City of Blaze (The Fireblade Array)

  The Fireblade Array: Volume 1

  City of Blaze

  by

  H.O. Charles

  City of Blaze copyright H.O. Charles 2011

  Copyright Page

  City of Blaze.Copyright 2011 by H.O. Charles. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Fireblade Array

  City of Blaze

  Nation of Blaze

  Anomaly of Blaze

  Blazed Union

  Also by the same author:

  Snowlands

  Follow @ HOCharles on Twitter

  http://cityofblaze.blogspot.com/

  http://www.facebook.com/Hadleigh.O.Charles

  For T and the b3tans

  An array of fires; an array of lives. The Fireblade’s array is eternal, but the beginnings and ends of each life are ever the same. It must always begin with death and end with death.

  Contents

  Glossary of Terms

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Glossary of Terms

  Achellon – A mythical place inhabited by the all-powerful fire gods. It is believed that Achellon is composed entirely of Blaze Energy and that it is the true source of such power. It is often described as a place devoid of pain or suffering.

  Blaze Energy – A fiery power that can be manipulated into weapons, shields, sources of light and even used to construct buildings. It is usually described as blue light in its most basic form, but to most people it is not visible.

  Blazes, The – The fires from which Blaze Energy is extracted. Only wielders (directly) and kanaala (indirectly) have access to these fires.

  Eisiel – A creature so burned by The Blazes that it is half-dead. Described as charred, oily skinned and wasted in appearance, eisiels kill without remorse. They usually hunt for a specific target, but whether they are instructed to do so, or develop their own fixation through madness is not known. It is sometimes said that they are former lovers of wielders, whose fires burned them during love-making. They are immune to weapons made with Blaze Energy.

  Form (Blaze) – A structure made with Blaze Energy that will produce a specific weapon, shield, light or piece of matter. Forms are altered by defining the speed, vibration and shapes of Blaze Energy that make it. Once constructed, most forms can be deconstructed or unravelled, but the time required is dependent upon the complexity of the form.

  Kahr – A male heir of royal blood in the central and eastern areas of the Sennefhal continent.

  Kahriss – A female heir of royal blood in the central and eastern areas of the Sennefhal continent.

  Kanaala – A man who can manipulate (i.e. wield) Blaze forms or deconstruct them. Kanaala are the male counterpart to wielders, and they cannot access Blaze Energy independently. A kanaala can control the Blazes through a wielder, and he can access her fires before her power is fully matured. He also has the ability to permanently quench a wielder of her power.

  Kanaala are the only men who can safely sleep with wielders, though this is dependent upon their grading. For example, a kanaala graded four will almost certainly die if he lies with a wielder graded five and this is due to his limited capacity for her power.

  Kanaala are graded according to their ability, with most falling between grades three and five. A kanaala graded ten is considered to be very powerful indeed.

  A kanaala can detect the presence of a wielder. The more powerful either one is, the greater the distance at which they can sense one another. Kanaala can only detect other kanaala through skin-to-skin contact.

  Kanaala are born with their full potential already reached, and do not mature into their abilities as wielders do. Prospective parents fear giving birth to kanaala, since the child's arrival will almost always result in the mother's death. The same is not true of wielders unless the child has the potential to be especially powerful. It is thought that this difference has something to do with the child's latent Blaze abilities at birth.

  Blaze abilities are often inherited, but have been known to spontaneously appear in families where it has previously been absent.

  Kefruit – A hand-sized, yellow tree fruit with mottled peel. Its sweet flavour makes it popular in desserts.

  Nalka – The physical pain suffered by lovers upon being separated from each other. It usually manifests about ten days after their last engagement in sexual intercourse and is complete within four days of the first pains.

  The affliction is usually fatal to those who suffer it before the age of twenty, and so it is not advised that lovers enter into a sexual relationship before they're old enough to withstand the separation.

  It represents the termination of the bond between partners and their potential to procreate. However, lovers are able to have children subsequently, but only if they are able to maintain a sexual relationship without undergoing nalka for nine years.

  In spite of this phenomenon, brothels and whore houses are prevalent across much of the world.

  Partition (Blaze) – A Blaze form that masks wielding from any nearby kanaala or wielders. The construction of most Blaze forms gives off heat, and a partition will impede any further dispersal of that heat.

  Pinh – A black, poisonous liquid which prevents wounds from healing. If enough poison is ingested by an individual they will suffer pinhatar death, where the blood becomes too saturated with the substance to perform its proper function. Scars that result from wounds are generally caused by the presence of pinh.

  Sarkha – A tube-like implement with a plunger and reservoir at either end, used to clean pinh-saturated wounds that are too deep to be washed any other way. One reservoir is filled with water and the flexible, middle section of the tube is inserted into the wound. Once the water reservoir has been emptied into the injury, the second reservoir can be used to withdraw the diluted poison.

  Swift – An orange, ground-creeping flower, native to mountainous regions.

  Tanno – A juicy, purple berry with a slightly acidic taste. It is usually skinned, pressed and fermented to make wine.

  Vanha-sielu – An old term for an even older group of people, meaning "repeated life." These individuals are born again within two weeks of their deaths, ad infinitum. In each life they carry an identical appearance and are inevitably given the same name by their parents or guardians.

  Occasionally, their own fame in previous lives causes them to be named after themselves.

  Until the age of 23 they are unaware of their deep past, although several aspects of their character will manifest in the same way through childhood. If memories are forced upon a vanha-sielu before their mind is ready to accept them, it can lead to death or madness. However, familiar faces and objects do not seem to trigger this in young vanha-sielu, which implies that a certain set of words are necessary in order to initiate premature recall.

  It is currently unknown how the phenomena of vanha-sielu came about
, and new ones do not appear to have been created in recent times.

  Wielder – A wielder is able to control Blaze Energy and access The Blazes independently. Wielders are exclusively female, born with the potential to reach a certain level of ability, but they can only access their powers independently once they reach the age of twenty. Until then they must employ the aid of kanaala to help them wield.

  A wielder can detect the presence of another wielder. The more powerful either one is, the greater the distance at which they can sense one another. Wielders can only detect kanaala through skin-to-skin contact.

  Wielders are graded according to their ability, with most falling between grades two and four. A wielder graded ten is considered to be very powerful indeed.

  They are banished from Calidell and any discovered in the country, or found to be wielding, are immediately executed. Those born into unsuspecting Calidellian families are usually tracked down and exterminated.

  Wielders must choose their bed-fellows carefully, as they have the potential to burn their lovers alive. For this reason, most wielders will marry kanaala or remain celibate.

  Prologue

  The third day of the first month, 3216 P.D.

  Pain tore down his arms and legs, crossing through his chest, reverberating around his head. His knees hit the polished stone floor. Breath would not come to him; his throat was tightening inexplicably. He reached out with a hand to steady himself, grasping at the rough wooden legs of a foldaway table. His hand found no purchase and struck the glassed flagstones instead. They seemed to whirl before him in a vomitous display of monochrome monotony. The kahr lifted his eyes.

  A wry smile was working its way slowly along Silar’s smooth features. “Come now, it’s barely a scratch! Do you want more or did you hit Baydie’s wine t -?” Silar’s brow furrowed. “Morghiad?”

  Summoning what strength was available to him, Kahr Morghiad rocked back onto his feet and rose from the floor.

  He could smell Silar’s fresh sweat as it combined in a too-familiar blend with the old melange of the practice room. All the world turned to dancing shades of crimson and scarlet. Morghiad stumbled toward where he thought his sword had fallen. It was there: cold and singing. He caught hold of it, turned from Silar and ran. He ran as fast and as hard as he ever had. The pain was still there. It burned like fire, coursing through his veins in a fierce assault of all that was combustible in him: bewildering, weakening. He pushed it forcefully into a corner of his mind. He knew it wasn’t his pain.

  Silar reacted quickly, starting after Morghiad. “Men!” He did not check to see if they had followed his command. There was no time. Both men were over six foot and, although he could match Morghiad in height, he had never matched him in stride or speed. He catapulted himself down the arched corridors. At this pace there was no point in softening one’s feet; the sound of his footfalls seemed to thunder between the rough-hewn blocks, making the place even more oppressive and weighty than it typically was. The castle had always seemed to him an elaborate, yet damp, cave. It was full of unyielding turns and mismatched lumps of rock. Here and there, braver rays of light dared to touch the basalt walls. The rest shied away, choosing to illuminate the surrounding town instead. Even that appeared unnecessarily dim at the surface. Often he wondered why he had ever chosen to stay in such a place.

  He could hear Morghiad sprinting ahead, but the sound was fading by the second. He was rapidly losing ground. By his best guess they were headed to the royal and guest quarters or the gardens below. The extent of either area meant that one could spend an entire day searching for a single person. He had to keep up. The men were behind him; maybe five or so had managed to follow this far. Silar shouted out to Morghiad. That blasted kahr needed his help! No reply came. Silar was now sure there was nothing wrong with Morghiad. His reaction could only mean that Artemi was in danger.

  Morghiad had an odd sort of compass in his head for that woman. Silar had seen it once or twice before, when the kahr had started off in a seemingly random direction looking for her. They had stridden purposefully through the streets, reaching three dead ends where Morghiad seemed eager to go through the obstructing houses. Then there had been the embarrassment upon reaching her, discovering that they were on the wrong street level. Morghiad had evidently detected that she was close but was unable to sense if she was above or below them. The kahr gave away nothing in his classically stoic face. But Silar remembered the amusement in Artemi’s smile when they had finally arrived. She must have felt their mistake.

  She had looked especially handsome that day, with hair the colour of old gold and fire that streamed over her shoulders and the curve of her breasts, almost to her waist. Her eyes were deep-set, dark and warm. Her skin was pale, almost translucent but flushed in her cheeks. The soft light of the lower streets had been sufficient to pick out her strong jaw and delicate cheekbones. She was not a tall woman, broad or particularly imposing, especially not in the green scarves of a benay-gosa. But she was the queen.

  He could no longer hear Morghiad’s steps over his own. The corridor opened into three hungry mouths. To carry on running down the wrong corridor could slow him by minutes. He stopped to listen.

  “Left fork, men!”

  Silar set his pace again. At the next intersection he would have to gamble on Morghiad’s direction. Chance was no good to him when there was nothing to tilt it. He called out for the kahr a second time. Nothing. This must be bad. How seriously had she been hurt? Perhaps the king had discovered her secret, though that was unlikely. Silar’s network knew more than the king’s own spies and even they weren’t aware of it. A very fine gift from his late mother, that network had been. Along with her teachings – she had picked a few skills up as an agent herself – until she’d fallen in love with her quarry. Even the wittiest of us are victims of our hearts, she’d often tell him with a grin. Yet I am both foolish and a victim, he reflected.

  The bare, grey walls gave way to plain pictures of characters in history, and most were war leaders, generals or hunters. Silar and Morghiad had spent an afternoon trying to find Artemi among them, quite unsuccessfully. The paintings were exclusively male, likely by request of the king. That man didn’t seem to like women much. Heavy, dark-oak doors punctuated the regularly spaced portraits. A bed-maker peered nervously out of one of them, meaning that Silar was on the right trail. The floors here were irregularly covered with geometric wool rugs of the local style, and soon the historical war portraits gave way to long-forgotten royalty. Ahead lay another junction. Soft carpets to the right; descending stone steps to the left. He shouted for Morghiad once more, stopping to listen for a clue as to his whereabouts. His patience was rewarded by a distant woman’s yelp and a crash of metal dishes. “That’ll have to do,” he muttered, and followed the sound along the carpeted corridor.

  He pursued another league of darkened likenesses and scenic landscapes. The faces became more recognisable as he pushed forward. The carpets gave way to marble and the hallway opened out nearly twenty feet in width. The ceiling ascended from a heavy arch into sprawling vaults. To one side a wide-eyed serving lady hurried to clean up her dinnerware. These were the guest quarters, typically filled with brown-nosing nobles and spoiled, royal children from across the borders. It still seemed like a cave to Silar, just a slightly larger one, populated with wealthier vermin. His earlier pause had given the men time to catch up. Three of them had made it through the catacomb-like passageways. Silar signalled them to hurry, still tearing down the hall. He rounded a corner to find Morghiad hurling his weight at one of the heavy doors. The kahr did not stop to acknowledge Silar. His expression was determined, his mind focused only on the task in hand. His black hair dripped with sweat from the exertion; his shirt clung to his back. Those green eyes glittered with something... different. Silar and Morghiad synchronised their drive at the door without a word. Cadra’s army training had been very effective. The frame began to crack and splinter.

  One more.

&
nbsp; Stocky Beodrin, an improbably fast soldier, joined the battering ram for another push. The door gave out a wistful moan and, before it had completed its descent to the travertine floor, Morghiad had stepped onto the centre panel, leapt and came to land in the middle of the room beyond. In an extension of this motion his sword arced left and he moved immediately to his right, twisting his shoulders.

  Silar fell into the room with the others. Instantly he froze, for he knew the outcome of the scene progressing before him. His role in this was finished. Morghiad, still moving, turned his blade to perform a slide-cross and proceeded to deliver it with deadly precision upon his opponent. The recipient made no sound. His arms were out straight, reaching down. Clasped in his hands was the neck of a pale, red-haired woman. As bright red blood sprayed outwards from the man’s throat, Artemi fell from his grip, hair swirling upwards into the air around her.

  Silar’s legs weakened. He struggled to inhale. His only thought at that moment was what the sight reminded him of. It was oddly reminiscent, he pondered, of throwing a pitch log on the fire and watching as the newly agitated flames blossomed around the sides.

  Chapter 1

  The fourteenth day of the ninth month, 3210 P.D.

  It was a fine day in Cadra, the heavily built-up capital city of Calidell. Some have described it as a feast day layer cake of green limestone houses and streets. In the very richest areas there were only two levels, in the poorest there were six. The streets curved between these levels with bronze guardrails skirting the sides and channels for rain driving clear blood down to the ground.