As they walked back to the camp, Relmus drifted in his mind, between the words from Kaya and his own recent power.
"I'm not sure why Ogun spares his wrath from you."
"Fire healing."
"Blue resembles Ogun's original flame."
The healing fire. Original blue flame. Not the cursed white blaze that devoured warriors from within, not the red-orange fire of the forges. Something older. Purer.
"You are quiet now," Kaya said, walking beside him. "Bobon is still resting in the healer tents. He hasn't awoken."
Relmus' throat hurt, "Every time I think of Bobon. Why would the Zuli attack children? I have so many questions," he said. His gaze drifted toward the edge of the camp ahead, then to a distant rise where blackened branches curled upward like fingers frozen mid-prayer. He mentally could not handle the thoughts of Bobon. He feared he would invoke the Warming Death again, but this time it would kill him. Relmus decided to pull the discussion off his friend.
"Have you ever been to the Damascus Altar?" Relmus' attention did not break from the direction of the altar as he motioned with his head.
"Not since I was young. My grandmother used to stop by there, but the Zuli attacked it a few years ago, causing the entrance to collapse," Kaya sighed. "You want to go?"
"You do not have to come with me. Besides, it is likely there is nothing there."
Relmus looked back, and Kaya was smiling faintly.
"I will follow you. I already told you this," Kaya said with a small laugh.
Somewhere beyond that ridge sat the Damascus Altar, a half-forgotten structure of stone, old Damascus steel. The first steel the Baros used to build weapons, then later finding that combining the steel and obsidian bones of the Infernals made stronger and sharper weapons. It was built before even Dargos' time as leader. A relic with no place in the new world. But Relmus remembered its doors, old glyphs carved in a language no one living could read. He remembered visiting it often with his grandfather, who would go for the quiet and pray to Ogun for strength, years before the Zuli attack. Relmus had stopped going, even though something inside kept telling him to come back. Even as a child, he had felt a strange pull there. A quiet hum in the back of his teeth, as though something inside was calling.
"Then let's go have a look," he said to her, changing his direction toward the altar instead of the camp.
Relmus walked along the overgrown trail that led toward the old altar. The air felt cleaner out here, the smoke and ash left behind with each step. Birds sang in the trees, their songs bright and indifferent, like there hadn't been blood spilled only days earlier. He let the sound wash over him. It was almost jarring, how normal the world looked. The green of the trees, the whisper of wind through grass—none of it matched what lived behind his eyes. Kaya read his mind.
"It is so beautiful here. Untouched by those wretched Zuli," Kaya said, keeping in stride with him.
He didn't answer, and maybe that's why he kept walking. The forest didn't remind him of the pyres. Or the blue fire. Or the silence after screams.
They continued to walk in silence until the broken and half-destroyed entrance into the altar came into sight. The structure had been carved into the face of a craggy hill, more cavern than temple, half-swallowed by creeping moss and time.
"Help me move some of the debris blocking the entrance. We only need to be able to squeeze through," Relmus said, looking over to her.
Kaya nodded, and Relmus could see the look of fear appearing in her eyes. It had gotten late. The sun was cresting the hills, maybe an hour until sunset.
Relmus exhaled slowly. "Stay here. I will only be here for a minute. I just want to see what is inside."
They managed to move the vines and fallen debris, which allowed Relmus to climb up toward the top of the doorway. He made his way to the top and looked through the dark entrance. In the distance of the altar he could see glimpses of the old glyphs that lined the cave. The sunlight only revealed a few feet into the altar. The gap was too small for him, so he continued to pry away stones. He looked back to ensure Kaya was clear of the falling debris. To his own surprise she was beside him on top of the debris.
"I will remain here. It does not seem the altar is in great shape, and if something happens, I can get help by being out here," Kaya said, looking embarrassed as if she was getting out of going inside.
"That will be fine. You definitely are the wiser of us both," Relmus said with a small laugh.
After a few minutes of prying and forcing his weight through the narrow gap, he managed to slip inside. The cold met him like a hand to the face. Musty, damp air flooded his senses—stone, earth, and something older beneath it all.
He wrinkled his nose. "At least it smells better than the old elder tent," he muttered, his voice small in the silence, as if Kaya might have heard him outside. Nothing returned his words.
He took two steps into the Damascus Altar, and the floor sank beneath his feet. He fell only a few feet and had to dodge the remaining falling stones.
"Relmus!" Kaya shouted.
"I am okay. It seems like the floor has been ready to fall for years," he shouted back. "I am going to keep going!"
A small pain from his arm. He rubbed his hand along it; a cut was bleeding. He took a small piece of his tunic and wrapped his arm in it.
He had fallen into what seemed to be a crypt under the altar. He was not sure who or what was buried here, but he did not want to disturb it. The deeper Relmus moved into the crypt, the more the outside world faded. No birdsong. No breeze. Just the slow drip of water echoing off damp walls and the faint scent of burnt resin. He had to feel his way along the crypt walls, holding his breath with each step. He walked for what seemed like forever, until his foot hit a step.
"This must be the original entrance to the crypt," Relmus said, continuing to move up the stairs. He still remained close to the wall—surely wherever it took him would eventually end up back at the entrance. The walls seemed endless; he would find new doorways and continue through them. Eventually he started to see a faint blue light that would flicker like a flame. Chills ran down his spine. Was it Ogun himself? He finally walked toward the light instead of using the walls. The closer he got, the more the light seemed to shine.
Finally, at the center of the chamber, carved directly into the stone floor, stood the Damascus Altar. It was low and wide, its surface resembled Damascus scale-like grooves. Untouched by time. Strange obsidian-like glyphs curled across its top in looping lines. He had never seen anything like them; they appeared to have been driven into the Damascus Altar—no steelwork he had ever seen before.
But what caught Relmus' eye was the flame he was chasing. A single torch sat in the middle of the altar, nestled in a carved socket. It flickered, impossibly alive. The fire was not orange or red. It glowed a soft, pale blue, like a star at rest. No one had been here in years. And yet, the torch burned. Even more strange, there was no statue of Ogun, or any gods for that matter. Relmus approached slowly, breath shallow, drawn by the impossible fire. He reached out, hesitant fingers moving toward the flame. He didn't feel heat from it. If anything, the air around it was cooler, like the hush before snowfall.
Just before his hand touched the torch, his bandaged arm began to bleed through his makeshift wrap, dropping onto the altar. He grabbed his bandage to try and adjust it to stop the bleeding. The drops fell in silence, striking multiple places on the altar. They landed on the glyphs carved into the stone. The effect was immediate. The torch snuffed out and faster than light a deep, sucking gasp, as if the shrine had just inhaled after holding it's breath for so long. Darkness rushed in like a wave. The blue light vanished, leaving only the sound of Relmus' breath and heart thumping, and a slow, low vibration beneath his feet. The glyphs were glowing. Faint at first, then pulsing brighter with each passing second. First blue, red, then white, flickering in rhythm with his heartbeat. Relmus staggered back, clutching his arm, the sting of the cut now secondary to the cold bloom crawling up his spine. He had disturbed something. A small shiver of terror shot up his spine.
The flashing light from the glyphs intensified, sharp, rhythmic bursts like lightning caught in stone. Relmus raised his arm to shield his face. In the chaos of strobing white light, he caught just enough detail to see the truth, the room was empty. Not even a rat or insect was inside the shrine, at least not moving. But the shrine wasn't still. A tremor rumbled beneath his feet, subtle at first, like the pulse of something ancient stirring below. Then the Damascus Altar shuddered. Cracks spider-webbed across its surface, and with a grinding groan, it collapsed downward, vanishing into the floor like a mouth opening to the deep. Relmus flinched, arms up, bracing for the chamber to follow, for the ceiling to collapse or the floor to give way beneath him. But nothing fell.
Instead, his vision vanished. He moved his hands to his eyes, to see if complete darkness had consumed the room, but he couldn't see anything. He checked to see if his eyes were still there, touching one directly and feeling the wetness of his eye, but he was blind. "Great, just what I needed." He mouthed, but nothing came out. He fought hard against the air, but in his throat nothing was coming out. He tried to scream, but no sound came. His lips moved, but the air denied him. This feeling was paralyzing. He thought if he could just remember how he got where he was, that maybe Kaya could hear or see him, that she could help him. He felt so helpless. Is this why the shrine called to me? To kill me?
Then came the voice. Thunderous. Victorious sounding.
"Looks like you wondered into the wrong Altar boy. If you seek to destroy the curse of Ogun. You will find out shortly, you have no power here." The voice continued. "Now, do not try to speak or see. That will do you no good here, son," the voice said. "Only those who possess the blood of Ogun, can even activate this altar. I assume you are a Baros. Looking at you though, you look puny. What are you a toddler?". The voice boomed with laughter. "Where is your mother boy?"
Relmus could tell from the voice that it was right in front of him. The vibrations from the words hit him in the chest like a strong wind. He continued to struggle to get a word out, still nothing. Yet the voice could apparently tell he was trying to speak as it responded instantly.
"It is almost useless to speak, only a god may speak here son. Or at least a direct bloodline." The voice still thundering, "Now, leave this place, as you have no business here."
Relmus' pulse quickened. He fought hard against this force preventing him to speak, but he managed to get out the words. "Whooo....arrree...yoooou?"
A low, thundering laugh filled the space, a sound both monstrous and calmed. "Well would you look here," the voice said, amusement coloring the words. "You fight strong against the spell around this place, what is your name boy?"
Relmus' body trembled as the laugh echoed, his limbs stiffening. He tried to remember the day he used the flames to his aid, but it wasn't good enough because the feeling of the intense heat, and cooling was not there. "Reellmmuss", he fought hard against the overwhelming force in the altar.
"Wow, THE Relmus?", an excited and normal voice came across. Relmus' heart raced even faster, someone who knows me?
Before Relmus could speak, an excited chuckle came from the voice. "Sorry, not really sure I know who you are. Who are your parents? What is your Lineage? From the looks of your attire, you are of the chiefs family. You are much to small to be the son of Dargos, that boy, Dhutorn, is or was a giant even among the Baros. Are you the adopted son of Dhutorn and Emaev? Most interesting, you have come here, the fire should not be within you. Tell me boy, is that your parents?"
Relmus found it a bit easier to speak. "Yes." Finally without a hard struggle he got that out. The voice must control the spell around the area that suppresses speech and sight, he thought.
"Okay. This means you have awoken a strange to the Baros blue fire, correct?" The voice boomed instantly, as if already knowing Relmus' answer. "Then, this is even more interesting. You do not bare the Warming Death curse either. As you are not wearing the a piece of the Godfire shard."
Relmus shook his head up and down. Yet he wanted to ask the question as to why the voice said he was adopted. He was different yes, but his mother never spoke of adoption. He started to speak, "Why did you call me ado-", but the voice already knew what he was asking.
"Adopted. It would have been in the best of Emaev and Dhutorn to not tell others where you came from." The voice, now smaller but still felt just as powerful. "You should get to know yourself first. Adopted son of Emaev and Dhutorn. You are even more outlandish than the Baros," the voice said.
"I guess, I already knew this after my grandfather told me, more or less." Relmus said, a small tear forming in his eye. Remembering the pain of watching his grandfather sacrifice himself to buy everyone time. Relmus fought hard against the ache in his throat.
"Ah, Dargos was a very strong Baros leader. You know it was he who used to come here to pray. He prayed for a son who would lead them with the same strength of Ogun. And it was answered, though he is still mortal," the voice echoed through the entire altar. "Son of Ayran and Adhira. You yourself are of very interesting heritage. Ayran, half Pagonian and half Baros. Adhira, purest of the Zuli bloodline. A direct descendent of Zuli herself."
Relmus thought to himself, "This has to be Ogun right? Who else would know all these things?"
"You see, this place is where Ogun sleeps. He used his power to lock this away from the outside world. Only those who carry his blood may enter, or even speak to him, but now he cannot enter this realm. For if he does, the Godfire will be in danger. Along with this world."
Relmus' puzzlement must have been written on his face. The voice chuckled slightly. "I will tell you who I am, but you must promise to keep this place to yourself. There is more danger from a sleeping god's body being uncovered than you would believe. My name is Seru'el." Seru'el said, the heat still coming from his voice throughout the chamber.
"Seru'el?" Relmus said, without a second thought. The name flying from his mouth.
"Yes," Seru'el said, "I may know a lot of things, but my view does not allow me to reach far. I feel the death and birth of life, as I created it. It all started with me, but I promised long ago that I would allow Ogun and the others to protect this realm. You should know something, your name carries weight, at least here in the Veil. Use it wisely." Seru'el said like a warning. "The blue-flame, it was awarded to Ogun many years ago, and it got out of hand. Now Ogun is paying for it by using what power he has to contain another evil that waits to emerge."
"Ogun was mortal?" Relmus asked.
"Yes. He is who I relied on to keep the Godfire shard safe. And his father before him. Yet Ravaleth had other plans. A story for another time," Seru'el continued. "Do you know the true reason for the Baros to leave the lands of Volflary?"
"Infernals?" Relmus answered, remembering his talks with Kaya.
"Halfway true. The Infernals were created by the son of Ogun, who was sharing the powers of the Godfire shard against Ogun's wishes. Whoever was affected by the shard, their lineage will forever hold the power that rivals gods. Ogun used his power to curse those who used the power within those lineages, overpowering their bodies, causing them to melt from the inside out: Warming Death." Seru'el cleared his voice and continued with a chuckle. "Yet only the blue-flame will appear to those who are free of the curse, which are those who are direct kin to Ogun himself. Ogun had twin sons: Azareth and Vishnu. Both were affected by the Godfire shard."
"Which side am I from?" Relmus blurted out.
"I do not know. As I said before, I cannot see everything. I have limited my power here," Seru'el sounded disappointed. "I can only hope your heart is more pure than that of Azareth." His voice faltered. "I am running out of time. This altar is a key to keeping Ogun's strength in this world. See to it that no others enter. Until we speak again, Relmus. Please keep your fire bright, as the darkness that follows you can just as easily consume you."
Relmus' blood froze, the dark shadow that follows me. Is that showing how pure my heart is? Maybe full blue means pure, and the black means corrupted. Before he could even ask. The pressure in the air lifted as suddenly as it had come, leaving an eerie stillness behind. For a moment, everything hung frozen in the dark. Relmus stood alone, the echo of the voice, and questions still resonating in his mind.
Keep your fire bright, as the darkness that follows you can just as easily consume you.
So he had seen the darkness in the shadow. Chills ran down his spine. Is it something that he can even overcome? He barely noticed his vision returning, but was quickly distracted by the torch on the table reigniting, brighter than before, casting a clear light across the room. Now the entire chamber was visible. This was no ordinary room. The walls were covered with ancient images, paintings that told the history of Volflary and the Baros.
One figure, outlined in fire, battled a dark form shrouded in green and black. The fiery warrior was shown being cast into a jagged shard by the dark figure, symbolizing a grave defeat. Then a towering figure bathed in bright light appeared, casting blue flames onto the fallen fighter. Reborn in these flames, the fiery warrior rose again to face the dark foe.
Following along the wall, two more figures emerged, outlined in the same blue flame, joining the fight. Another figure, unmarked by any glow, fought alongside them but seemed gravely wounded. A great light shone down from above, pouring yellow light onto this injured fighter, healing them enough to rise and continue the battle against the green-black shadow. The blazing blue figures must be Ogun and the sons Seru'el had spoken of, those gifted with power to fight this darkness. The unglowing figure, with longer hair, might have been a woman. She delivered a final, decisive strike that felled the dark figure. Yet the foe had inflicted terrible wounds before dying, wounds that Seru'el's power seemed to mend. The remaining paintings, faded with the passage of time, hinted at a long-forgotten legacy carved into the altar's ancient stone.
After looking all around the room, the one thing that haunted him, was the darkness that followed the green figure. Is this soon to be me? Which bloodline did he share, Azareth or Vishnu?
Relmus turned and left the shrine, each step heavy as he descended from the sacred shrine. The stillness of the forest around him seemed to mock his confusion, the world continuing as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Was he now the new darkness that Ogun was protecting the world from? Was he going to end everything?
He knew he couldn't return to the others with this. They already whispered of curses, of things unnatural tied to his flames. To speak of any of this would only feed their fears and their suspicions; their trust would fall. They would never understand, not without more answers, and the answers, it seemed, were as elusive as the flames he wielded. Questions churned in his mind, relentless. Was he truly tied to Ogun? The idea had haunted him ever since that first time Kaya had mentioned it. He had always thought of himself as Baros, fire-bound and connected to the land. But the power inside him… that wasn't Baros, or was it? It felt different and calming all the same. How did he explain the flames and the darkness within them?
Relmus' steps grew slower as the weight of the questions pressed down on him. The forest seemed to close in, the trees whispering secrets that only the wind could hear. He could save everyone and just run into the wilderness. Keep to himself until he died of the wilderness or died of old age. Maybe even to the infernals. That wouldn't solve anything.
With a final glance over his shoulder toward the shrine, Relmus made his decision. He would keep this to himself for now. For his own sanity, and for the sake of the others. But deep down, he knew the truth: the answers would come, good or bad. He needed to know more of his family, adopted and birth. Emaev, the woman, who until recently, was his only mother. Now he must ask her about his past, but he was overwhelmed so heavily.
Relmus needed to find a space to clear his head, the best he could. As he entered back into the camp, the scent of ash still clung to the wind. Relmus moved to stand atop the shallow rise overlooking the heart of the Baros camp, where makeshift pyres smoked in the early dawn. A haze of grief shimmered in the air, mingled with the flickering cinders rising into the pale sky. The sun had yet to show its face, as if it too mourned the cost of survival. Below him, warriors moved slowly, their silhouettes half-lost in smoke. Some stood in silent vigil. Others crouched near the scorched remnants of kin, their heads bowed, hands pressed into soot-stained earth. No one spoke. No one needed to. The silence was louder than any war cry. He watched as they bent their heads, not for him, not for the strange, flame-wrapped moment that had turned the tide, but for the ones who'd died to give them another sunrise, those who had burned themselves into the earth so others might live. He should have felt something like triumph. Gratitude, even. But all he could find was hollow ache, like the wind had carved out space inside his chest and left only echoes. No one had spoken of the blue-black flames since the battle. Not openly. They all saw what he did, but none dared name it. As if naming it would make it real. As if it would crack open something best left buried. Even the boldest warriors, those who'd faced Infernals and worse, avoided his gaze now. Not in contempt. In uncertainty. Most of the elders were gone, and with them most of the fire-guided wisdom that had shaped the Baros for generations. The information from the altar still loomed in Relmus' head.
No elders to talk to. Now everything was ash. What remained was silence, as if they never existed. Who or what am I?
A breeze passed through the camp, lifting smoke and ashes into small spirals. They curled skyward like unspoken prayers. The embers danced like dying stars, each one a soul given back to the fire. Somewhere below, a child wept quietly. The sound was thin and tremulous, yet it pierced deeper than the wails of battle had. That soft grief carried a weight the steel and thunder of war never could. Relmus closed his eyes, letting the wind lash against his face. The fire pits from the tents hit his nose first. The smell instantly reminded him of the first time as a kid sitting next to the fire listening to his father and grandfather share stories of past memories. Relmus favored the old stories of Ogun's time, but believing it was just a story before, to now possibly being turn. The smell of burnt fur broke him out of the memories. He shook it off, that smell reminded him of the day the Zuli attacked. Innocents turned to ash, struck down for no reason. Rage tore through him, he opened his eyes and looked to his hands, the smallest of shimmers of blue flame etched at his finger tips. Then his blood froze, he seen it, just even in that small flame, black shimmers in the flame of the darkness he held inside. As soon as he seen it the rage left him, and water began to hit his hands, extinguishing the flames. He let it fully go out before wiping his face.
"If Ogun is protecting us, why does it feel like we're helpless? Is the Veil, where all these gods go to hide?" He thought.
"Relmus." Kaya's voice was gentle, but her eyes were unflinching. She stood just behind him, arms crossed, her long braid streaked with soot. "The council is gathering. You know they will be discussing what happened, and what happens next. You should be there, with your mother."
"Should I?" he asked, not looking back. "I scared everyone, even myself. They must think I am going to curse them. So maybe they will find this as an excuse to throw me out."
Kaya replied, "Your father would want you to be there. You carried Dargos' axe as if it was your own," she said. "You held the line. Defeated two Infernals. If that's not the attributes of a leader, what is?"
Relmus didn't answer.
Kaya stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was warm, steady. "I won't hide if from you. They're talking about you, Relmus. Some say you're chosen. Others say you're cursed."
He exhaled slowly and descended the slope. The gathering circle was smaller than it once was. Half the seats were empty, scorched or shattered. Charred symbols once carved to honor Ogun now lay in blackened ruin. The remaining warriors sat or stood, tension thick in the smoke-hazed air. His father's chair still remained, some scorch marks, but more like after times when Dhutorn was aggravated and his palms would burn, causing the remnants of leadership. Ogun came back to mind as soon as he looked to the top of his father's chair.
Trying to forget about the shrine for now, he looked around the council circle. Fothon the Ironworker leaned on a half-melted spear, eyes wary beneath a furrowed brow. Varkus, one of the old scouts, scowled beneath a fresh scar on his cheek. Kaya stood off to one side, Relmus admired her, not only for her strength, but her beauty caused a burn inside almost. Kaya met Relmus gaze and he looked around like he was reading the crowd. Many other elders who couldn't stand without help were there; they couldn't help in the Zuli attack, they barely could move. Whether it was old battle wounds or new ones. His mother was not in sight.
"We cannot wait," Varkus barked, slamming a hand on a tree stump, sending flecks of bark flying. "Dhutorn is gone. Likely dead. The Zuli will come again. We need a leader. Someone to lead us through this."
"We have one," came a frail voice from the back. "Relmus is the rightful heir, he fought just as hard as the rest of us."
A chorus of murmurs rose, some agreeing, others scoffing.
"Emaev can only lead for so long, as we know a woman cannot lead the Baros. We must heed the words of Ogun: 'Flame born of grief… beware the cost of power.' He's an untested runt of a boy!" Varkus snapped. "Tradition matters. Without the trial, he cannot lead. No matter if he defended this village."
Relmus stepped forward. He extinguished the fire inside that wanted to take up for his mother, but he knew it would make things worse right now. "Then let me complete it." All the elders turned. "Let me complete the Axe Trail. Face the land as our ancestors did. Alone. If I return, I return a warrior." He looked to Kaya, then swept his gaze across the others. "And if I fall… then at least you'll know I wasn't worthy to lead."
Varkus rose, face stern. "A runt, and too young. Just because you got lucky and killed two Infernals doesn't make you invincible, boy. You think the trial is about killing Infernals? About swinging that axe? It's more than that, boy. The land will break you. You'll walk through wind that peels skin, cold that freezes blood, heat that cooks your insides like stew. Volflary is both extremes."
"Then it will be no skin off your bones then. You will get a better leader if I die." Relmus replied.
Varkus spat on the ground. "You'll die. And we'll be left right here where we are now."
"Then my mother can lead as she should," Relmus snapped. "Give me no special time to complete the trial. Once the time is up. Pick a new leader."
Silence settled like a shroud.
Kaya stood slowly. "Let him go. Let the land decide. As it did for Dhutorn. As it did for Dargos."
Varkus snapped, "Fine, you will have 7 days max, to complete the trial. Our past leaders took the trial and finished in 3 days time. They did not have the Zuli looming in the distance. So to give you time to avoid them, you will be granted 4 additional days. Anyone against?"
The other elders remained quiet, some mutters in the back, but no one opposed. Emaev finally came to the meeting. Relmus could tell she was uneasy, her eyes red from her mourning of Dhutorn and the others.
"Emaev, he has 7 days to complete his trial. You will lead us until then." Varkus said, still keeping his attitude from before.
"Very well." Was the only thing Emaev could get out before tears began to swell in her eyes. Her teary eyes met Relmus' and she nodded and walked away.
Relmus knew he couldn't start asking her questions yet, there was to much weight on her shoulders from all this.
That night, Relmus concentrated on the battles ahead. The women that prepared the Baros boys for the trial brought him potatoes, a deerskin of water, and a wrapped bundle of dried roots said to stave off frostbite. Relmus didn't particularly prefer them, but he also didn't want to freeze either. The oldest woman placed a coal from the sacred hearth in a small clay bowl beside him.
"Carry Ogun's spark with you," one whispered. "But remember, flame does not love the foolish. Do not pray for warmth unless you're ready to be burned."
"First go bathe." One of the women said smelling his hair.
Relmus thought, "I guess it has been a few days since I last was in water, let alone bathing."
"You can use the tent nearby, I will start the fire below the pot, but it will not be very warm still." She said walking out of the tent.
Relmus got up and stretched, looking over his clothing. It had it's signs of dirt and soot from not being changed in the past few days. He barely remembered sleep let alone changing. He walked to the nearby tent where the fire was popping under the pot. Relmus recognized the pot as one of the large ones used to feed everyone during the celebrations. No need for a celebration here. Kaya broke him from his thoughts.
"I needed to see you before you left." She said, giving him a small cloth that was concealing something inside. "Something to give you hope."
Relmus nodded and took the cloth. Inside was a golden talisman, it was marked with Ogun's symbol, only this one was different from the red that usually marked them. The symbol was completely blue. "My grandmother kept it in her tent with a lot of her belongings. I felt it needed to be with you. To show you that the blue flames' are a gift not a curse." she said hiding a small grin.
Relmus instinctually hugged her. Probably the best hug he gave anyone. Tears swelled, but he kept himself contained. No one, besides his mother had ever showed him so much love. Kaya hugged back just has hard. As if she too had been waiting for a moment to hug him. He looked at her and saw the small tears that had began to softly fall down her face. "Come back alive please." she said softly. He wanted to kiss her, that feeling burned more than the fire. He leaned in to see if she too wanted to kiss. She seemed to accept, as she leaned in.
"Excuse me please." the voice broke them a part to pretend like nothing was happening. It was the woman who was preparing the bath. "I need to check the water please."
Relmus and Kaya both looked at each other and chuckled. Relmus replied to Kaya, "I will return to you."
"Oh, you better." She teased, walking out the tent.
"I promise I will return, if not for anyone but you." He thought, he wanted to say it but she had already left.
"Now, Relmus, please use the bath so we can continue the remaining preparations for your trial. Ogun will not bless you with his protection if we deter from our traditions." she said, handing him some bar of soap that smelled like the elders tent.
"Right." he said, nodding to her. He watched her exit it the tent before he got into the bath. "Ogun seems to be too busy to worry about our traditions." He muttered to himself. He relaxed for the first time sense he awoke from the Zuli attack. He hadn't been able to after the altar either. He was too worried he would fall asleep and wake up to him slaughtering everyone. At least that is what he felt could happen with this darkness following him. He stared at the talisman Kaya had given him. "No matter what, I will come back to you. Maybe, then this runt will deserve you." He whispered. He laid back into the bath and took the terribly smelling soap and began to wash himself. This was the first time since the attack he had really even looked himself over. Each place where he knew he was bleeding was gone. Like it never happened. The thought fueled a small bit of anger. The others will forever bare those scars, but I don't even get that honor. He finished soaping himself up then laid back into the tub to enjoy the last bit of the hot water, closing his eyes to rest for just a second.
"Relmus." A small voice said, startling him. He looked around and seen nothing, but before he went to close his eyes, he looked to the opening of the tent. It was nightfall, but standing in the opening of the tent was even darker than the outside world. All that could be seen were two blazing white eyes, that seemed to look into the darkness Relmus had inside him. Relmus' entire body froze. He didn't know what to do. Hide in the tub like a child? Or come out, completely naked to attack the figure? Was Kaya playing a joke? The dark figure reached out a hand towards Relmus. He knew it wasn't a joke now. Smoke moved toward him almost like flames, but it was holding a dark purple color within it. Almost like oil in water, but the oil was purple and the water was black as charcoal. Different to his blue flames, with the black that just etched the edges. It began to say his name again. "Relmus."
Relmus decided the only plan of action was to come out of the tub full force. To hit this thing with everything he had. He sat for just a second to invoke the flames. He closed his eyes for what felt like forever, opened his eyes and sprang out of the tub. He was startled to see the woman who set up the bath for him standing at the opening of the tent, now with her face covered. "Sorry, sir. Did you need help? I did not mean to barge in." She said, muffled with a drying cloth covering her face to avoid seeing him.
"I am completely sorry, I must have been dreaming and jumped." He said, his face more red than coals of the fire below the pot. He was able to grab the cloth from the woman, as he continued to apologize for the "show". She was probably the same age as him. He had seen her around in the other camps before. With the recent deaths, that was probably why she was in his. He covered himself and waited for her instructions.
"Now." she said clearing her voice. Relmus still red with embarrassment. "Lay down, we must mark your body."
He nodded and laid back on a freshly made bed of deer skin. Others came to the tent to help her with the preparations. They began to dawn him with the Axe Trial markings. Across his chest was the symbol of Ogun with the axes that met at the blades. His arms were covered with dark red paste to his wrists. They gave him completely new bearskin pants to wear. This was all to represent what Ogun looked like before he drove the Infernals into hiding. Relmus wondered what, Seru'el from the shrine would say now, seeing him dressed as Ogun.
When they were done they left him in the tent, now he was supposed to leave within the day, before the next nightfall. He inspected Dargos' axe, testing its sharpness, and then rested it on his back with a new strap. Varkus tried to remove the axe from him for the trial, but Emaev dared him to try.
She was somewhat back to her old self. He smiled, thinking back to the exchange.
"You should not be using the axe for your trial," Varkus had said. "You haven't earned one yet, you shouldn't be allowed—"
Emaev interrupted him, "He is doing this alone. Did you do your trial alone?"
"Well, no. My father accompanied me," Varkus said, knowing he had taken the bait.
"He is doing this alone. He will take his grandfather's axe. Or I will gut you," she said, motioning to her waist, that held the sheathes where her hunting knives rested.
Baros women were not a force to be reckoned with. Not only were they fierce, they were extremely fast. Emaev being the wife of Dhutorn made her even more dangerous. Relmus watched his mother cut a bear clean open, neck to groin, its intestines ripped out before it had a chance to attack another woman near the edge of the camps. She was precise and quick. She would have made a great permanent leader if women were allowed to be within the Baros.
He grinned, thinking to himself, "Even though the altar said she isn't my true mother, I know in my soul she was always meant to be mine." Relmus relaxed on the deer skin bed. He could hear feet steps walking up to the tent. His heart raced thinking it could be that black figure again. He angled himself to see the opening or to see if the moon was casting a shadow on the tent. He held his breath as the footsteps come closer and closer. Each step made him want to run.
Emaev broke the tent opening and Relmus gasped for air. "Mother, how are y--", She hugged him.
"You carry our fire now," she whispered. Relmus thought she meant they found his father's body.
"Did they find him?" He said, repeating the whisper. Dreading the news.
"No signs. I only mean, you carry our fire, our fight. Just like your father did. You must finish this trial and come back to us, promise me you will return." She said, wiping tears from her cheeks. "These people need someone good to lead these people. With your father gone, you are our hope, Varkus will try to become the leader, but I will not let him." she said, the words coming out like she was going to slap Varkus across the face now.
"I promise to return, I don't know if I am cut out to lead them." he said, already thinking about how he was cowering thinking the dark figure was coming back. "Mother, I meant to ask you." He thought for a long hard second. "Do you know if Kaya is choosing a husband?" he sat and waited for this answer, it wasn't truly what he wanted to ask, but he couldn't bring up being adopted before he went out into the trial. He needed time to talk and think about it. He blushed slightly asking this question to his mother, but she would know.
"No," she said, grinning slightly. "I figured you would fall for her eventually." she chuckled, and looked away for a moment, and spotted the talisman that Kaya had given him. "What is this? I have never seen one like this. Where did you find it?", she turned it around in her hands feeling the weight as if it meant something.
"Kaya, gave it to me." he said, tracing his mother's face for a reaction.
"Ah, her grandmother's. That is pretty special I will say. Must be laying claim." She chuckled, setting the talisman in Relmus' hand.
"Laying claim?" Relmus laughed. "Please watch yourself while I am gone mother."
She nodded to him, "I will keep the people waiting for your return my boy." she left the tent and Relmus listened to her footsteps disappear into the night.
He knew he needed to talk to Kaya and his mother about the altar. Yet, Relmus still held back his questions. After the trial he thought. Maybe it was a mix up in the birthing tents. Sounds like a likely story. Still none of this was something he wanted to drop on his mother and then leave for the trial. Especially with his father missing. He closed his eyes and sank into the deer skin bed. "I need to check on Bobon in the morning before I leave." He muttered, slowing his breath for sleep.
The next morning, he headed to the edge of the camps, looking for the healer's tent. He paused before entering. "What if he never wakes?" he thought. Relmus struggled with the swelling in his throat, cleared his throat with a grunt and entered the tent. Bobon laid still and pale beneath layers of fur and straw. He looked ready for a burial.
Bobon's mother, Kireth, was nearby. This helped Relmus focus on her and avoid the tears, or rage that was building. Looking over her, did not help much though, as she had barely made it out of the attack as well. He could see from the cloth medicine wraps, she had severe burns to her left arm. He looked down at his own exposed arms, still not a single scratch from that day. She noticed he was looking at her arms. "The bandaging makes them look a lot worse. Relmus, than--", but she stopped holding in tears of her own. She removed the bandages so Relmus could see. The burns resembled lightning strikes, reaching from her wrists to her elbows. Relmus could also see the injuries were preventing Kireth from properly holding things. Her hands didn't full close and she lost grip on the bandage from one hand. "Sorry, I can not hold small things like before. Makes it hard being a ironworker's wife." she said with a small chuckle. Relmus couldn't look away, the wounds themselves felt as if the Zuli were mocking her for not dying.
"Please let me help." Relmus said, grabbing the fallen bandage, and helping her apply the wrappings back onto her wounds.
"Thank you, Relmus, not just for this but for being there and here now for Bobon." Kireth said, finally winning the fight over her emotions.
"Kaya said he still has not woken," Relmus said, his voice tight, tears clawing at his eyes. Relmus knelt beside him, looking over his body, checking to see if he still was breathing.
"She is correct. Bobon is in a very deep sleep. Some of the other healers, they—" her eyes began to swell again "--said that he may never wake up, stay in an eternal sleep forever. That maybe his mind has left, and just his body is a shell." She caught the tears with some of the bandage, but let the rest fall down her cheek.
"Bobon along with Kaya, they both have been my only friends. I will not let the Zuli get away with this." Relmus said, keeping his eyes on Bobon. He could hear Kireth trying to hold back her tears.
Relmus felt completely helpless. Nothing he could say or do would help her find comfort. He moved closer to Bobon, felt his skin, it felt damp, but still warm. "Have they tried the Ninji water?" Relmus said, still keeping his eyes on Bobon.
"The healers said the last went out with Dhutorn's hunting party. Apparently they were planning to bring back more. Since everyone has either died, or kept their shards. There hasn't been any Warming Deaths." Kireth said, "If even a drop exists in this camp, I will find it for him."
Relmus figured it was true, everyone relied on the hunting parties, they didn't just bring food, but medicine, ore for the ironworkers, and anything the hunters could pack up and bring.
"Keep holding on," he whispered to Bobon. "If only you could have seen what is happening." He pressed the boy's hand gently. "I'll come back… so you can show me how good of a hunter you are." Before leaving the tent, Relmus set his mended bow beside Bobon. "You will make us even more proud." He looked to Kireth. "I will do whatever I can. For now, just let him rest and ask for Ogun's guidance."
He left the tent before she could speak. He couldn't do it anymore; he felt helpless, maybe more helpless than he did on the day of the Zuli attack.
The first kiss of sunlight touched the scorched earth. Relmus stood at the camp's edge. Slipping out to avoid attention. Only the camp edge scouts seen Relmus, and told him good luck.
"Flame born of grief… beware the cost of power," Relmus remembered Varkus saying.
Then came the echo of the shrine, Seru'el's last words, quiet and steady in his mind.
"Keep your fire bright, for the darkness that follows you can as easily consume you."