The Plight

The trek took most of the day. First he passed empty farmsteads. Then there were outbuildings where the doors were swung wide and signs of looting. Finally with the smell of smoke heavy on the air he approached the hamlet. He could see several of the buildings had been burnt to husks of their former selves. As he past these husks of familial succour he could hear the troubled mumbles of a despairing crowed. By turning toward the sounds of sobbing and anguish he found a group of people gathered in the central square of the little hamlet.

Upon the platform that circled the meager fountain was an elderly man with tears streaming through his soot covered face. His beard which once shone a pristine white as a badge of wizened honour was now mottled grey and gave him the appearance of an apparition as he cried out to those gathered around him. “Will no one go to save my girl? None of you have the courage to face the Flame Brotherhood?” With his last plea the gathered crowd took a collective breath. Their fear was palpable. This Flame Brotherhood terrified them greatly. The crowd took a step back as if they feared a gout of flame to rise up and consume the old man just by the mention of the name.

The young adventurer stepped through the crowd and reached to steady the old man as he swayed in his grief. “Sir,” he said. “Tell me what has befallen your town. What of your daughter and this Flame Brotherhood that your folk so fear”

“They came in the night with sword and fire. None could stand before them. As you can see they burnt most of the town and pillaged the rest. But my daughter…my precious daughter.” With the last he broke down to uncontrollable sobbing. Looking around for support to comfort the old man the youth drew him down to street level and pulled him close until self-control could be gained once more. But this effort only reawakened the old man’s ire. He lifted his head in wavering pride and shouted to those around, “Who here has the courage to give chase. Who will save my Meira?“

The youthful adventurer stood to his full height and squared his shoulders and spoke with confidence, “I will go save your Meira. All I need to do is resupply. If you have anything to spare I will be on my way. Supplies and a direction is all I need.“

The old man took some measure of comfort from the boys’ confidence but with his anger kindled once more he lifted his voice, “So a stranger has the courage to save my daughter? Where is the courage of this town? Where is the strength of Melkin village? Surely not everyone’s spine have turned to jelly.“

Most of the townsfolk dropped their heads in despair. None seemed to want to step forward. It would seem their fear of the Flame Brotherhood outweighed their communal bonds. After a couple minutes of hushed silence foots steps could be heard approaching. Actually several footsteps from different directions could be heard. A soft tenor voice was heard to say, “The Quints with go with this adventurer if he will lead us. “ Conflicting emotions washed over the old man’s face. The anger at the townsfolks timidity was replaced by joy that someone was coming forward. It was replaced by surprise and then concern. He spoke up asking, “Why do you choose to help now. You were nowhere to be found when the Flame Brotherhood was raining down terror upon this village. You were nowhere to be found when I cried out for someone to save my Meira as she was dragged away by those fiends. Why do you step forward now? What drives your decision?”

“Granpap, we are not fearsome warriors or great adventurers. We are just five villagers willing to follow another’s lead. We are willing to stave of this town’s shame. Let us stand with your new found champion. Let us help as best we can.” As the young man spoke his voice grew louder as if his confidence was increasing with every word. He turned to the crowd, ”Outfit us for the travel. Share what meager supplies you can spare as we prepare to rescue Meira. ”

The Pursuit

After about an hour of hurried scrounging the young adventurer and three of the Quints set out from the town with backpacks and bedrolls readied for travel. As they left the town heading to the north as directed by the old man the young adventurer looked over to his companions and said, “I’m called Sabastian by those who once cared. Why are you called the Quints when I only see three of you“? The one who had done all the talking in the town started to chuckle and his siblings just smiled. “We are called the Quints because our father had a persuasive stamina that our mother could not resist. As it turns out there are five of us. My name is Rashique, the tallest over there is Tyrique and the youngest of us is Henrique. You will only see three of us most times though. One is always out scouting and the other is concealed in shadows to keep watch while the remaining three are left to rest or interact with the community. So that leaves Kalique who is scouting now and Domenique to watch from the shadows.

To hear him describe the families unusual dynamic put Sabastian on edge. There was something that was said that caused the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. It’s just that he couldn’t put his finger on it. With a hesitant laugh Sabastian admitted that it was a unique arrangement.

The brothers travel gear was a departure for Sabastian’s tastes as well. They were dressed in a dark grey cotton leggings and tunic. Over that was hung a travel cloak of dappled grey. At their sides they carried a nasty curved short sword and slung over their shoulders were a curved bow that seemed to be made of black walnut which seemed an unusual wood for the plains.

As they passed through the grasslands day by day Sabastian’s companions would change out. He met Kalique who seemed to be the quietest of the five with Domenique being the darkest. Sabastian was most surprised when Domenique appeared in camp. For some reason he thought the Quints were all boys of varying ages but when Domenique pulled back the concealing grey travel shroud the sight of cascading black hair and deep set eyes took Sabastian’s breath away. A girl, he definitely wasn’t expecting a girl. The way she moved around the camp it was clear she was the one best suited to hiding in the shadows. With barely a sound she would shift from one place to another. That night as she sat across from him at the camp fire and he noticed that she spent most of the time staring into the flames as if mesmerized. When he tried to initiate conversation she drifted off into brooding silence. At times he would catch the reflection of the flames in her eyes and it would appear that the flames danced as if they were internal and not just a reflection. He finally decided it best to turn in for the night and not pursue his troubling thoughts.

The Prize

On the fifth day since leaving Melkin Sabastian notice a smudge upon the horizon. When has asked Rashique about it and was told it was the Worlds Splinter. He described a mountain range that was formed from a vast series of volcanoes. Only the largest was active and it was called Mount Draemor. It would take them two more days of hard travel to reach its base. Then it would be another day of perilous climbing to attain its summit.

“The Flame Brotherhood has taken residence in some abandoned ruins at the top of the peak. It has some significant importance to them. It is believed through the fires of the volcano there is a portal to another world. By dark ritual and sacrifice they believe that they can open a portal to pass through to the realm of their fire lord.” As Rashique spoke his voice gained in fervour. It was almost as if he desired to be present if that should happen.

Their pace quickened and the Quints took on an air of excitement. As they grew closer Sabastian could see that dark roiling clouds had gathered about the summit. As they started the ascent lightning bolts began to strike the mountain. The bottoms of the clouds took on a blood red hue and the lightning turned everything shades of blue.

In the midst of the climb Sabastian noticed that the Quints had split off each heading into his own direction. By the end of the days ascent Sabastian crested the last crags of the mountain alone. He could see there were several ledges around the open flames and lava. On several were forgotten stone structures and a partial bridge leading out over the expanse.

At the base of the bridge he could see figure chained to a huge black anvil. It must be Meira that he had come so far to rescue. Before her was a robed figure standing at the end of the broken stone bridge. In the distance Sabastian could hear the drone of a chant. With each syllable being intoned sent a chill up his spine. This was not good. With each cursed syllable spewing from the figures mouth the air on the other side of the lava chasm began to shiver and warp. Soon there was a seam that folded back that began to reveal a hellish scene. There was another side of the bridge made from ethereal stones that was materializing brick by brick.

Meira spasmed as soon as the tear opened onto the other realm. A scream ripped from her throat. With that scream the lighting that had been racing through the clouds above gathered around her. It was as if a presence that had been hidden was torn from the heavens and settled upon her like a tattered cloak.

The next thing that Sabastian heard was a woman’s voice that came out of Meira’s mouth. But it was not a normal voice. It was as if it was the voice of a goddess. Full of power, full of menace and full of fear. She screamed, “I will not be bound again. Our separation caused the breaking. To be reunited will mean the end of all things“. Sabastian’s attention was ripped from Miera at that moment by the laugh that came from the other side of the rift. Upon the ethereal bridge Sabastian could now make out the form of another being. It was made of light and darkness bound together. It flowed with liquid fires that made the lava below pale in comparison. There was a rumbling sound that shook Sabastian’s bones. It grated upon his nerves. Then he realized that it was laughter coming from this being. At some point Sabastian could make sense of the sounds and he heard these words, “It is time my Twin. It is time to be rejoined. Let us put an end to our separation. Time to remake the cosmos!”

With that declaration the presence that inhabited Miera began to throw azure bolts of lightning in all directions. Boulders were struck with enough force to shatter them into tiny piles of sand. Sabastian knew that if he was going to survive this maelstrom he was going to have to act. From a hidden pouch he pulled a relic that was bound with a leather strap and wrapped it around the pommel of his sword. He hoped it would protect him from the magic that was trying to tear his world apart.

Just as he stood to make a dash for the anvil he could hear movement behind him. As he started to turn a blow to the temple caused him to stumble. He crashed to the ground unable to move. His sight dimmed. As unconsciousness over took him he managed one word, “No”.

From the darkness he could feel himself being manhandled down the side of the rocks. He was being dragged closer to the confrontation of two worlds taking place at the head of the bridge. He could hear Dominique say, “Be careful brother, we need him for the joining to be complete. I didn’t orchestrate this journey just to lose him in the end.” Sabastian started to feel control returning to his limbs. He secretly reached for the dagger that was hidden in his boot sheath. He burst into motion once full consciousness was regained. Reaching up to pull his assailant close he plunged the dagger repeatedly. He could see the light of life fade from Henriques’ eyes. As the limp form fell from Sabastian he slipped off the bow from about his assailants shoulders and grasped an arrow from the fallen quiver. In one fluid motion he stood and drew the bow back in one pull taking aim at the hooded figure at the end of the bridge. A moment later the Flame Brother spun with an arrow through his back. As the hood fell back Sabastian could see it was Tyrique that had been chanting the dark incantation. Slowly he dropped to the edge of the bridge, sliding over to flare upon the lava below.

As Sabastian stood transfixed by the realization he had been traveling with the instigators of the foul abduction and desolation of Melkin an arrow glance from his armour. Due to its resilience Sabastian was spared from any real damage but the shock brought him back to the realization that he was still in danger from the remaining Quints.

Ducking behind a boulder Sabastian was scanning the summit to see where his attacker might be hidden. At that point a blinding bolt of lightning coursed down from the heavens and struck a figure secluded by one of the buildings on a neighbouring precipice. In an instant all was gone except an outline upon the charred stones of the derelict building.

Even though the chanting had ended it was clear the colossal struggle at the bridge had not. The presence in Meira was drawing more power to continue her desperate struggle against the Titan making his way across the bridge as it materializing one brick at a time.

Sabastian heard a scream behind him which caused him to spin. Dropping the bow he had just enough time to grab his sword and manage a parry of the downward attack. Rashique was the one who accosted him now. Enraged beyond comprehension he attacked in a frenzy. It was all that Sabastian could do to turn the avenging blade. Just as Rashique raised his blade to strike once more a flash of lighting blinded both combatants. Sabastian felt his blade strike true even though he was temporarily blinded. A weight settled upon the end of his sword. When his eyes cleared he could see that his attacker was dead.

A deafening wail caused Sabastian to turn back to the bridge. Meira stained against the chains that bound her to the Anvil. There was no escape and the desperation of the presence within her caused the air to crackle. She screamed, “Save me. Set me free. I must be released before all is lost.”

Without thought for his own safety Sabastian rushed to the giant black stone. With sword in hand began to hack away at the chains and bindings.

The being approaching him from behind began to laugh. The sound rippled through the lava and sent waves of scalding heat upon Sabastian’s back. In desperation Sabastian gathered all of his strength and brought his sword down onto the chains. The force was not enough to separate the links but only shattered his blade. With a look of despair he could see hope fade from Meira’s eyes. The unearthly presence broke through and pierced Sabastian’s gaze. In a moment of silence she said, “Take the hammer that forged these chains and when I pour power into my bounds bring it down and set me free.” Casting aside his broken sword Sabastian took up the rune covered hammer. As Meira focused the elemental powers upon the chains turning them blue with ethereal power Sabastian brought the hammer down with every ounce of strength his willpower could muster.

In a moment there was a flash. It was as if the world blew apart. When Sabastian could open his eyes the sight that he beheld took his breath away. He was no longer at the base of a bridge nor was he upon the mountain. He was in a land of vibrant colours, of hues his eyes had never beheld. He was at peace with the cares of the battle behind him. If anything he wished to linger, to take ease, to rest.

A voice spoke to him while he enjoyed his succor. “Sabastian come back. Come back to me. I shall not be separated from you. This is not the time for rest.” With these words Sabastian could see a golden thread leading from his chest out off into the distance. All of a sudden he felt a pressure. A desire built within him to follow that thread. As he started to move in the threads direction it began to grow. No more a thread but a rope that tugged upon his heart. Again the voice pleaded with him. “You must return to me. Without you I have no purpose or meaning” The words spurred him on. He began to fly upon the vibrant realm ever heading toward the source of the voice.

Within moments he could feel his body stir. As he regained his senses he could feel the weight of life returning to him. With that weight came great pain. It was a pain that proved he was still alive. He opened his eyes to look up into the beautiful visage of a woman looking down upon him. She began to smile in relief as she saw that he was not dead. “What do I call my valiant rescuer? What is the name of the man I owe my freedom?” “My name is Sabastian,” he croaked out, And I’m glad I have found the fair maiden named Meira.” At this she blushed and placed a kiss upon his forehead. ”You have come a fair distance to save me. I shall call you Sabastian Farstrider. My heart will always be yours.”

With a start he sat up and looked out to the bridge but was relieved to see that the portal was gone. With the death of the Flame Brotherhood and the ending of the ritual the worlds seemed to have settled once more.

The two embraced at the foot of the bridge amongst the rubble of the broken anvil and shattered stone. A figure stole back into the shadows. Domenique’s words were cast upon the wind blowing among the boulders, “Enjoy your new found love for now but know it was my voice that brought you back from the dead. Our story is far from over.”

If you appreciated my story please retweet my submission. I have entered it in the #CoEArtContest

I have gone in and reinserted the paragraphs. Thank you VictoriaRachel. I had missed that they had disappeared on me.

The inspiration for the Dieties / Beings actually came from an early Lore discussion Caspian had on IRC.

And the basis for the story over all was from the first stanza of Upon Their Lives I have a story for the second stanza I want to do next.