Enflamed (Book 2) (2 page)

One of the men broke from the
group and approached cautiously, keeping his wary gaze on Kaijin.

Kaijin’s ears perked.
“They
seek to destroy you, Kaijin Sora,”
the voice in his mind said, eclipsing
the men’s voices surrounding him.
“They seek to destroy ...
us
.”

Everything went red. Something
took over Kaijin’s body so fast that it left him confused. He opened his mouth
to utter a chant, but a ball of fire was already evoked in his hands. Against
his will, Kaijin felt himself launch the fireball toward the group of
vagabonds.

A few men caught in the blast
screamed as their bodies caught on fire. The others scrambled out of the way,
cowered, and ran.

Lander watched his comrades
flee and was about to do the same. He looked back at Kaijin, trembling, his
shaking hands clutching the spellbook. “H
–
hey,
who—
What
... what
are
you?”

The pulsating heat from the
charm intensified, increasing in tempo. Kaijin stood and faced the cowering
man. He clenched his fists, which began to burn in whitefire. He took a step,
and the fire encompassed his entire body.

Lander stepped backwards. “D
–
don’t hurt me!” he begged, nearly stumbling over his
own feet.

Kaijin’s eyes narrowed. One of
his fists
raised
, preparing to unleash another fiery
attack.

The sight of the intensifying
flames seemed more than enough for Lander to turn and sprint down the road.
“I’m not ready to die!” he screamed, dropping the spellbook as he ran. The
dagger also slipped from his boot.

Rage still filled Kaijin, even
after the commotion ceased. He stared at the burned corpses of the three
unfortunate vagabonds and soon felt the sensation in his body subside. “No ...
not again....” he muttered.

He took a deep breath, and his
vision returned to normal. The corpses had been rendered unrecognizable by the
raging flames. Kaijin turned his head away from the sight. He staggered to his
discarded spellbook and sank to his knees before it. He pulled it to him and
brushed off the dirt that had found its way inside the cover’s raised metallic
crevices as he allowed his mind to refocus on his present state.

Kaijin turned his face to the
sky.
“Come, Miele,”
he said in his mind.

Miele’s high-pitched
screeching came moments later. She leapt from her leafy hiding spot and
fluttered to him.

Kaijin smiled briefly to her,
then
returned his spellbook to his haversack. “That was ...
unfortunate,” he said to her aloud. “I’m just glad you’re safe, Miele. And my
spellbook ...”

Miele responded with several
happy shrieks and then fluttered around his head.

Kaijin arose and gathered the
dagger and discarded jar, salvaging as many of the spilled honeysticks as he
could. He presented one to Miele before securing the rest. “Here, Miele. You
were very brave, to do what you did. You protected your master! Such courage
deserves a fitting reward.”

Miele dove toward her favorite
treat. With her tiny maw opened wide, she plucked the honeystick from his hand
and settled on his shoulder to savor it happily.

Kaijin felt a newfound
strength fill him as Miele’s excited energy amplified. It was strength he
needed to resume his trek along the stretch of winding road eastward, unknowing
of where his journey would take him.

II

The late evening shadows cast
a faint outline of a city in the distance. Kaijin slowed his steps and looked
ahead.
How long have I been traveling?
The sight of the city toyed with
his senses. He could already taste the warm meals and feel the soft beds.
Living out in the wilderness for weeks had proved brutal on his body, and he
wanted nothing more than to live a simple life again. But he already suspected
things would not come easily—not if that fiery spirit in his mind had anything
to do with it.

Kaijin urged his exhausted
body forward. Two guards posted outside the gates spotted him and watched as he
trudged past. One of the guards moved to assist Kaijin but was promptly stopped
by his fellow soldier.

“Stop helping every damnable
refugee that comes through here,” the other guard scolded.

“Sorry, sir.
He looked too weak to walk. I just wanted to—”

“Use that strength to help keep
order around here. All these refugees are liable to cause trouble.”

“Yes, sir....”

Kaijin glanced sidelong at the
two men before making his way into the city. Looking above, Kaijin noticed
Miele flutter over the gates, entering the city unnoticed.

Once he was inside, she
swooped back down to follow him.

The city appeared considerably
smaller than Easthaven; however, it was just as crowded. Refugees young and old
filled the streets and alleys. But even amid the despair hanging heavily in the
air, streamers, ribbons and other decorations adorned some of the buildings,
creating colorful paths toward the town square. Flashy posters embellished the
walls near the city gates, advertising an upcoming event.

Tired, Kaijin spied an inn nearby,
and relief spread through his body like a wave. As he dragged his exhausted and
beaten body to the door, he heard murmuring around him and noticed some
refugees and resident passersby cast curious glances his way. Candles flickered
in the windows of the inn, emanating a welcoming glow.

Before entering, Kaijin looked
to the sky. He felt Miele’s presence nearby but could only make out the faint
outline of her small body against the black night sky.
“I doubt they will
allow you inside. Enjoy the evening, but don’t stray too far from the inn.”
Miele screeched softly in response, and he watched her silhouette flutter to
the side of the inn, where a blossoming moonflower vine grew. Kaijin smiled
slightly, feeling her contentment.

Kaijin stumbled through the
door and slumped over at the counter. The inn was quiet inside, with very few
patrons milling about at that late hour. The smell of stale ale and spoiled
apples lingered heavily in the air.

“Welcome to the Bottomless
Cauldron,” a portly man greeted him in a husky voice. “What’ll it be tonight?”
He paused, looked down his nose at Kaijin and scowled.
“Hells!
Not another one.”

Kaijin lifted his gaze.
“Sir?”

“I thought all you damned
refugees stopped coming days ago!”

“How do you know I’m a
refugee?”

The man crossed his thick
arms. “Seen enough of ’em to know what they look like ...” The man’s bushy
peppered-blonde mustache lifted slightly, revealing his sneer. “And smell like.
And don’t even think about asking for a room. Did you not see all those people
sleeping on the streets on your way in here? Every inn in town’s been filled
beyond capacity—including mine. I suggest you find a nice li’l corner to sleep
in like the rest of ’em.”

Kaijin heaved a sigh. “Please,
sir. I’ll do anything for a room. I’ll work and pay it off, if I must. Please.
I just want to sleep in a bed.”

“You and
half this city.
Look, I told
you—I’ve nothing available. Now, unless you intend to buy a meal or a drink
...”

A meal sounded nice, but a
good night’s rest sounded even better. It was getting harder to stay awake the
more he thought about a cozy room. Out of desperation, Kaijin dumped the
contents of his haversack—his spellbook, dagger and the honeystick jar—onto the
counter. “If it is gold you want, I will give you all that I own.”

“What did I just—” The
innkeeper paused as Kaijin turned the bag inside out.

Kaijin couldn’t find a single
coin. He felt for his jewelry—checked his bloody, skinless earlobes and his
hands for any gold the vagabonds might have missed. They were likewise barren.

“No,” Kaijin muttered, “I
could’ve sworn I had ...”

The innkeeper frowned. “Wait a
minute.” He pointed to the book. “Those symbols—I’ve seen those kinds of things
before from those pompous Ghaeldorund folk that often come around here.” He
narrowed his eyes at Kaijin. “You’re one of those ...
mages,
aren’t
you?”

Kaijin paused and then met the
man’s gaze. “Is that a problem?”

The innkeeper growled and
shoved the book off the counter. “Mages are nothing but trouble. Get out of my
inn.
Hells,
get out of Faywald! We don’t need
Ghaeldorund’s corruption spreading here.”

Kaijin knelt to retrieve his
spellbook. He regarded the innkeeper again, raising his brow curiously. “What
are you talking about, sir?”

“Everyone knows Easthaven was
destroyed by mages. It’s obvious the mages came from Ghaeldorund. Buncha
wicked, vile monsters, they are! Now get the hells out of here, and don’t come
back!”

Kaijin swallowed. Disturbing
images flashed in his mind—the frightened innocents, the undead, the chaos. His
master’s voice, speaking a single name:
Xavorin.

Has news of Xavorin’s
misdeeds caused all of Aransiya to despise mages?

“Xavorin didn’t destroy
Easthaven. You did,”
responded the
fiery voice in his mind.

Kaijin gritted his teeth.
No!

He cast a wary gaze around the
rest of the inn. The lingering patrons had looked up from their drinks and
toward the two of them. Frowning, Kaijin turned back to the innkeeper. “I’m
sorry for disturbing you, sir. I will leave.” He hastily stuffed his items back
into the haversack, then left.

Standing outside the inn,
Kaijin surveyed the crowded streets and occupied alleys. “Hells if I’m leaving
now,” he muttered bitterly. “I can barely keep my eyes open.” He heard horses
nearby. Following the sounds, Kaijin walked east from the inn back toward the
main entrance. Across from the gates, a trail of hay stopped before a small
stable. Kaijin spied three horses in their stalls.

He carefully looked around,
ensuring he wasn’t being watched or followed. He heard Miele flutter overhead
and saw her make her way into a small opening in the gable. He hustled to the
stable and quietly opened the gate.

The horses’ ears flicked his
way. They turned their heads and acknowledged Kaijin’s presence by snorting at
him.

Kaijin’s heart anxiously
pounded. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He crept toward one of the
horse’s stalls, placed his finger to his lips, and whispered, “Shh.... It’s
okay.”
Gods, what am I doing, trying to calm these animals?

To his surprise and relief,
the mare turned her attention elsewhere. The horses in the adjacent stalls
followed suit.

Kaijin entered one of the
empty stalls and plopped down on the small nest of hay inside. He lay on his
back and stared up at the shadows among the stable’s rafters, where he spied
Miele hanging from one of the wooden beams. The dim lights from outside
reflected eerily off her large, ochre eyes as she stared at him intently.

“It’s not the luxury of an
inn, but at least it’s better than sleeping on the hard cobblestone streets. I
really need to rest, now. Go out and play. Alert me if there’s trouble.”

Miele responded with a series
of soft, high-pitched screeches and then promptly flew out of the gable.

After she left, Kaijin tucked
himself into a fetal position, clutched his haversack, and listened to the
sounds of night. His necklace pulsated warmth, a soothing sensation against his
chest, and soon he was lulled to sleep.

* * *

Miele embraced the shadows of
night, encircling the stables from above. Her keen nose detected the pleasantly
sweet fragrance of the moonflowers’ nectar she had feasted on earlier, and she
perked up. However, her attention was drawn to the sounds of scuffling below.
She spied a tiny figure walking near the stable and toward the Bottomless
Cauldron. She swooped down, clung to the wooden beams above the stable’s
entrance, and scrutinized the stranger more closely.

The newcomer, a male, appeared
to be a small child. Shadows concealed his face and traced the outline of his
lean frame. Walking with a skip in his step, he whistled a hearty tune as he
counted a handful of coins. One of the coins slipped from his hand and rolled
underneath the stable gate.

“Soddin’ ’ells!” he grumbled.
He rushed to the gate as fast as his little legs could go before the coin
rolled out of his sight.

Miele watched the coin roll
down the stable’s aisle before settling to a stop beside one of the stalls. The
pinging sound of the silver piece roused a nearby horse, and one of its ears
turned backwards.

The stranger swore under his
breath. “Why does it always gotta be one?” His ears suddenly perked and he
immediately took refuge behind a stack of unopened crates sitting beside the
stables. Two guards walked past, making their way toward the Bottomless
Cauldron while they chatted. When they were gone, the small, shadowy figure
re-emerged and opened the stable gate.

Miele watched the stranger
crawl on all fours down the aisle in search of the lone coin. He ran his hand
along the ground.

“Aha! Found you,” he muttered
quietly, locating the coin next to a hay bale. He scooped up the coin and
placed it in a pouch tied to his belt.

The horse nearby turned its
head and snorted at him. Its tail swished back and forth.

The small figure tilted his head
back, gazing up at the towering unsettled hackney in awe. Barely standing as
high as its gaskin, the stranger held up both hands in surrender. “’Ey, now, I
was just leavin’. No need to get
your ’orse’airs
in a
foddle.”

The horse shook its head and
gave another snort in response.

As the stranger turned to
leave, he craned his head toward the adjacent stall, where Kaijin huddled atop
a small bed of hay, snoring lightly. The stranger slinked into the stall to get
a closer look.

He blinked in surprise.
“A man?”

He reached out to touch
Kaijin’s face, but his hand drifted downward, toward the haversack, where the
top of Kaijin’s spellbook peeked out. The stranger tilted his head.
“’Ey, now.
What do
we
’ave ’ere?”
He nervously licked his top lip and reached for the book.

Miele screeched and flew down
from the beams, diving toward the intruder. She plunged tiny fangs into the
ruddy flesh of his pointed ear.

“Ow!”

* * *

A sound woke Kaijin, who
instinctively tightened his fingers around his haversack. He opened his eyes to
discover a small male.

The pointy ears were enough
for Kaijin to realize that the stranger wasn’t exactly human. His straight,
ebony hair was braided in several spots and tied back in a single topknot.
Light battle scars marred his young, sideburned face, and a single, prominent
scar extended across the bridge of his nose.

“Ahh!
I’m bein’ attacked!” the creature cried out. He dove
into the nearest hay pile and hid.

Kaijin looked at Miele just as
she returned to the rafters. He stood and approached the hay. “What are you
doing?” he demanded, prodding the top of the trembling mound with his finger.

There was a moment of silence
before the small creature’s topknot poked from the top of the hay. His head
slowly appeared as he rose and he gazed at Kaijin with wide, fear-filled eyes.
“Is it gone?” he asked in a trembling voice, muffled somewhat from the hay. His
large eyes turned left and right, as though anticipating another surprise
attack.

Kaijin arched his eyebrow. “Is
what
gone?”

“That
’orrible, man-eatin’ bat! ’
Ow
could you not see such a thing? Look! I got th’ scars to prove it, I do!” The
stranger bent over his injured ear, revealing two tiny bite marks on the tip.

Kaijin studied the marks,
then
chuckled softly. “Miele is no man-eating bat,” he
assured. “She is my familiar. She likes eating fruit and sweet things—like
honeysticks.”

The creature scrunched his
face.
“’Oneysticks?”

“Yes.” Kaijin retrieved the
jar from his haversack and pulled out a treat.

“Oh!
’Oneysticks!
Kinda
like
nyrium-tegos
.”