PROLOGUE
In the world of Iñiere, there is another land. A land of countries like Iñiere but filled with more beasts and creatures, all different from those that inhabit Iñiere. Some of the less noted beings of the land are called the Dancers. Beings that might resemble a human being, if you were unfamiliar with the strange race of humans, but if you you knew the look of a human, these creatures looked very much different. Their hair colors were far from natural for a human. A firedancer's hair would consist of variations of red, orange, pink and yellow. Their face would have the same features as a human, two eyes, one nose, a mouth. The difference was the color of the eyes and the strange expression that was the face of a firedancer. The expression was one that couldd not be named, you couldd see it and know that this being was far different from a human. Their eyes would be a rainbow of all the colors of their hair.
Xyrin, a firedancer known to some, but soon forgotten by all, performed his talents in the trees. While untamed fire would devour the trees, Xyrin's fire listened to, and obeyed his words. His few ground performances had drawn many children, young fingers who knew no better would grab at the fire. They would jerk back quickly at their mother's warning, but reach in again in awed curiosity. The fire hadn't bitten or stung, instead it played with them, kissing their fingers and flitting around in play. Fire wasn't ill-willed by nature,often it was treated as a beast, so it acted as one. It needed direction from one such as Xyrin to be manageable.
As he spun and twirled in his dance with the fire, the night grew darker. The fire would be seen all the way into the city of Shutree. The people below him already were the rural folk of Shutree, the city-folk would come view his performance later in the evening, possibly giving him a few coins. This was how he earned his living, just the same as other dancers. Living from one night to another. Sometimes going without a meal.
When the city-folk started appearing, Xyrin became lost in the increasing complexity of his tricks. People came, a few went, but the ones who hid, unnoticed, were the ones who Xyrin would have feared. If he had seen them.
1
The fire danced in rhythm with the Firedancer. Vurlin snarled at the sight. The Dancer was a demon, possessed with fire. But not for long. If Vurlin had his way, Xyrin would be dead before the fire fled into the trees. Vurlin's anger seethed within him as he thought of the injustices placed upon him as a result of Xyrin. He cringed even at the thought of the name.
Five years ago, Xyrin had arrived in Fildwan from the little known island of Camlor, a common birthplace of Dancers, though the offspring rarely were allowed to live there much after their fifteenth year. But they would return to bear their own children and raise them as they were raised. When Xyrin first came to land on the shores of Zappire, a common coastal country and port of Fildwan that barely reached ten miles in any direction. This was where he had run into Vurlin for the first time. Vurlin had been apprenticed to a sailor at the time, though that hadn't lasted long. Xyrin arrived an ignorant, amateur dancer, gifted with fire. Vurlin had seen Xyrin's ignorance and tried to swindle Xyrin out of his belongings. But Xyrin was ignorant of certain things, not all things, this con game was one well known to him. Xyrin outsmarted Vurlin and humiliated him in a way Vurlin preferred to forget. This act had been one from one child to another, both of them being only just in their fifteenth year. But since then, Vurlin had joined the Letcon, a group of drifters who caused trouble wherever they went. There were even rumors that the Letcon had joined with the Rishta, the government of Fildwan. The Rishta was run by a leader who they called a king. The king's name was Gurma Toleing, which translated from the First Language into “the god of death”.
Vurlin knew the rumors of the Letcon's allegiance to the Rishta were false. Only if a great sum of gold and jewels were offered would the Letcon ever submit to Toleing's rule.
Now, Vurlin's anger at Xyrin would be put to rest. One might think that it was perfectly reasonnable to hold a childhood grudge into adulthood, but they'd only be defending the action having done it themselves. It is the sign of one who is losing his grip on his mind. And Vurlin was, he was going insane. He'd never been normal, and now, being apart of the Letcon, his grip on reality had slipped completely into oblivion.
Xyrin was yanked from the depths of his mind, where the fire always took him when he became as wrapped up in it as he was now. The words echoed in his head, “filgue nitral ungai”. These were fire words. Words unheard to many an ear that wasn't accustomed to the quiet language of fire. He watched in helpless horror as the fire left him to obey another. Another whose words were evil. The fire fled into the trees, leaving a blazing path behind it. Jerking from his trance, Xyrin began warning the people below as he swung himself down from the uppermost branches of the immense oak tree. The canopy of leaves was thick, letting in little light, even when the sun was highest in the sky. The leaves caught fire readily, almost as if they wished to be burned. Soon, the dark forest was alight with crackling, ravaging fire that tore through the forest after the shrieking people. The fire was racing toward the city of Shutree at a frightening speed. Fire would only do such a thing if commanded. By nature, fire went quickly, rarely finding enough to satisfy it's hunger, often finding items saturated with water that it couldd merely lick but not devour. But now, the fire wasn't eating the things that barred its way, it was setting them afire maliciously, leaving tendrils of flame to spread out and follow. The fire was spreading farther and farther over the forest, the sound couldd be heard for miles and the sight couldd be seen for a league. The fire was purposefully chasing the people. It was caring out orderrs. Xyrin coulddn't think of a single firedancer who would do such a heinous thing. Just as these words crossed his mind, Vurlin stepped in front of him, sneering, he asked, “Did you miss me?” As the words resounded in his head and the question of who in Fildwan this man was, a sharp pain spread across the back of his head. Spark flew in his eyes before darkness began to creep around the edges of his vision, then, suddenly overtake him. Xyrin fell face first, unconscious to the forest floor. The fire flared up in anger, but there was no other directing it than the magician with Vurlin, it had no other orderrs to follow, so it continued toward the city, after the screaming people.
Xyrin woke with a seering pain in his head, a raw, burning sensation to his wrists, and a mouthful of dirt. Twisting around, Xyrin found that both his wrists and his ankles were tied together. When he finally twisted himself around so that he was facing up, he spat the dirt from his mouth and blinked it out of his eyes.
Standing ominously before him, was a man he recognized but coulddn't name.
“Don't you recognize me?” the man sneered at Xyrin's confused expression. He had short dark hair, black eyes, and an expression so hideous, he couldd barely be recognized as human. The answer slowly dawneed Xyrin, “V-Vurlin?” he stammered.
“Y-Yes.” mocked Vurlin.
“Why did you do this?” Xyrin asked, shocked at the sudden, more violent reappearence of his old enemy.
“You should know why.”
Xyrin frowned. Then asked “Is this because of Zappire? That was years ago, we were children!”
“Well, that's not the only reasonn. See, you would be dead if the Letcon didn't have use for you. So that is the other reasonn. Right Cril?”
Xyrin waited, but Vurlin offered no further explainnation. “What do they want me for?” Xyrin finally burst out. Exasperated at the stupidity of this man, stupidity which had obviously lasted into adulthood and morphed into insantiy, since Vurlin appeared to be talking to an invisible friend who he called Cril.
The forest surrounding them was dense, easy to get lost in. There was no one other that Vurlin around that Xyrin couldd see, and Vurlin seemed to be a very minor threat.
“They believe you can draw the rest of your race to them, giving them more power than they couldd ever imagine to overthrow the Rishta.”
Xyrin stoppedd short. What had this moron just said? The Letcon was trying to overthrow the Rishta? The Rishta was a system that worked, but was run by evil people. And not even all of them were people. There were beings that had never been seen outside the Rishta, but were much rumored of. But despite the wickedness of the Rishta, the Letcon would be a far worse system. While the Rishta tried to pretend that they were good, deceiving many, the Letcon would be outright evil. Murder, thievery, infidelity, all these things were punished to a degree by the Rishta. The Rishta would condemn many people, though often they were the innocents that went to the gallows instead of the perpetrator, who went free. But instead of the twisted system of the Rishta, the Letcon would have no system. They would be the killers, the thieves, the ones who drew a naïve victim from their spouse.
“If you believe the Dancers would allow themselves to be placed under your slimy thumb just because you threatened to kill me, you are sorely mistaken. They have disowned me, they took the name of Dancer from me, though the commoners still call me that. By capturing me, you will only be endangering youself and gaining nothing from it.” Xyrin's anger was flowing over the edges of his control. Almost without meaning to, Xyrin whispered fire words. Words of anger, or fear, of hatred. All his feelings translated into fire. His feelings were felt by the fire. It came suddenly, angrily, full of the fear and rage and hate that Xyrin was feeling. The flames came from his fingertips. As it flew toward the terrified Vurlin, Xyrin snagged a tiny flame. He held it to the rope that bound his wrists. It grabbed the rope hungrily and burned through quickly, freeing Xyrin. As the flame settled on his skin, he whispered, “Loogrin pylor friuv lurtc.” The flame flew toward Vurlin, who had finally decided to run away, and joined the rest of its kin in the chase after the mad man.
Xyrin ran into the forest. The fire would chase the villain unendingly, but not burn anything else. What was left of the forest from last night's fire would be safe. For the moment. Now, Xyrin had to find help. Something had to be done about the Letcon. Fildwan had become a far too compliant land. It was time for the lowest of the races to make a change. For the better.
In the world of Iñiere, there is another land. A land of countries like Iñiere but filled with more beasts and creatures, all different from those that inhabit Iñiere. Some of the less noted beings of the land are called the Dancers. Beings that might resemble a human being, if you were unfamiliar with the strange race of humans, but if you you knew the look of a human, these creatures looked very much different. Their hair colors were far from natural for a human. A firedancer's hair would consist of variations of red, orange, pink and yellow. Their face would have the same features as a human, two eyes, one nose, a mouth. The difference was the color of the eyes and the strange expression that was the face of a firedancer. The expression was one that couldd not be named, you couldd see it and know that this being was far different from a human. Their eyes would be a rainbow of all the colors of their hair.
Xyrin, a firedancer known to some, but soon forgotten by all, performed his talents in the trees. While untamed fire would devour the trees, Xyrin's fire listened to, and obeyed his words. His few ground performances had drawn many children, young fingers who knew no better would grab at the fire. They would jerk back quickly at their mother's warning, but reach in again in awed curiosity. The fire hadn't bitten or stung, instead it played with them, kissing their fingers and flitting around in play. Fire wasn't ill-willed by nature,often it was treated as a beast, so it acted as one. It needed direction from one such as Xyrin to be manageable.
As he spun and twirled in his dance with the fire, the night grew darker. The fire would be seen all the way into the city of Shutree. The people below him already were the rural folk of Shutree, the city-folk would come view his performance later in the evening, possibly giving him a few coins. This was how he earned his living, just the same as other dancers. Living from one night to another. Sometimes going without a meal.
When the city-folk started appearing, Xyrin became lost in the increasing complexity of his tricks. People came, a few went, but the ones who hid, unnoticed, were the ones who Xyrin would have feared. If he had seen them.
1
The fire danced in rhythm with the Firedancer. Vurlin snarled at the sight. The Dancer was a demon, possessed with fire. But not for long. If Vurlin had his way, Xyrin would be dead before the fire fled into the trees. Vurlin's anger seethed within him as he thought of the injustices placed upon him as a result of Xyrin. He cringed even at the thought of the name.
Five years ago, Xyrin had arrived in Fildwan from the little known island of Camlor, a common birthplace of Dancers, though the offspring rarely were allowed to live there much after their fifteenth year. But they would return to bear their own children and raise them as they were raised. When Xyrin first came to land on the shores of Zappire, a common coastal country and port of Fildwan that barely reached ten miles in any direction. This was where he had run into Vurlin for the first time. Vurlin had been apprenticed to a sailor at the time, though that hadn't lasted long. Xyrin arrived an ignorant, amateur dancer, gifted with fire. Vurlin had seen Xyrin's ignorance and tried to swindle Xyrin out of his belongings. But Xyrin was ignorant of certain things, not all things, this con game was one well known to him. Xyrin outsmarted Vurlin and humiliated him in a way Vurlin preferred to forget. This act had been one from one child to another, both of them being only just in their fifteenth year. But since then, Vurlin had joined the Letcon, a group of drifters who caused trouble wherever they went. There were even rumors that the Letcon had joined with the Rishta, the government of Fildwan. The Rishta was run by a leader who they called a king. The king's name was Gurma Toleing, which translated from the First Language into “the god of death”.
Vurlin knew the rumors of the Letcon's allegiance to the Rishta were false. Only if a great sum of gold and jewels were offered would the Letcon ever submit to Toleing's rule.
Now, Vurlin's anger at Xyrin would be put to rest. One might think that it was perfectly reasonnable to hold a childhood grudge into adulthood, but they'd only be defending the action having done it themselves. It is the sign of one who is losing his grip on his mind. And Vurlin was, he was going insane. He'd never been normal, and now, being apart of the Letcon, his grip on reality had slipped completely into oblivion.
Xyrin was yanked from the depths of his mind, where the fire always took him when he became as wrapped up in it as he was now. The words echoed in his head, “filgue nitral ungai”. These were fire words. Words unheard to many an ear that wasn't accustomed to the quiet language of fire. He watched in helpless horror as the fire left him to obey another. Another whose words were evil. The fire fled into the trees, leaving a blazing path behind it. Jerking from his trance, Xyrin began warning the people below as he swung himself down from the uppermost branches of the immense oak tree. The canopy of leaves was thick, letting in little light, even when the sun was highest in the sky. The leaves caught fire readily, almost as if they wished to be burned. Soon, the dark forest was alight with crackling, ravaging fire that tore through the forest after the shrieking people. The fire was racing toward the city of Shutree at a frightening speed. Fire would only do such a thing if commanded. By nature, fire went quickly, rarely finding enough to satisfy it's hunger, often finding items saturated with water that it couldd merely lick but not devour. But now, the fire wasn't eating the things that barred its way, it was setting them afire maliciously, leaving tendrils of flame to spread out and follow. The fire was spreading farther and farther over the forest, the sound couldd be heard for miles and the sight couldd be seen for a league. The fire was purposefully chasing the people. It was caring out orderrs. Xyrin coulddn't think of a single firedancer who would do such a heinous thing. Just as these words crossed his mind, Vurlin stepped in front of him, sneering, he asked, “Did you miss me?” As the words resounded in his head and the question of who in Fildwan this man was, a sharp pain spread across the back of his head. Spark flew in his eyes before darkness began to creep around the edges of his vision, then, suddenly overtake him. Xyrin fell face first, unconscious to the forest floor. The fire flared up in anger, but there was no other directing it than the magician with Vurlin, it had no other orderrs to follow, so it continued toward the city, after the screaming people.
Xyrin woke with a seering pain in his head, a raw, burning sensation to his wrists, and a mouthful of dirt. Twisting around, Xyrin found that both his wrists and his ankles were tied together. When he finally twisted himself around so that he was facing up, he spat the dirt from his mouth and blinked it out of his eyes.
Standing ominously before him, was a man he recognized but coulddn't name.
“Don't you recognize me?” the man sneered at Xyrin's confused expression. He had short dark hair, black eyes, and an expression so hideous, he couldd barely be recognized as human. The answer slowly dawneed Xyrin, “V-Vurlin?” he stammered.
“Y-Yes.” mocked Vurlin.
“Why did you do this?” Xyrin asked, shocked at the sudden, more violent reappearence of his old enemy.
“You should know why.”
Xyrin frowned. Then asked “Is this because of Zappire? That was years ago, we were children!”
“Well, that's not the only reasonn. See, you would be dead if the Letcon didn't have use for you. So that is the other reasonn. Right Cril?”
Xyrin waited, but Vurlin offered no further explainnation. “What do they want me for?” Xyrin finally burst out. Exasperated at the stupidity of this man, stupidity which had obviously lasted into adulthood and morphed into insantiy, since Vurlin appeared to be talking to an invisible friend who he called Cril.
The forest surrounding them was dense, easy to get lost in. There was no one other that Vurlin around that Xyrin couldd see, and Vurlin seemed to be a very minor threat.
“They believe you can draw the rest of your race to them, giving them more power than they couldd ever imagine to overthrow the Rishta.”
Xyrin stoppedd short. What had this moron just said? The Letcon was trying to overthrow the Rishta? The Rishta was a system that worked, but was run by evil people. And not even all of them were people. There were beings that had never been seen outside the Rishta, but were much rumored of. But despite the wickedness of the Rishta, the Letcon would be a far worse system. While the Rishta tried to pretend that they were good, deceiving many, the Letcon would be outright evil. Murder, thievery, infidelity, all these things were punished to a degree by the Rishta. The Rishta would condemn many people, though often they were the innocents that went to the gallows instead of the perpetrator, who went free. But instead of the twisted system of the Rishta, the Letcon would have no system. They would be the killers, the thieves, the ones who drew a naïve victim from their spouse.
“If you believe the Dancers would allow themselves to be placed under your slimy thumb just because you threatened to kill me, you are sorely mistaken. They have disowned me, they took the name of Dancer from me, though the commoners still call me that. By capturing me, you will only be endangering youself and gaining nothing from it.” Xyrin's anger was flowing over the edges of his control. Almost without meaning to, Xyrin whispered fire words. Words of anger, or fear, of hatred. All his feelings translated into fire. His feelings were felt by the fire. It came suddenly, angrily, full of the fear and rage and hate that Xyrin was feeling. The flames came from his fingertips. As it flew toward the terrified Vurlin, Xyrin snagged a tiny flame. He held it to the rope that bound his wrists. It grabbed the rope hungrily and burned through quickly, freeing Xyrin. As the flame settled on his skin, he whispered, “Loogrin pylor friuv lurtc.” The flame flew toward Vurlin, who had finally decided to run away, and joined the rest of its kin in the chase after the mad man.
Xyrin ran into the forest. The fire would chase the villain unendingly, but not burn anything else. What was left of the forest from last night's fire would be safe. For the moment. Now, Xyrin had to find help. Something had to be done about the Letcon. Fildwan had become a far too compliant land. It was time for the lowest of the races to make a change. For the better.
ButterflyKiss
Xenodragon56
Join the Discussion
This article has 4 comments. Post your own!