickered and cracked, its warmth and beauty he seemed to try to capture with his hands.
Covered in bright golden feathers with his fingers spread wide, his hands were literally touching flames.
Fire furled and curled around his tiny majestic feathers, intermingling and with them becoming one. His lips moved, he whispered but no one heard the words, for no sound came, besides there was no one around to hear.
Dressed in black, he wore a robe touching the floor. His mane was long, shiny and black, ending just below his waist. His irises were golden yellow, like an inferno roaring around the darkness of his pupils. The long black sleeves of the robe were pulled back, revealing a thick coat of tiny golden feathers covering his forearms, from his elbows to his knuckles. He had pointy ears like an elf and flawlessly pale skin. He was no ordinary child.
Thousand of races inhabiting the world, it would be hard to find the one he belonged to, he knew this and loneliness was the result of this knowledge. Only fire, he felt at ease where it was, for fire was his only companion.
His room, his chamber was large and circular. Almost completely white, a stark contrast to his demeanor, with friezes of the Sfins--Rai Zohar's mighty winged army, in battle against the grotesque, twisted, reptilian-like followers of the dark Rai adorning the walls. A reminder or a warning? He was not sure why this was chosen as his quarters. A dome served as the ceiling, and mirror like black tiles were the floor. Darkness belonged under the feet of the righteous, to be trampled into nothingness. Again, a warning or reminder that he should know his place. Before him was the fireplace, his fire place, wider than two tall men lying across and taller than the flat land giants, and they could grow up to twenty feet tall. The ever burning flame that was kept alive even in the hottest summer days, danced and leapt higher than he was. His fire, his only companion.
He had not appeared out of thin air, he was born of a mother, but the lesser Sfin that gave birth to him was not his mother, not in the true sense of the word. She was a surrogate and this was made clear to him since the day of his birth. He was kept away from her.
How could his guardians, the monks of the temple of the moon Lumeira, be this cruel? He was a part of her body for nine months, there was already a bond. They were severing it and torturing him.
Only fire, he had only fire. The gold of his feathers merged with the gold of the flames, he absorbed the heat and asked for more. He received only heat, no whisper of kind words, and no loving embrace. Only fire, for he was alone.
He turned away from the fireplace and even more resented the tears of the great sun and the cold loneliness it brought.
"Damn the rain and the coldness it brings, if it was warm I would not feel like this." He lied to himself and he knew it was a lie. He felt sorry for himself, then angry. "I am pathetic."
He looked up in surprise at the peculiar Sfin standing before him. Sfins, these divine creatures were created by the great Rai Zohar to serve as the armies of the Rais. There were seven classes; Michai, Uruai, Gabrai, Raphai, Selaphai, Jegudai and Barachai. All of varying might, serving as guards, messengers, warriors or even assassins. All were tall--over seven feet--and slender with long white to platinum hair, feathers, like his covering their forearms,
wings and blue eyes.
Not this one, her hair and her feathers were a brilliant scarlet, her eyes were green and she had no wings. This inability to take flight made her a lesser Sfin. The child recognized her immediately, Rhona. The change of the hue of her eyes, her hair and feathers was a result of his conception. How long has she been standing here? He wondered.
Her skin was smooth and pale, so smooth it seemed unreal, almost like a mirage, a dream of sorts. The light blue robe she wore was simple and unadorned, the sleeves were short, ending at her elbows, leaving her coat of feathers untouched. Her large green crystal clear eyes held his attention, leaving her line thin lips and nose almost unseen.
"Are you cold?" She asked. He pulled his gaze from her eyes and now noticed the thick black and gold blanket she held.
He did not answer, he wanted to, she was his mother as far as he was concerned and he wanted so badly to speak with her but his lips would not move. A spell?
She walked to him, knelt and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. His eyes met and held hers, for the first time being this close to her, he found within them, within these emeralds, concern.
Say something, say anything, do not let her leave.
Still his lips would not move. He looked away.
"Better?" She asked. Still no answer, in fact he was motionless. She stood and turned to leave.
"Sta... Stay." He stammered, his voice barely audible. She hesitated, and then took a step away. "Mother please... Please stay. Stay with me, at least for a little while." It was a surprise that he could voice his feelings to her, he never could. Cruel monks.
She turned to face him, searching his golden eyes. There was silence and he again became aware of the rain on the roof.
"Aimar..."
His eyes fell from hers, she had to say no more, he already knew what she was about to say. He left her and returned to his fireplace. He let the blanket fall from his shoulders and again stretched his hands towards the flames. Only fire.
His vision blurred and tears rolled involuntarily down his cheeks. Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Aimar? Stupid boy.
Two arms covered in a thick coat of tiny scarlet feathers pulled his hands away from the fire before enveloping him. He did not move, surprise held him motionless. It was his first true embrace, his first hug.
How am I to react, what should I do? What is the right thing to do?
Her cheek pressed against his as the embrace got tighter.
"Relax, do what comes naturally." He turned and hugged her as she spoke. Without thought his eyes closed to shut out the rest of the world.
There was only Rhona, his mother and he. Nothing else, nothing else mattered.
She released him, stood and walked away. He watched her. Should he say anything? Would saying something destroy any chance he had of getting close to her again? He folded his fist tightly, his nails dug into his palms. Damn it, this was too important to risk ruining. He bit his lower lip.
"Why?" What are you doing, Aimar. "Why mother?"
She stopped, but did not turn to face him. "You seemed to have needed it."
"That was not what I meant," Aimar replied. He fell silent, observing her closely. "Why do you not love me?"
Silence again and he held his breath. Tension was suffocating him, for he was afraid. He was afraid of what she might or might not say.
The rain pounded the roof and the fire cracked. His breath came out long and whining, his head dropped, was there to be an answer?
Rhona turned to face him, he met and held her eyes.
Tell me you do not hate me, tell me I do not disgust you. That would do, that much from you would make me happy, mother.
"Why do you think I do not love you?" She watched his expression changing. Subdue happiness, then a question. Did her question mean she did love him? "Rules are rules," she replied.
He stepped towards her, offering her the blanket. "I know rules are rules. That much I do know, that is all I know. The rules."
"Yes I guess you do." She took the blanket and looked away, seeming to can no longer hold his gaze. "Would, you like to sleep... With me tonight?"
Her eyes, large and green and clear, again met his. He seemed surprised and a bit confused.
"What of the rules?" He paused, shedding this facade of confusion and adapting his familiar one of sadness. "And... I do not sleep."
"Are you coming?" She asked as she turned and left the room.
The room was large, cold and empty, no furniture, only a large ornate rug in its center and to the eastern wall, his fireplace. The fire cracked as his eyes came to rest on it.
"Forgive me," he whispered. "I can not stay with you, not tonight, not when she would have me." The flames flared, brightening the room for a moment then reverted to normal.
"Go..." Her voice disappointed?Sad?
He backed away into the hallway beyond the exit of the room. She was the only one who really knew him, the one who stayed with him no matter the cost. Now he was deserting her because he had received the smallest of attention from his mother. She? When did fire become a person, a woman?
He turned away. "Just this one night let me go, with the dawn of the morrow and the return of the now sleeping monks you shall again have me. So please let me go."
Silence, her voice had abandoned him. He deserved it, for she had a right to be angry. His head and his shoulders dropped as he walked away.
The hallways were beautiful. Massive, with the ceiling, golden and decorated with carvings of the Sfins, seeming an eternity away. The floors were black with the tiles unblemished and mirror-like. The supporting pillars were gigantic, black and ringed by gold at their bases, framing white walls. Beauty was lost to him, for his mind was far away.
He halted suddenly, a scent had caught his nose and as it as always done, it had stopped him in his tracks. He realized now where he was. To his right, where the hallway branched, flowers and plants of all sorts grew and flourished. The living quarters of the Nymphs, the Rai of Light's greatest gift to this world. Pleasant it was that their presence caused the flourishing of nature.
As if by magnetism he left his intended path. He was once told of the many over the centuries that have waned away gazing at the faces of these sultries, craving for what they can never possess.
He walked now, as they must have done and how he had done on so many occasions before when his guardians were not present and he had stolen away from his room. He walked between the unusually beautiful vermilion flowers. Flowers as unusually beautiful as the creatures that cause them to be here. He floated on their scent, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground.
He was wrong, he did not belong here, and not that he belonged anywhere. Too austere, too severe, just wrong. He possessed the face of a beautiful child behind which something hid--darkness, cruelty, wickedness, evil? The flowers blew and twisted as if disturbed by his presence. The critters of the night sang but then fell silent with his approach as they usually do.
Why did everything seem to fear him? He often wondered. He would not harm a fly, at least not now, not when he had full control. At this moment he was like the flames in the fireplace, warmth was his only purpose.
Fire was a good servant but a bad master, he could be wild and destructive, but not now. Now on this dark cold night they should gather around him, for warmth was his only purpose.
He halted in front of a... Flower? It was still a flower, but made larger and different somehow by the ability of the Nymphs. It was white, almost resembling a rose in structure and in scent. Asleep in the centre was a child, a Nymph dressed in green. Tonight he was late, slumber had taken her to where he could not follow.
His eyes roved over her, absorbing every detail. She was beautiful, yes... but what was she to him? Was she his friend or was she just another thing to be consumed? He was not allowed to have friends, there were the Sfins, his guards and the monks, no friends.
He was drawn to her scent, he did not know why. Did it matter why? She was jovial, kind and not afraid of looking silly. She had gotten close to him, closer than anyone else had. He was quiet and she was always talking, their relationship was the closest he had come to friendship. However, she was not the Sfin, Rhea, no matter how he wished she was.
He stretched his hands out towards her.
Once more, I would like to touch you, just once more before the monks wake, before my guards again become a barrier between you and I.
"You know you should not."
He pulled his hands back, more sorrow than guilt adorning his features. "I know. I am sorry, I was on my way to you when I... May I... Am I still invited?"
Rhona picked him up, this was unfamiliar territory, and it was clear from his posture.
"You have gotten heavy."
"Eight years..." he replied. He fell silent in thought. "I cannot remember you ever holding me."
"I did not expect you to. You were only a newborn back then. I broke the rules and held you at your birth." A faint smile, reminiscing. Her eyes then met his. "Aiyanmar, that was the name I gave to you. The name of a Sfin. I was not allowed to, but I did."
"Aiyanmar, I am Aiyanmar?" A feeling of happiness and something else, something more profound settled over him.
He watched as the Nymph disappeared behind the flowers as Rhona carried him away. For any other reason but for a night with Rhona, he would have been disappointed. He was not allowed to feel like this, happiness for him was forbidden, it was sort of an unwritten rule, now he wondered why she was doing this.
They entered Rhona's living quarters and she returned him to his feet. It was beautiful, unlike his unfurnished, large and empty room. It was divided into three. This room contained a small black table in the centre laid upon a black and gold carpet, all surrounded by white leather and exquisitely carved wood chairs. The other divisions served as her bedroom and bathroom. He looked around, only the fireplace did he have use for, so these items of furniture were void of his room.
He walked to the window and peered through the glass into the dark wet night. Rhona had left him, disappearing into the privacy of the bathroom.
The lights of the temple seemed so faint and far away, Aidos should be there now, what would he do if he knew his sister had the Jewel of the Temple here?
Nights when the rains were absent, and there was nothing keeping him indoors, Aidos would stay with him. Before this night, he was the only adult that had treated Aimar kindly. It was his duty of course to protect Aimar during the nights but he did not have to show kindness, that was his decision entirely. He had seen all forms of the child, yet he still treats him like a person and not a monster.
All forms! He would be changing soon, the darkest hours of the night approach, when he loses control of the legendary flames that engulf his soul. Would his mother understand as Aidos does?
Happiness was forbidden, she would be disgusted, leave while you still have the chance.
"Aimar," Rhona had emerged from the bathroom, she was now dressed in bed clothing--a satiny dress, ending above her kness. Green--matching the colour of her eyes. With her arms out stretched, her smile beckoned to him.
Aimar hesitated, something was wrong. Why was she doing this? Why the sudden change in attitude, what was going on?
"Aimar what is it?" She asked seeing his hesitation.
"I am not always like this," he replied softly, timidly. "I do not always look like this, I do not always act like this, I..."
Rhona was already kneeling before him, gazing into his eyes. No words, just a smile. Aidos was like this--white hair, blue eyes and that smile.
"Unconditional." He watched her eyes. Why did he think something was wrong? She was kept away from him as he was kept away from her. She embraced him, she was soft and warm, but more importantly, she was his mother. "It might not have seemed that way, but my love for you is unconditional."
"Why tonight?" He could not shake the feeling. Why could he not just be happy? He had waited for this for so long but now that it was happening, doubt filled him. He could not just ignore his instincts, they have always been right, more or less and have protected him from danger on more occasions than he could count. "Why have you chosen tonight to share with me your feelings?"
Her eyes fell from his, then again made contact. "No time like the present, right?" A smile, it was a hiding place for her consternations. She stood, turned and walked to her bedroom, leaving him to decide.
He cast his eyes back upon the window, piercing the cold darkness of the night.
Aidos.
The first time he had shown kindness, Aimar had felt this way, as if something was wrong. It has been four years since and yet a reason had not appeared to justify the feeling. Maybe it was just a means of defending himself. After all, he was not accustomed to kindness, so when it was shown it was met with suspicion.
He took a step towards the door, then once more hesitated. The question remained. Why tonight?
Maybe walking through the cold dark rain to the temple to see Aidos would provide an answer. He would know, Aidos always knew. Wise beyond his years Aimar thought him, and nights when alone with the child that everyone else seemed to fear he would impart this knowledge. Telling him why, just why and always why, for that was the question the child chose to ask.
Another step then another, now they came without much thought. He took a deep breath, it was cold as it filled his lungs and he shivered. It was not the cold, the sweat in his palms betrayed his nervousness.
His hand touched the door and it moved on well-oiled hinges. A deafening creak stopped him. His heart pounded, his palm sweated and the cold air caressed his cheeks. He blinked, escaping the spell cast by his mind. The room was quiet and dim. Rhona's silhouette was visible to him, with bed covers up to her armpits she lie watching him in silence.
He stepped forward and the door closed behind him, diminishing the light. The golden glow of his eyes stood out in the darkened room. Strange, unusual, maybe even scary? Would she scream? Did he frighten her?
No, no screams, just an opening of the bed covers, an invitation for him to join her. He forced himself to move, his feet then seemed so heavy. Keep going, he told himself, what to do will become apparent.
He lie facing her with as much distance as was possible on the small bed. He did not trust, that was a problem, he never learned such a lesson. How could he trust what feared him, and everything feared him.
"Come closer and turn around." Her voice was soft and warm, but was still met with hesitation.
Again he forced himself, did anything but loneliness come naturally to him?
With her hand around his waist and his back to her, she pulled him towards her. He complied nervously, then resisted. She moved closer, curled her body around his and hugged him tightly. He realized he was still resisting.
"Relax, just relax. It is difficult for you I know but you are safe with me. You can put your trust in me."
As she spoke, her breath warmed his ear. He surrendered to the melody of her voice, breathing out slowly. He left himself vulnerable to her against his better judgement.
Now it came. A halt to all his resistance. There was warmth of his mother's body against his back and the beat of her heart, no both their hearts, beating almost as one. Also the now soothing sound of the rain on the roof. He curled into the foetal position, unintentionally going back to a time before fear and rejection, the only time during is short miserable life that happiness and comfort did not mean that something maybe or more likely is wrong.
There was silence, except for the rain, the fragrance and softness of the sheets and the front of her thighs against the back of his. There was warmth and an unfamiliar cosiness, resulting in a lull in his usual torrent of thoughts. The great flames receded, releasing the soul of a now blue eyed child. With weighted eyelids, his sapphire eyes slowly closed, he did not fight it, for he did not want to.
Strange lights changed, changed slowly into images. Bright, vivid and wonderful. The sequence of what unfolded was nonsensical, the logic was almost lost. What was this? Why did he not fight it, why did he accept the randomness and illogic of the events cast upon the blackness of his eyelids?
To be free of worry. Why should he care that it makes no sense? Should an eight year old child be void of all naivety? To be free of worry is to be a child. No, to be free of worry is to be a fool.
Darkness fell suddenly, the images faded, the luxury of a dream was something he could ill-afford.
Open your eyes Aimar, do not be a fool, something is wrong, happiness is not for you.
..
Where was he, when was he, how? Confusion, the unusualness of the situation had him dangerously disoriented. Lying on his back gazing up at the ceiling, only one thing was familiar, he was alone. Rhona, where was she?
He sat up, regaining his composure, the great flames flared, again engulfing his soul. He jumped from the bed and pulled the hood of his robe over his head, reflexively concealing the returned golden glow of his eyes.
Danger, he sensed it, the hairs on the back of his neck were on ends, shivers ran along his body, his stomach was in knots.
What was this? What could pose such danger to warrant this feeling? With his hand on the doorknob he stopped. "May the flames of Rai Aiden protect me. May your fury keep me safe Nandura."
He swung the door open as the ground shook, a tremor, the furniture in the room danced along the floor.
"Aimar," His hands were already in Rhona's. "Come with me, now!"
No explanation for there was no time, just a mad dash from the room. Another tremor, he looked back over his shoulder as fire; bright, gold and fierce, invaded the room. The room in that instance was gone, what was left was heat and the insatiable roar of an inferno.
As if it was a predator chasing its prey, fire dogged their steps. The hallways, the massive arches, the flowers and the massive arch windows vanished in its wake. The ground shook, the floors cracked and Rhona running in front of him was out of breath. Her red hair stuck to her face, for she was not like him. She could not withstand the heat, so why did she come back for him? Fire did not pose a threat to him, not by itself. So why?
He was just as fast, more agile, stronger and an unwilling expert of survival, the chances of him dying were a million to one. Yet she was here, running at an all out sprint, her grip on his hand like a vice. Was this love, the willingness to sacrifice one's life for another's or was she just foolish?
Nandura would protect him, not her, she should have just left him, that would have been the wisest decision. He had heard that love was blind, sometimes deaf but was it foolish? Maybe it was.
He could release her hand and be far away and safe in seconds, but that could mean her... Unthinkable. Behind him as if in respect to the flames of Rai Aiden--the dreaded flames that almost ended the world which the ancients had called Nandura--the inferno, despite its superior speed kept a peculiar distance.
"Protect me Nandura." He gazed up at Rhona. "As I protect her."
A severe tremor halted their progress, before them the supporting pillars and floor vanished. From below fire flared, a terrifying screech and a roar came, behind and in front the inferno read of their impending doom.
Our deaths, the thought crossed Aimar's mind. Why? Fire could not kill him, for he was fire. However, he looked down at Rhona cowering from the intense heat, if she died he would stop living, it was that simple. His body would go on but as an empty emotionless shell. The child Aimar, no Aiyanmar, would cease to exist, what would be left was... "the end"
He gazed up in horror at the crumbling roof.
"The end," The voice of the strange monk echoed repeatedly in his head.
"He is not just a child, he is as his father was before him, the end."
Aimar recalled, he had asked the monk later down by the stables as the holy man prepared to leave the temple grounds, "the end of what?"
The fear and disgust the monk felt for the creature standing before him was clear as he answered, "Of all things."
The inferno roared, getting closer. Had Nandura felt his doubt, was she disappointed in his lack of faith?
His eyes met Rhona's. No matter what, I will never leave you. Did her eyes really say it or was it only in his head?
As if answering, she pulled him to her, using her body to shield him from the heat.
Mother, did she know that there was no need for her sacrifice? Did she see him as he really was, or did she see only her child that she needed to protect?
She was kept away from him. Rules are rules she had said, but why make such a rule? Did her maternal instinct blind her to what he really was?
The inferno was golden, brilliant and fierce, its only purpose was to devour all in its path. He was no different. That was his destiny, to destroy Aeonra, the strange monk had said it. Aidos and the others had become enraged with the utterance of those words, but he had only voiced what they were all thinking.
Nandura, he found himself praying. Please do not let her be taken from me.
A great blinding flash.
Intense heat was replaced by bitter cold as the rain soaked him to the bone in an instant in its heaviness. He opened his eyes, the fire engulfed building he had been in only a second ago was now almost five hundred metres away. Nandura; the flames of Rai Aiden, had protected him once more. She was his true mother he was told, not the lesser Sfin standing beside him looking around in awe, not this woman that he loved so much that could not have protected him. Yet above all he sought her love.
Why? Looking up at her, the downpour causing him to squint, he wondered. Nandura, the fire from which he was born, the fire that engulf his soul, and is the ever present golden glow of his eyes, could not whisper words of love and could not truly embrace him, but since his birth she has protected him the only way she could. She? Did Nandura possess a gender?
He prayed to her as the monks prayed to Rai Uz, he had never felt the presence of the Rai of light but Nandura's protection was ever present. It was strong and reassuring, truly maternal.
He turned his attention back towards the inferno that had claimed his home. Did anyone else make it out alive? Was Rhea still alive? Was the Nymph?
No! He looked around, was this what Rhona had seen? The temple, the gardens, all the surrounding buildings, in fact the entire mountainside was ablaze. What could have...?
His question was answered before he could have asked it. With wings, massive and spread wide caught in the glow of the fire, it glided by. Screeches, there was not one, not two but dozens. A spray of fire erupted from massive jaws shaking the earth, even from this far away, he felt the heat. Dragons!
Rain soaked, dressed in black with all but the golden glow of his eyes hidden, he watched helplessly the very element that he was as these great serpents wielded it mercilessly. He found it strangely awe inspiring... Beautiful. Everyone he knew might have been burnt to a crisp yet he found himself thinking... Beautiful.
He pulled his gaze away. Aidos, Rhea, Orthos, Kai, they might all be... He closed his eyes with this thought. Why are they doing this?
Eyes again open, he stepped forward. Rhona grabbed his shoulder.
"No Aimar, there is nothing you can do now, come."
He hesitated then pulled free of her grip. Aidos, Rhea... How could she ask him to let them go? How could she ask him to accept their deaths?
"Aimar, there is no need for you to put yourself in danger, we are right here."
He halted--that voice, it was? Aidos!
Standing behind Aimar, watching the destruction of their homes in resigned silence was a group of monks, thirty or maybe forty. They were all covered in black cloaks, hoods down, leaving their bald, tattooed heads free to be battered by the downpour. They were all human except for the lesser sfin Aidos. Also among them were two children; the Sfin Rhea, flanked by her two Daidran bodyguards and a green eyed child. The dryad.
"Aidos, why?" There was no answer. "Why, are they doing this?"
Silence--only the gaze of the survivors. Steady and accusing, again isolating him.
In case you had forgotten, you are alone and you will always be alone.
Aidos looked away. "We need to get you out of here."
"And the rest of you," Aimar asked confused. Why did they not fight to protect their homes? Why did they seek only his safety?
His eyes met Rhea's. Blue, a reflection of the midday sky. Dressed in white with her wings above her head protecting her from the rain, she--a true sfin--was beauty perfected. Tomorrow, he thought, if all was normal.
They were forced together once every week. Inside the same room they stood to the walls on the opposite side. They never spoke but never took their eyes off each other. Distrust on her part he was sure of it. On his part, fascination, maybe, or the need to feed more likely. Strangely he looked forward to it. She was his absolute opposite, his better half. Why did they not seek her protection? His betrothed, or at least so he was told. He was not sure what that meant.
However to the child of Nandura it seemed the efforts of the monks would be better suited to protect absolute beauty.
Strange was his and the monks' relationship, they feared and resented his presence but were duty bound to protect him. The jewel of the Temple--so he was called by those who had created him--what a title, no wonder he was treated like an object, not a child.
"Let us get going, Aimar, now." He squinted up at Aidos, now seated atop a black horse, dressed in his black cloak. His white hair, drenched and clinging to him, was uncharacteristically pitiful.
Aimar looked away, his eyes moving in turn from Rhona, to the Sfin promised to him, Rhea, and finally to the green-eyed child--the Nymph. He knew what fear looked like, he had seen it all too many times not to know, but strange it was tonight was the first he saw it in her green eyes.
"Aimar," Aidos's voice was harsh, causing the child to cringe. Still he did not move, how could he leave her the first time she really needed him?
"Aimar," He closed his eyes as Orthos picked him up.
He had been told by Aidos that he possesses a great amount of power, he had had flashes of the horrors he had unleashed when he had lost control, but now as he was being placed in the saddle in front of Aidos he realized that he was just a child, a lowly helpless child.
No.
He was many things, helpless was not one, would never be one of those things.
Wise and all-powerful Zohar, grant me the power to protect what must be protected.
There was a sudden brittleness to the air and a rise in the temperature. The eyes of the child glowed brighter yet darkened. This was wrong, he was wrong. This was not magic, not dark magic and not magic of light, it was...Wrong.
Evil, no, not evil, evil had its place, not this and not him.
The horse he sat upon sensed this and tossed him from its back, he and Aidos. He rose and was met by fear. It was strong and so visceral that it fell upon his shoulders and anchored him. The survivors pulled away from him.
His gaze was held fast by the green-eyed child, she alone had not retreated.
For you I bare my soul, for you my family I bare my soul.
It was ugly, something that should not exist, a mistake. Did the Rais make mistakes? No, but the mages did. The rain fell like embers, bounced and shattered, bursting into flames: Flames of gold and shadow.
"Leah, no." The child had started towards him, not seeing the danger. Not seeing the real him. Or did she? Was it her alone that saw his real beauty?
He was quiet and still, with tattooed forehead, two earrings in each ear, golden feathers on his forearms and a face so beautiful it was hard to look away from.
However, there was something behind this beauty, something indescribable, and something one did not wish to describe. It only added to his beauty, where others found this dangerous, she found it irresistible.
The flames engulfed her but did not consume, did not wish to consume her, did not wish to endanger her, but she was in danger. Look away or you will lose yourself.
The flames got brighter, hotter. One knew this but did not feel it. Instead the survivors shivered; a feeling of drudging through snow. This was wrong, uncontrollable and wrong.
"Aimar, stop this."
The flames spread out, consuming and replacing those of gold and scarlet, replaced heat with coldness, with bitter coldness. Coldness that froze bones.
"Aimar!"
Chanting came now, the last resort, a spell. He turned to see one of the monks, its caster, his face strained in concentration, trying to control the uncontrollable. The child's vision blurred, his strength waned.
"Why, I seek only your..." Aimar fell now, silent, not enough strength to stand or to talk.
His head was supported suddenly by Rhona.
He looked up from her lap into her green eyes. This time he found sadness, more welcomed than fear but still resented. He read them and knew what it was they were saying.
Someone so far away held his hand, his eyes shifted to another pair of green eyes. He realized now why he felt what he felt for her. He sank slowly into darkness with their tears like the rain falling upon him.
"Do not tell me goodbye, this is not goodbye." He spoke no words, for he could not and as the darkness took their faces from him, he thought of the child, her eyes so tranquil and green. "What do I feel for you?"
....
It hurt, burned, he floated screaming in a sea of fire. Why did she hurt him now, why did she punish him? What had he done to deserve such treatment?
Nandura, Mother, please mother forgive your child.
His pleas fell on deaf ears.
He had been told a long time ago by Aidos that the Daughters of the Omnima; the oceans, were beautiful. Turquoise, turquoise-green with patches of blue, he had never seen them and they were hard to imagine. All he knew was the gold of Nandura. Now in an ocean of gold he floated, his eyes turquoise with streaks, thin fleeting streaks of blue.
He was no longer in sync with her, he was no longer a part of the flames of which he was born and it hurt.
He did not know what to do. She was the one who always reached out to him. Who always, unsuccessfully, tried to comfort him when he was aching? He hated her, he loved her, and she was all he ever had. Her undying love. Now her embrace scorched him. What had changed and why?
Now he was really alone and the pain the loneliness brought was greater than being burnt alive.
Mother, she abandoned him now, her embrace hurt him and she loved him too much to be the cause of his pain. Her absence tortured him but she kept her distance. Void of her he fell into coldness... Cold and wetness:
Water.
He floated for a few seconds gazing up at her, Nandura, far above him. She was of all things... Radiant.
She mourned him. It was a sweet sorrowful sound that reminded him of the song of a bird.
His vision of her in her whole, her brilliance, was obscured as he sank fighting to regain the surface. Useless, the dark depths claimed him, compressing the air in his lungs, forcing it from him. He reached for her as she became naught but a speck. This was goodbye, a stark realization. He gasped for air and felt his lungs fill with cold heavy death.
...
Aimar woke up coughing, choking and spitting up water. It was a dream, only a dream... Only a dream? He had not much experience so he was not sure but something was different.
He looked around as trees, lifeless and grey whizzed by. He sat in the saddle in front of Aidos soaked and trembling. The rain had stopped and the moons; the great triangle of Aeonra's night sky, peeked from behind dark clouds. Lumeira was at her apogee. The chilly wind beat against his cheeks and whipped his oversized black cloak to a frenzy.
Where were they, where were they going and where were the others?
Questions he wanted to but did not ask. He looked up at Aidos, his face a ghostly white in the light of the moons. He was almost identical to Rhona, the only difference was the squareness of his jawline, which made him look more masculine, and of course the red of her hair and green of her eyes. However, at this moment anxiety marred his handsome features, he was afraid. His breathing was shallow and rapid and in the cold air, his sweat mixed with the remaining raindrops.
Aimar looked away, the face of his guardian did not, as it has done in the past, reassure him. Not this time, this time it filled him with fear. He offered a prayer up to the moons; Lumeira, Saphea and Shii, the home of the Rais. As he did, the moonlight reflected from his eyes. Turquoise, turquoise with streaks of blue.
The moons captured his gaze and held it prisoner. There was something about them tonight, something that he could not turn away from. Something that robbed him of the rest of the world and asked of him his soul.
They held him a second, a decade... An eternity?
His trance was broken as a shadow fell across his face. He blinked wondering what had saved him.
He grabbed his stomach as it knotted so sharply it hurt. He shivered; this was not the cold... Danger!
The forest to his right burst into flames. He found himself crying out, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Aidos held him against his chest firmly.
"Do not worry," Aidos whispered fiercely. "I will not let them take you."
It terrified him. He watched it as it devoured the dead forest with a ferocity he could not have imagined, his eyes glued to it but this time not in awe. He was no longer drawn to it, he no longer shared a connection, now it was naught but a creature seeking his death. A monster, his nightmare.
"Mother..." Aimar whispered and did not feel her, did not hear her. Where was she?
Aidos abandoned the narrow winding path through the forest, it was too dangerous. No sooner, it was replaced by heat, gold and death.
"Mother..." Aimar tried again and tears flowed from his eyes. "Mother..."
The leafless branches of the dead forest slapped and scratched at their faces. The child bled but did not feel. Not physical pain, physical pain was nothing.
"Nandura."
Nothing at all. He found himself tightly gripping Aidos, digging his nails into the feathers of the lesser sfin's forearm. Holding on for dear life to the last thing he had.
Rhona, Rhea, Orthos... Leah, they seemed like a dream almost forgotten; faint and fleeting. The more he tried to hold on to them, to remember them, the further away and the fainter they got. All he had now was Aidos.
He was struck suddenly in the chest, the horse moved from beneath him and he crashed into the mud of the forest floor. He rose, holding on to nothing, for he had nothing. Nothing and no one.
Aidos got to his feet quickly, the horse was gone, they had been struck hard by a branch and sent flying.
"Aimar," Aidos looked around, the child was already on his feet. Aimar was standing motionless with his head held down.
"Aimar."
Still no movement, so Aidos rushed over to him. The child seemed unaware of his presence, and totally unaware of his surroundings. He did not react to the heat on the wind, the smell of the sulphur from the dragon's breath or even the inferno bearing down on them.
"Aimar," Aidos touched his shoulder, recognition registered and the child's turquoise eyes gazed up at him, affecting a faint smile from Aimar's pale expressionless face. The child threw his arms around his guardian's neck, embracing him tightly.
Aidos picked him up, for now forcing Aimar's strange behaviour to the back of his mind. He had to get him to safety, he had to get him to the gateway. To Erza. It was a gamble but maybe in the realm beyond, the jewel--he shook his head--his nephew would find security, maybe.
He rushed ahead, barely keeping his footing. He could not and would not fail, the future of the servants of Rai Uz depended on his success and also, even knowing what he was he could not bear to lose him. He could not bear his death. He loved him too much?
The twisted roots of the trees grabbed and kicked at his feet. The child with his arm around him was motionless, he could not even feel him breathing. Aidos squeezed him and squeezed him again even more tightly. The child squeezed back, somehow filling his guardian with hope. It was false hope.
"I no longer hear her..." Aimar's voice was low and barely audible. "I am sorry."
Aidos fell, causing the child to slip from his arms. Aimar rose right away, his guardian did not. Something was wrong.
"Aidos..." the word left Aimar's lips and lingered in the glow of the inferno. He hated this feeling, though he did know what it was. "Aidos."
"Aimar..." Aidos's voice was strained, he coughed, struggling to raise himself. "Aimar," he tried again. "Run..." He pointed ahead, beyond the child. "Do not stop... Leave me."
The words of his guardian floated by him but made no impact. He walked towards him, doing the opposite of what he was told.
"Aimar," the strangled word did not hit its mark. "Aimar please..."
The child in his stubbornness chose not to listen. He chose to disobey the only person he had ever truly obeyed. The only person who had ever earned his obedience.
He held on to him and tried in futility to get him to his feet. Their former strengths were gone, Aidos could not stand and Aimar could no longer lift him.
"Aimar," the child ignored the tone of his guardian's voice, tried desperately to deny what his nose was telling him. The scent of blood was so strong.
"Aimar, go."
Aidos pushed him now and he fell. The air above and around was hot, the mud was cold. Aimar looked up from it as Aidos slumped over, three arrows stuck out from his back. They went deep, very deep and Aidos no longer moved.
The child stood in silence, scarcely breathing.
This made no sense, how could this have happened? This was illogical, too random, something that he will never accept. So he gave up, he decided that he would go no further, for he wished the end of this nightmare. He wanted to return to where he had Nandura and Aidos by his side and where he could at least see Rhona in the distance from time to time. He wanted to wake up, why had he gone against his instincts and fallen asleep. Now here he was trapped in misery, where the little he did have was gone.
Wake up Aimar, wake up, wake...
He could not, so he cried. Tears welled up, burning his eyes, slid down his jaw heated by the inferno and dripped from his chin. He could not breathe and each gasp he took swelled his chest to the point of bursting. His head was about to explode and he trembled uncontrollably, unable to cry out.
A dragon swooped by, its wings massive, stirring the inferno to wildness.
"Is this the child?"
They stepped from the fire as if it was nothing but the air itself. Aimar did not move, could not move, his body refused to participate further in this nightmare. They were five, dressed as Aidos in long black hooded cloaks, covering armor that shone irridescent green in the light of the inferno. One walked to the body of the lesser sfin, kicked him, checking for life where there was none.
"Is this the child?"
The question was repeated. Another walked to Aimar held on to his chin and roughly raised his head. He gazed down into the trembling turquoise eyes of the child then looked away.
"It is not, we have been tricked," he turned to face the others and shoved the child's face aside. "He is just another decoy."
The others' faces creased in anger. "Damn it. Damn these stupid monks." One roared and started towards the child. "And damn these stupid decoys."
He kicked the child, hard, squarely in the chest. The child hurled backwards for a couple of feet, bounced and crashed in the mud of the forest floor.
"Let us get going, we still have to find him." They turned their backs on the child, all excepting one. "What shall we do with him?"
"He is of no consequence, but to be safe..."
His chest hurt, Aidos was dead, the sword of the stranger sang as it was unsheathed. He rose slowly and painfully.
"Why?" He croaked. He coughed and blood cascade from his lips. "Why are you doing this?"
The stranger raised his sword as he prepared to strike. "You have perverted the will of Rai Uz."
His strike fell precisely and expertly. This made no sense, was it a dream? He hit naught but water, pure seawater.