A Fireside Confession

Ol-Lozen stared blankly into the heart of the flame, as though an answer to his tumult would reveal itself in the flickering heat. Fire tempted him with assurance of freedom from the bleeding wounds he endured by Az-Uharpak’s tongue lashing, so long as he gave up his flesh and endured several agonizing minutes as skin sloughed off, split, and exposed his fat to the flames. His brain would take several minutes to boil. He would also wake up Mouse sleeping in the wagon.

Joshua hadn’t yet returned from the camp of Edrikt and Charan yet. It was for the best. He’d ignored the boy running into the pavilion and he’d ignored the boy again sprinting out. He hadn’t a clue where to start explaining the suddenly erratic behavior. Reaching down, he grabbed thick fronds of vine and split them from their families easily as blades of grass, tossing them into the flames. Veins of yellow flickered in the orange. He threw another handful on before the smell of burning salt stung his eyes.

When he’d finished wiping Daigay stood beyond the flame, back from her time at the barrier and looking none the worse for wear. In one hand was a succulent looking chicken leg, crusted and smelling of butter and garlic. She ripped a chunk off with her teeth, fragrant juices running down her chin.

Gods that woman is quiet when she wants to be.

Seeing him eye the meat, she waggled it like a wand. “One of the lords was appreciative of my efforts. I’d given his personal magus a night to relax and joy what could soon be our last days of the Age of Incursion.” When Ol-Lozen only dumbly blinked, she continued, “We either win, or we die in pursuit of our goals. The age ends regardless.” She took another bite, chewing slowly to savor the taste.

“Good,” the Orkan muttered. “Another week cooped up in this godsdamned bubble and I think I’ll go mad.”

“Let’s leave then,” she mumbled around a cheek full of chicken.

The brazen statement caught him flat footed. “Can… can we do that?”

“You have a magus capable of bending light by your side, and the army’s march is hours away. So long as you return before then, I see no reason why not.”

“But Mouse –”

“Sleeps peacefully, and her eyes will stay closed and her will subdued. She’s not like to command you from her dreams.”

He rose quietly, satisfied with her answer.

---

They walked beyond the barrier, Daigay leading the way through the windy plains matted with vines, same as the last. The stars were out, but the travelers spared no eyes to the heavens on this night. Their clothes flared at the wind’s touch, and the alien ground smushed underfoot. A spire rose crooked in the distance, like the broken white horn of a deer.

A few minutes of walking from the forest edge became the site of their new camp. With a quick flit of magic Daigay flayed a patch of vines from the earth’s skin, exposing damp, crumbling soil to the air. Another flick and stony benches rose and a pit sunk. Ol-Lozen filled the pit from his bag of kindling, flames bursting to life at the snap of her fingers, and they were warm again in shimmering isolation.

Daigay leaned forward in her seat, chin atop the knuckles of her folded hands, elbows on her knees, staring at Ol-Lozen whose unblinking gaze had slipped into the fire again.

“Such gravity in that stare,” she teased. “Has some ill news befallen you in my absence?

“I spoke with Az-Uharpak before you’d returned.”

“The scientist!” She stamped her feet in excitement. “Have you learned anything new? Please, do share!”

“His summoner had managed to break the spell, removing what he called the ‘forced obedience’ in the runes around Az-Uharpak’s throat.”

“The runes were less visible, I’d noticed. Faded into his skin. Of course,” she added, “severing the collar also removes the bond between them and the latent power accompanying it. Were thoughts of freedom nagging at you after seeing another?”

“A moment maybe. No more.” The fire crackled hot between them, and he tossed another stick from the sack into the flame. “Truth be told, I’ve found myself enjoying servitude. In exchange for chores, I get to spend my day swinging a sword around, seeing a world I’d thought existed only in pictures and artwork older than my parents. If this is to be the rest of my life, I’m certainly content with it. Far as Endless Dreams go, it could be worse. And I always thought that a false promise to give our people a future to look forward to beyond death.” He brushed away a strand of black hair that had fallen into view. “Az-Uharpak, he…”

Daigay watched him with a soft smile, her eyes glinting in the light of the fire.

“I never told you why I left,” he said. “I chose to come here. I wasn’t… I didn’t…” He swallowed hard, his eyes breaking from Daigay’s. “If I’m not serving someone here, then I’ll start thinking about all the people I didn’t serve back home. The people I didn’t help. I’ll dwell on the aimless life I wasted. Az-Uharpak reminded me of that, how I offered my life over to the unknown, rather than face the pain of inaction.” He fidgeted in his seat, unable to sit still. The weight of his sword felt as if it were doubling every second.

The moment hung in the cold air, stretching out with every heartbeat. Ol-Lozen suddenly felt very small, repeating the rambled, half-formed thoughts in his mind. Daigay scratched her stomach over her traveling cloak. She stretched her back, the sounds of popping amplified by the bubble encasing the two of them.

“In other words, you were ineffectual.”

Ol-Lozen’s head snapped up. The words slapped him like an angry mother.

“You thought making a difference possible here, without changing your attitude towards the life you had,” she continued, “well, good on you for lending us your strength! Easier ways out of your melancholy tempted you, I’m sure, as they’d successfully tempted and later persuaded other Orkan.”

She rose with a chuckle, crossed around the fire to Ol-Lozen’s shaking side, and rose a new seat beside him. A wry grin stretched the width of her face, contrasting Ol-Lozen’s sea of emotions: anger, incredulity, apprehension. His expression was the kind a mother would chastise him over, saying it would irreversibly stick that way should it remain.

“Mouse may possess the bond steeped in magic, but I have a felt one with you since the night you arrived. It was just like this, in our little home. I was sleeping, Mouse was scheming away in search of help for her old Grandmama.” She let slip a wistful sigh. “She’s taken umbrage with both our presences now, I’m sure you’ve noticed.

“I… have noticed. She isn’t subtle with her feelings.”

“And never was. The Riversworn cast a beautiful stone directly into our lives and she wants nothing to do with you.” Daigay flicked her gaze up at him. “The deities up there playing by the river of our lives fling events into its waters every day. Blessings, catastrophes, crises – Orkans – and their shockwaves ripple out turning the fish and muck. And on that night they tossed us the blessing of blessings; a wonderous stone capable of effecting great change in the world.”

Daigay slid her hand over Ol-Lozen’s, clenching it tight, the uncomfortable heat of her skin radiating into his own.

“Would you like to see my stone, Ol-Lozen?”

Without waiting for answer she rose from her seat, gripped her clothing around the stomach, and began to unlace. A treacherous fascination bloomed in the Orkan as the layers of clothing rose or lowered, one after the other, the heat wafting from her body swelling stronger with each piece of cloth shimmied away, a spherical structure taking shape where the lower abdomen ran perpendicular to her hip bones. As the last one was removed, Ol-Lozen bit down a sudden, ludicrous thought.

What lay within the glass sphere, size of her fist, embedded halfway in the skin, was not possibly what it appeared to be. It would kill a person slowly, painfully, unwinding their DNA. She would have fallen ill. Mouse would have fallen ill. Ol-Lozen himself would have noticed his health deteriorating day after day in her actively decaying presence.

But Daigay was a magus, and he’d witnessed magic firsthand, and knew in his heart it had no limits.

“The stone fell from the sky for me, and I knew at once I must possess it.” She caressed the globe of rugged stone glowing orange in her pelvis, like a miniature flame. “And from its casting into our lives from the void of the unknown, I conceived of the first summoning.”