Wildfire

Even before Eyna burst through the cover of the woods, she felt the wave of heat. It struck as surely as a true blow would, straight across the face. Dimly, Eyna could hear Sthuna calling to her, but she barely registered the words. All she could think of was running, straight towards the blaze.

She broke through the treeline.

Under the moon, ashes fluttered like molten butterflies. They drifted, almost gentle, as the flames spread. Red and white burned brilliantly under the stars, climbing the trees and devouring the clover fields. Flower petals fluttered as the heat consumed them, transforming into cinders in the air.

The world around her was an ocean of molten gold and a horizon of orange smoke. Her dark hair whipped as if caught underwater. Ashes drifted, covering the world. Consuming her home. Eyna could barely see the Heartsprings anymore. She couldn’t see the sacred springs. It was just endless flames.

But rising above it all, was Mother’s core. She was burning. The great tree lighting up from within by a thousand tongues of fire. Eyna could see the vast shape of that formidable trunk , rising above the inferno, charred and black.

Stumbling like her body was made of lead, Eyna tried to reach out. “We have to… Mother is…”

Sthuna thumped down behind her, wings sweeping over her like a curtain of silver. “We can’t go this way! Where are the exits? How do you leave this place?!”

Eyna’s mind felt like it was stilted, thoughts caught in churning molasses. “I… Leave? We don’t leave, we…” Her eyes kept going back to the flames. No matter how Sthuna tried to shield her, he couldn’t keep out the sounds. The rising tide of anguish pitching above the roar of the flames.

The Heartsprings was crying out.

Tiny voices and large ones, a chorus of pain and fear and the unknown. It was a horrible chorus that resonated through all living things around them.

Fae creatures fled, panicking and running from the fires that were consuming their home. Like animals caught in the path of the wildfire.

The drumbeat of hooves thudded by them as a centaur burst from the foliage, his flank gleaming with sweat. Tiny winged fae flitted frantically on glass-like wings, some so light and delicate that the heat sent them tumbling. Naiads surged from the rivers and streams that flowed out of the sacred springs, grabbing anyone they could in hopes of sheltering them from the flames. They ushered them into the safety of the cooler waters, under the mantle of their protection.

A towering creature resembling a shifting, trembling figure crafted of vines and branches shuddered by them. It could not move swiftly, each step an agonized drag of roots from the earth. But it did the best it could.

Deer kicked out, birds abandoned their nests, creatures of every imaginable shape and size fleeing.

The day fae struggled the most. Now was not their time to rise, and they were weak while the moons still held sway over the sky. Hooves and claws and wings, all desperately trying to live to survive, to escape.

But there was nowhere to go. Only into the woods. But the woods had an end that would prevent them from going any further. The Heartsprings was a dead-end. A tiny pocket, a self contained system. The only way in or out-

“... was the springs.”

Eyna felt numb. It was a nightmare. A thing too horrible to be real.

Sthuna sensed her shock. With a frustrated growl he grabbed her, teeth digging into her shoulder. He pulled her like a lion dragging a reckless cub, tail whipping out reflexively in agitation.

“There’s no time-” Sthuna’s words were muffled by his hold on her. His claws scrambled against the earth below them, churning up soil and moss. Eyna didn’t even feel the pain of his teeth digging into her as he pulled them backwards. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the devastation in front of her.

A great cacophony broke through the barrage of the flames, the screams, even the numbness that threatened to drown her. It was a wild and untamed noise, thundering back against the overwhelming destruction of it all.

Eyna lifted her face.

Sthuna snarled.

And there, before them, was Father. He burst forward through the inferno, singed from the flames.

Father was a being transformed, shaped in ways far fiercer than Eyna had ever seen him. Muscles pulsing and expanding, bones were drawn from his body in strange angles. His antlers gleamed, stained with something dark and dripping. His handsome face was twisted in a dark snarl, vicious saber like fangs erupting from his mouth.

And Eyna’s heart soared at the sight of him. It broke her from the heavy weight of dread, the nightmare that had cloaked her body and mind.

Father locked eyes with her. Then to Sthuna, freed when he ought not be. Father’s gaze was intense. “Eyna! Thank the divines. But how-”

Eyna rushed at him.

Sthuna’s teeth snagged against her shoulder for a moment before he released her. She threw her arms around Father’s neck, uncaring that his shape was twisted and changed.

Father caught her awkwardly, hands turned outwards to avoid hurting her with his elongated claws. “Careful! God’s fire, child, you’re always so…” He muttered something not meant for her ears. “You are uninjured? Are you alright?”

Eyna buried her face in the mane that now bloomed around his neck. “Mhm. We’re fine. But Father, the flames, everything’s…”

“I know.” He gently pried her away from his neck. He placed her to the side. But there was nothing gentle about his expression when he turned it on Sthuna. “We will speak of you later. For now I must prevent the flames from spreading.”

Father raised his arms, claws curling. His muscles strained as if contending with an unseen enemy. But the world around him responded. The trees began to move, mirroring his movements. He lifted them, and the roots of great trees rose from the earth. He slammed his hands down, and the trees began to move. As if walking, they slithered and shifted away from the sacred springs, where the fires were fiercest.

Father’s arms trembled. But he persisted. The trees that had already caught fire shivered and shed their burning limbs as they migrated. In a matter of moments, he had cleared a circle, moving the trees from the blaze.

Sthuna hissed, bristling like a stressed cat.

Father grimaced. He seemed drained from the effort of moving the trees. But his shoulders were set proudly as he turned to them. “These are unnatural flames. The air is thick with mana. But this will hold for now. Go to the lake. Both of you. The naiads will take you under. You are not to leave under any circumstances until I come to get you.”

Eyna protested. “But-”

“-Eyna.” Father’s voice was strained and commanding. “I will bind you if I must. You will go to the lake. Now. No playing hero, no detours. Go.”

Eyna’s expression was pained. There truly wasn’t any time to spare. Even after moving the forest, the flames still raged around the sacred springs. But she refused to be helpless. “... It’s… This is from an imperial unit of…” Eyna paused, recalling what Sthuna had said to her. “Arratore.”

She didn’t know if she had pronounced it right. But Father seemed to know exactly what she meant, regardless.

“Humans,” Father spat, “They think to pollute the entire world with their bloodsports.”

Sthuna curled his lip. “Bloodsport? That’s what you think this is? It’s a war for survival!”

Father’s eyes flashed, training a barely contained rage on Sthuna. The dragon had otherwise been half forgotten in the chaos. He’d drawn attention to himself again. “And I suppose you have nothing to do with this, child of fire.”

Sthuna bared his teeth, ready to retort. But Father gave a harsh jerk of his head. Thick branches coiled like whips, wrapping up Eyna in one coil, Sthuna in the other. He would not waste any more time bickering with them.

“We will not abandon the Heartsprings. I will protect you. All of you.”

Father faced the fire. 

But as he did, the flames parted, as if burning curtains ushering in the arrival of what followed. And that which emerged between those unnatural pillars was a wicked and towering thing.

A knight. 

It appeared like a being of living armor, obsidian plates gleaming against the heat. Each step was heavy and calculated, metal shivering. No face could be discerned, merely a cold helm of fae-killing iron.

The last thing Eyna saw before the coil of branches carried her deep into the woods, was Father’s figure. He stood tall before the knight as it advanced. There was a gleam like steel - the flash of a weapon arcing through the air.

Then the canopy hid all from view but the glow of the flames.