The Fire Within

Chapter One

“Damn it, Darius.” Arim glared as a blast scorched the stone archway above his head. High atop the battlements of the castle, Tanselm’s legendary sorcerer stood, an intimidating defence against the invading army. Normally safe from attack within the enchanted castle, Arim suddenly ducked to avoid another bolt of blue fire from the ground far below.

When he straightened, he noticed the oldest of the Royal Four, Prince Darius, returning a fiery storm of destruction upon the encroaching Netharat. A haze of heat surrounded the prince as he leaned over the stone wall and narrowed his eyes at the enemy. With outstretched hands he summoned his internal fire and directed its path to destruction through flaming fingertips.

Arim frowned and with a wave of his hand changed the Netharat attacking the castle gate into bodies of solid rock. He turned to Darius. “The shields will hold. Go and gather your brothers in my chamber, now!”

Darius turned to argue, but the red fury darkening Arim’s eyes told him he’d pushed as hard as the sorcerer would tolerate. Though it grated him to withdraw, he left Arim and the other spellcasters to fetch his brothers.

He found Marcus, Cadmus and Aerolus staking the eastern turret, raining deluges of water, rippling shocks of rock and powerful blasts of wind upon the enemy steadily approaching the castle’s defensive perimeter. Muttered spells and intent stares, stabbing hands and sweeping arms commanded the elements to do his brothers’ bidding. He watched them battle, impressed despite his familiarity with such sights. But Arim’s words recalled him to purpose.

“Cease your attacks and come with me,” he called to his brothers after torching one wraith bent on bridging the now frozen moat surrounding the castle. The creature shrieked and flailed trying to douse the flames. “Arim orders us to his chamber.”

“But—” Cadmus tried to protest.

“No buts.” Darius looked out over the castle wall and cursed as he spotted the dimensional gateway through which the enemy had entered. Far in the distance, the gateway looked like a molten pool of fire against the pale blue sky. Unfortunately, cascading down from that pool onto the ground came another wave of Netharat, a foul river of corruption staining the very land they touched.

“We have to go,” Aerolus agreed, his voice calm in contrast to the chaos surrounding them.

As one the four brothers raced through the castle to Arim’s chamber deep in the heart of their home. The moment they approached the hardy oak door, it swung open, allowing the brothers entry into a room teeming with magic.

Like the steady droning of bees, a subtle hum vibrated within the stone walls, making the air crackle with energy. A narrow bed lay along one wall while a nearby desk filled with parchment and quills graced the adjoining wall. Tables and flat workstations filled the rest of the spacious room. On every surface except the bed lay glass pitchers and clay bowls filled with the sorcerer’s spell castings.

“It took you long enough.” Darius nearly jumped as Queen Ravyn closed the door with a wave of her hand, stepping out from its shadow. She narrowed her eyes, lingering on Cadmus. “When Arim gives an order, you obey.”

Tall and stately, with the catlike eyes and dark black hair she’d passed to all her sons, Queen Ravyn watched the Royal Four like a bird of prey about to swoop. Her understated power seemed to thrive in Arim’s chamber, her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazing as she studied her sons.

“Mother,” Darius said, his body taut with the effort to contain the powerful energy seething around him. He noticed his brothers looking equally uneasy. “Shouldn’t you be in your tower under guard?”

She scoffed and motioned him and his brothers farther into the room. “You do take after your father, don’t you?” She smiled sadly, a grim reminder of his father’s recent passing. “I am just as strong as Faustus was, Darius. I may not command the winds, but there’s more to my strength than elemental magic.” Her eyes narrowed. “And not one word about my frail state of mind. I just lost my husband, but I’m not an invalid. And I’ve power enough to stop these invaders from taking my crown.”

Darius blinked at the reprimand. He glanced at his brothers to see what they made of the ’gentle‘ queen and saw them equally confused. Indeed, his mother certainly appeared more warrior than royal lady. Her green eyes were lit with an inner fierceness; her stance was both battle-ready and aggressive.

Gone were her royal robes of blue and the seal of power draped around her throat. She wore a long-sleeved red tunic and black trousers, very similar to the garb Arim had been wearing.

As if his thoughts had conjured the sorcerer, Arim suddenly appeared in a corner of the room, bringing a rush of energy into the already intense area.

“Quickly, we have little time.”

“Time for what?” Marcus asked, looking as irritated by Arim’s vague orders as Darius felt.

Ravyn frowned but Arim shook his head. “No, Ravyn, they need to know before it’s too late.”

Darius and his brothers stared in surprise. Never had Arim spoken so informally with their mother. Always before it had been ’Queen Ravyn‘ or ’Honourable Lady’.

“The Netharat attack this day with one purpose and one purpose only. To kill the Royal Four and thus destroy the royal line.”

“All the more reason to meet them in opposition. The Storm Lords do not bow to anyone,” Darius said, sure of his brothers’ support. That anyone could think to destroy the peace and beauty of their land… The familiar rage built, and heat festered inside him begging for release.

“No,” his mother interjected. “We cannot risk you four now.” She glanced at Arim, then continued. “Word arrived this morning that’s changed everything. The other kingdoms have weakened.”

“What do you mean?” Marcus asked, his clear blue eyes clouding with suspicion.

“Before the sunrise this morning, your uncles passed into the Light, along with your aunts and cousins.” Ravyn’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “We are all that remain of the Storm Lords.”

Darius stared at her in shock. Tanselm had always been protected by the Tetrarch—four identical brothers of royal blood. For one thousand years peace and tranquillity reigned over a prosperous land filled with precious life-giving soil and ever-spawning wildlife. That evil should now retake what the original Storm Lords had once fought so hard to obtain was unthinkable.

As his home, the western territory, was under attack, the other three territories lay even more vulnerable to a Netharat onslaught. It just didn’t seem possible that the power of the Storm Lords could have let such a thing happen.

“It’s true,” Arim stated quietly, his voice vibrant with authority. He gazed at each of them. “Your father was poisoned, like the other monarchs, by an evil the Djinn concocted. If we don’t get you four out of here, you will certainly die, killing the rest of us as surely as we stand here talking.”

Cadmus ran a hand through his thick black hair. “The shields would never let the Djinn enter Tanselm.”

“I didn’t say the Djinn entered our world, only that they are in league with the Netharat.”

“But they ally with no one. They never have,” Marcus protested.

“Until now.” Arim spoke with confidence, his eyes grim, the dark black irises swallowed by a fierce red anger. “I don’t know how ’Sin Garu is doing it, but he’s amassed the Netharat and the Djinn to do his bidding. He’s penetrated our shields just enough to allow his wraiths to create a dimension portal and killed not one but all of the Tetrarch. If not for you four and your mother, Tanselm’s shields would have completely fallen by now.”

“And you, Arim,” Ravyn said softly. “Your power is perhaps the strongest of us all.”

Darius stared suspiciously from his mother to the sorcerer. Her tone was unnervingly loving.

She smiled and placed a hand on Arim’s arm, earning an unwilling growl from Darius and a glare from Marcus and Cadmus. But what she said next stunned Darius into quiet. She stared into Arim’s face. “My brother forgets himself.”

Darius’ jaw dropped. He had to force himself to blink, then turned to see if his brothers had heard what he had. They too looked stunned, even Aerolus who rarely showed his emotions.

“Your brother!” Darius stared from the royal sorcerer to his mother. “You said you had no family save Father and us. What, by the Light’s form, is going on?” Confusion turned his frustration into temper, and he had to fight to keep from breaking something.

“I’m sorry, Darius, but I’m trying to tell you what I can in the brief time we have left.” His mother walked to him and reached up to stroke his cheek. “Because of the real possibility you and your brothers might die if you stay here, you have to leave Tanselm. At least if something happens to me or Arim, you four hold the power necessary to save our land.”

“But only if you succeed in the task ahead,” Arim added.

Darius stared at the sorcerer, unable to resist comparing the large man to his mother. Both possessed dark hair and golden skin, not uncommon throughout the kingdom. But upon closer scrutiny, he saw the same high cheekbones, the same strong, piercing stare from almond-shaped eyes, facial similarities that until now he’d never noticed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell all of you sooner,” his mother said, nodding towards Arim. “But my past is complicated, and I always thought there’d be more time. You four are our only hope. You must go and find the future.”

“The future?” Cadmus asked, incredulous, his eyes passing from Ravyn to Arim in alarm. “There may be no future for Tanselm, Mother. How can you ask us to leave in this time of crisis? To desert our people and you?”

“She isn’t asking you,” Arim said in a forbidding tone. “She’s telling you to go. Your mother and I have foreseen the need for this passage for quite some time. We know you better than you know yourselves.”

Darius’ eyes narrowed. “Foreseen the need? You knew the Netharat would come.” Arim did not respond. “You’re sending us to another world to find a weapon with which to fight, aren’t you?” Arim was a commanding sorcerer, never cowardly or without a plan. “Something powerful no doubt.”

Cadmus shook his head. “We have plenty of magic here in Tanselm. Why should we leave it for another world? And it may not even be open. ’Sin Garu has blocked all other passages to energised planes.”

“He does not know of this world’s existence,” Arim answered, “thanks to your mother’s keen spellcasting. The importance of this plane cannot be denied. It is there you’ll find the key to Tanselm’s future.”

“What is it then?” Darius asked, his voice laced with frustration. “This isn’t the time for cryptic riddles, Uncle.” Arim’s expression grew darker but Darius blundered on, uncaring. “Tell us what to seek and we shall find it.”

“Women,” his mother answered succinctly, her lips pursed. “Had you four listened to me years ago and sought wives, you might already have averted this near-catastrophe.”

“Or suffered the same fate as the slain in the other kingdoms.” Arim spoke quietly as he scattered dark ash on the floor.

“Perhaps,” she agreed, tiredly. “But all the same, we are running out of time. You must find your affai, and quickly.”

“Our affai?” Marcus blinked, his shock mirroring Darius’ own. “You want us to seek brides? Now?”

At least Darius wasn’t the only one having a hard time believing any of this to be real. The kingdom was in danger of falling, their people perilously close to annihilation, and Arim and his mother wanted them to find brides?

“With the four corners of Tanselm empty, each of you will need to fill the void left behind by your uncles and father.” Arim crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his stance unmoving. He seemed ageless, his eyes bright and his skin translucent amidst the magical lights flickering in the room. “Your father earned the kingship because he and your mother were blessed with you four identical sons, mirror images of the power and grace of the Storm Lords.

“Now each of you must find a bride, a woman of courage and faith, a woman able to face the challenges Tanselm presents. One of you will father four identical sons to continue the future of our people. Unless you find your affai, life in Tanselm as we know it will end.”

Darius cursed and shook his head. “We can’t find heart mates in another plane, Arim. What promise do we have that this other realm possesses the magic we have? No, we must stay and find a bride from one of our own, to ensure the continued line of strength for the Storm Lords.”

His brothers nodded, all but Aerolus who stood still, watching everyone carefully.

His mother’s eyes burned, both with tears and anger. “Then you should have found a bride here years ago, when The Season was ripe. But no. All four of you avoided betrothal like the plague.” She laughed bitterly. “And now a plague infests our world. The time has come. I know the possibilities that await you in this foreign world.”

Her eyes glowed, a not so subtle reminder that Queen Ravyn had power in her own right. “Your affai await you. But there is more to your search than finding the one to birth the Royal Four. Each of you needs the strength and power that only your affai can give you. Only with their aid can we rebuild a land strong enough to withstand the evil that constantly threatens.”

“Then give us a Knowing Crystal,” Aerolus said, surprising Darius that he would agree to leave Tanselm in such crisis.

“They have all been destroyed,” Arim answered. “You will have to rely on your judgement, on your hearts. Love abounds everywhere and is in the least likely places.” His expression took on a strange cast, one Darius found curiously regretful. “I have faith you will find those you need to aid us in this cause. And there you will also find that the blood of your mother runs strong in you.”

He stared at all four of them, lingering on Darius last. “You must not fail us.” He began chanting, and the ash on the floor spread into a dark void staining the area beneath the brothers’ feet.

“Wait!” Events were unfolding far too quickly to suit Darius. He needed time to absorb what he’d been told, time to understand. His temper soared when he realised Arim continued to cast the spell, ignoring him. “Dammit, Sorcerer! I can’t leave with the Netharat breathing down our necks. At least give us time to throw them back through the gateway.”

“I agree,” Marcus said.

“And I,” Cadmus added.

Aerolus said nothing, merely stared at Arim.

In the midst of their rebellion, their mother suddenly smiled, a mysterious grin that made her look years younger. She lifted her hands and bolts of lightning crackled from her fingertips, a sight they’d never before seen from the gentle Queen of the West. “I will miss you all. Remember to look deep within yourselves to find your inner powers, beyond that which you think you know. And bring back our salvation.”

She smiled through tears and pressed her hands to her heart. “My love is with you. Don’t let us down. Find your affai.”

“No.” Darius turned to leave, shooting a firebolt at the oak door barring their exit. Rage suffused him that he would be denied the opportunity to avenge his father and the Storm Lords. He literally saw red, his anger growing by the second. “I’m not going—” he growled before the world faded to black.

When he next opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a strange sky overlooking a world not his own. The sky was still blue, the trees still green, yet everything felt flat, lacking the spark of magic that made Tanselm so rich. His senses felt dampened. The colours weren’t as bright, the smell of life muted, as if filtered by the heavy air around them. A low growl broke his study and he blinked at the dangerous beasts close approaching. Canine, he thought as he rolled to his feet and reached for the dagger he always kept at his side. Somewhat smaller than those at home, yet just as deadly in a pack. And as one in particular leaned closer to bare its teeth, he wondered if they would have been safer in Tanselm fighting the Netharat.