Zarkalor
Member
|
Discussion and feedback.
Please note, the entire story is of my own canon. It does not tie directly into Artix Entertainment's games, but it it set there. Things in my story change and alter from Artix Entertainment canon. I'm bending some facts to my own will, so if things seem confusing (as in, something happened here that didn't happen in DF) then this is what this disclaimer is for. Enjoy.
The Pyromancer Woes
Part 1- First Spark
My eyelids fluttered open, and I was greeted by a strange array of blurred lights and people crowding around my small body. I'm uncertain why, but I was very upset. Perhaps the shock, or the surprise, that I could see. I began to sob and big fat tears rolled down my face. The blurred sights began to become clearer and clearer. I could see I was in some sort of wooden hut, with a straw ceiling. My vision was still a little blurred, though. Probably because of the tears. I heard muffled voices chattering around me...who were these people? I could see an exasperated woman, with long dark hair. She was smiling with tears in her eyes, like me. Except I wasn't smiling. I was just wailing. Near the sweating woman was a man with a patch of a beard, looking proud and happy. The third person in the hut was a young woman in green robes, her hands glowing with some sort of white aura. She looked down at me a few times, and then her hands stopped pulsing with energy. She turned to the man and the other woman and began to speak. I could hear a little clearer now, but I couldn't understand the words...unfamiliar to my small, new mind.
"It's a boy, and with magic blood. I suppose you want to raise him as a mage?" asked the woman in green.
"Yes...yes...sorry if I sound distracted I'm just so...so..." the man begun, but did not continue. He was struggling to form words.
"Have you thought of a name?" the woman in green asked them again.
"Of course," smiled the tired woman. "Castem. Castem...Zarken. Yes, Castem Zarken Balor. Castem, after his grandfather. Zarken, after that archangel in the stories..." the woman spoke softly.
"I hope you two make great parents. I need to go now, so sorry...someone's screaming. I really wish moglins lived here...but no, we have to use human healers..." ranted the woman in green before leaving.
I was left with the two other people, and I had stopped wailing. I was just looking up at them in curiosity. They smiled down fondly at me.
Castem was running around the green field, laughing as his younger brother attempted to chase him. While the brother wasn't the best runner, Castem was quite quick, so the game was fair in no ways at all, but it was still good fun. The brother's twin -their sister- was sitting in a patch of bright green grass a while away, reading a book, keeping to herself.
Ardens could be fun-loving on occasions, but oh, how she adored to read. She read more than any of them- even Castem, who's supposed to be reading many spellbooks at this age of ten, if he wanted to become a mage. Then again, she wants to be the town librarian. Which is a good idea, considering the town lacks one at the moment. A library? Yes, they've got that. But a competent librarian? Haven't had one for years.
Castem's brother, Batillus, however, was like him. They both loved to explore the surrounding forests and mountains of our town, we liked going through the tunnels and caves, splashing in the water near the docks, and going to the Guardian Tower to chat with the Guardians. They would be going down to the Tower today, with a bunch of other children they age. Even Ardens would be coming. She liked Guardian Calidae- he was nice to her.
The Guardians would always invite the young generation of the town for little trips to the Tower, to learn more about the village's history and the Tower situated there. Calidae had told the children they'd be seeing something special today.
The siblings arrived at the tower with seven other wide-eyed children, eager to see what the special thing was. Guardian Calidae greeted them with his arms outstretched in welcome.
"Greetings, young ones! Welcome, yet again, to our cozy Tower. Have your parents all agreed to your coming here?" he said loudly, but with a warm and gentle tone, one you'd hear from a caring grandfather or uncle.
They all nodded simultaneously. They wouldn't miss this chance for the world.
"Alright, then! Well, if you could all follow me?"
They did what he asked, and followed him through the Tower until he got to a steel door. He removed his ornate golden helmet and placed it in a small little space sunken in the door. The helmet glowed with red energy, and the door slid open. The children gasped in delight as thick steam flowed through the door. There was a pathway of stairs leading downwards, and Calidae led the way down. The children had begun to chatter and giggle quickly like overexcited birds.
They reached the foot of the stairs, and were greeted by a long, long wall. A steel door-similar to the one above- was planted in the wall, and on the left side of the door, was an incredibly long, flat piece of stone that spread across most of the wall. The flat stone was divided into thousands of small squares, and in each square was a small symbol carved in. Symbols included animals, weapons, runes and a vast collection of miscellaneous pictures. While the rest of the children were all chattering excitedly among themselves, Castem watched as Calidae paced around the room, tapping six squares one by one. As he tapped the squares, they glowed green for a brief second, and then went back to normal. Castem watched him tap a snake-like symbol, a burning knife, a rune shaped like the number five, another rune, a skeletal horse and what looked a lot like a potato carved in the stone. As he touched the final symbol- the potato- the door opened and issued steam, like the one before. The burning smell of smoke reached our nostrils and they all coughed a bit.
Calidae walked through the door and the children followed in his stead. The dark corridor they were walking through began to get brighter with a faint orange light in the distance. They reached the end of the corridor and passed through an open doorway and they were in a circular room, covered in an orange blanket of light. It was hot in this room, smoke was in the air, and the children coughed again. In the center of the room was a tall, black, marble pedestal. Small carvings of runes ran down the side of it. Atop it was a long white cloth, covering something. Calidae stepped forward and lifted the cloth into the air. The room got brighter as they all saw a glass like orb filled with the hottest fire in the world in front of our awing faces. Ardens made a squeaky little squeal.
"That...that's the Fire Orb!"
"Correct, Miss Balor! This is indeed the one and only Fire Orb. For those of you that do not know, allow me to explain what it is exactly.
You see, thousands of years ago, there was an Elemental War. The elements were out of balance, our ancestors fought long and hard against them, and finally, the Avatars of the Elemental Planes stepped forth and made peace with the Lorians. The Elemental Planes were put back into balance, and eight Guardian Generals- each representing one element, took one of the eight Elemental Orbs as a gift from the Avatars. Using these great and mighty gifts, we were to use them to hold peace in the world. One of the Generals from our own village received the Orb and brought it here. Working together, our ancestors built the Guardian Tower around the Orb- to protect it. We had created the Tower of Flame.
"For thousands of years now, we have been guarding this Orb. But a few of the other Orbs are falling into the wrong hands...the Tower of Sun fell years ago...the Tower of Bask fell only recently. From what we know, the Ice Orb is still there in the ruins...but with no Tower to protect it, I don't know for how long. Many of the Orbs are still in good safety, for that I am happy. But when two Towers have fallen, the six others are bound to worry."
"Um...sorry, sir, but you didn't explain what the Fire Orb is, exactly." interrupted a short girl around two years younger than Castem.
"I didn't? How terribly silly of me. Of course, the Orbs were gifts from the Avatars themselves, were they not? So they were obviously magical weapons of mass power. They are-in short, embodiments of the Elemental Planes themselves. They give the holder extreme power of the Orb's element. We use the Orbs in times of need. Any more questions?"
Batillus raised his arm. "Can we touch it?"
"No!" bellowed Calidae in a voice that was rarely used. The children all gawped at him. He looked a little embarrassed. "Hem...um...sorry. But you can't. For your safety,"
"Our safety?" Castem asked, confused.
"Yes, your safety. We put a curse on it, you see," they all gawped at him yet again.
"A curse?!" they all questioned him in disbelief.
"Yes, a curse...we made it so that anyone who touches the Orb in an attempt of theft will be doomed to a most terrible fate. Guardians can touch it, because we use it to defend ourselves. We can't trust anyone else, though." he explained.
"So...if we touch it, we die on the spot?" a boy my age asked.
"Goodness, no. That would take a lot of Dark Magic. No, what this curse does, is decrease the luck factors around the thief. So things will turn out bad for them. For example, if I was a thief, and I attempted to steal the Orb, then the unluck factors on myself would go skyrocketing. I might step on a loose stone and fall down into an abyss, I might get myself locked in and be trapped in here forever, or I might leave this Tower, leave this village, and just as I'm about to sell this on the market, I could get murdered by a man I might've made fun of in the past. You see now?"
But not a lot of people were listening, they were eyeing the door, worried it would lock them in forever as Calidae had said. He seemed to read their minds as he chuckled.
"The only known person to ever get locked into the vault was Guardian Valorus, so it's safe to say the Earth Orb is safe for a while."
"Guardian? I thought Guardians could touch the Orb?" Ardens piped in.
"Oh, well, they didn't use a Curse on their Orb. They have different ways of defending it, as do the other Towers. But what he got was pure unluck. Poor fool...Any more questions?"
"If you touch the Orb, how long will it be before the Curse works against you?" Castem asked.
"Well, it can depend really, on the situation. But you always end up with a terrible fate after touching it. That's just how it goes. So you wouldn't be able to live your life without something terrible happening to you. The Curse isn't fair, nice, or even good-hearted, but it's to make sure the Orb doesn't fall into the wrong hands. I'll take one more question."
"Well...if someone does take the Orb, and if it all depends on when they get unlucky, then they could have it for ages, right? Well, once they do finally get their comeuppance, how do the Guardians retrieve the Orb? What if the thief hid it before they died? What if they fell down a cliff or into an abyss carrying the Orb? What happens then?" Ardens asked.
Calidae stared at her. He began to say something, but then stopped. He was thinking. He opened his mouth...then shut it again.
"Nobody's...ever really thought about that." he said, sounding like a naughty schoolboy.
Ardens raised her eyebrows. "Ah..." she said, and Castem could tell she lost some respect in Calidae when he said that sentence.
"I suppose we ask for a new one?" he said, but uncertain himself. "Um...I guess we should leave now. Thank-you all for coming! Sorry, but I have to go...um...talk with the Guardians about a matter that needs urgent talking about." he said, guiding us out of the chamber, obviously off to tell all the other Guardians what Ardens had said and what they were going to do about it.
Castem's siblings went home after our visit in the Tower, while he just took a stroll around town. The climate here was always very hot, and almost everyone here was tanned one way or another, and this village was a regular hot spot for tourists to enjoy a nice vacation. He now knew why it's been called the national summer village this whole time. He understood now that the heat came from the Fire Orb...or maybe not. He wasn't not sure. Maybe the Fire Orb was housed here because the heat was here already. He wasn't certain, but it was a fair guess.
He passed the old tavern and spotted an elderly man sitting on a bench, over-viewing a beautiful park. He sat down next to him.
"Hi, Eldnask," Castem said politely. The old frosty mage in bright blue robes turned his wrinkled face to me and smiled.
"Castem...wonderful to see you. Haven't you just been to the Guardian Tower? I heard they'd be telling you about the Fire Orb today. Of course, I never saw it. Hmph."
Eldnask was the only Cryomancer who lived in the village. He wasn't born here, but a large city in the Northlands, near Frostvale. He came here as a young adult, and has been living here ever since. He never gained a tan, and never got on well with anybody else in the village. Nobody knew why he stayed here, but he just did. Maybe he liked the warmth. Maybe he just liked being somewhere other than home.
Eldnask had always tried to get Castem to study Ice Magic and try and expand his magic circle of the elements. But Castem never could make an ice shard. He could make a small lightning bolt, he could push the air, but the best thing he could really do was create a spark of flame. It wasn't really the best fireball, but he could handle fire better than any other element. In no way was he a natural with the element. But it's just easier to create.
He soon began to notice that Eldnask was eyeing a group of men and women in crimson robes. His eyes were undisguised with disgust.
"Eldnask? Eldnask, what is it? Who are they?"
"Hmph. Pyromancers, no doubt. They come here every year. You haven't noticed them? Why d'ya think they hold a 'best young mage' contest every summer? To get recruits, that's what! They come to this village every year, hold a small contest, see who's the best at making fires, then ask if they want to be a Pyromancer. Most say yes. At least four of those Pyromancers over there once came from this village, and were recruited like many after them. The Pyromancer Order has a dark history, but they've become respectable with everyone over the years. But I don't forget." he added with a bitter tone.
"Forget? Forget what? What did they do?" he asked him, curious to know how bad these scarlet-robed mages could be.
"Well...um...it's not important."
"What is it, Eldnask?"
He sighed. "Pyromancers always get the best marks at the Academy. No matter how hard I tried in all my examinations, that cheeky little flamin' weirdo always beat me. Hmph. Pyromancers, all the same. Fools in reality, yet teacher's pets in class."
Castem stared at him. He didn't know Eldnask could be so petty. But he wasn't surprised. All mages were like that in the end. Vain, petty, snobbish...they weren't the best kind of people. Some of them were good people, (people Castem strive to be) but most were not.
His interest now lingered on the contest. He couldn't ever become a Pyromancer, my little "flames" were never strong enough. But this contest might help him adapt in becoming a better mage. He decided on it at last, that he would enter that contest. He might make a fool of himself, but heck, what's a little embarrassment compared to gained knowledge?
"Is there a prize other than an offer to be a Pyromancer, Eldnask?"
"Eh. Not sure. I'm pretty sure it's some fancy staff. Yeah, that's it. I remember. The prize is a twin of the staff that tall Pyromancer is holding now. I turned to look at the tall Pyromancer. He was holding a dark, long rod, with a brilliantly shining red gem stone atop, with some sort of phoenix rune carved in the stone. He stared at it. He now had another reason to enter, other than to become a better mage.
Three days later, he found myself in a sandy, circular pit, surrounded by a ring of wooden boxes. The day after I had heard about the contest, I had entered. The next day, I had practiced, but didn't improve much in my skills. Now...it was my turn to try out in the contest, with little knowledge of what to do and what element to use.
Then I remembered. This contest was held by Pyromancers. They're going to want to see fire. But you don't want to be a Pyromancer said a small voice at the back of my head I agreed with. But then I thought; But I want to win.
I went with my instincts, and snapped my fingers. Nothing. I snapped them again. A flicker of a flame lit in my palm. It wasn't enough.
I tried to remember what I'd studied in the past and succeeded...to make a flame grow...just...concentrate. I did my best, and sure enough it grew into a nicely-sized flame. I hurled the fire at a box, and it set alight. I heard cheering in the crowds above, and I saw the Pyromancers writing on paper. I'd done something impressive.
I lit my palm again, and repeated the process. After a few boxes burnt, I began to light fireballs with relative ease, they weren't that hard to make now. After a few minutes, all the boxes around me were burnt. I smiled. Then I frowned. What if I wasn't meant to burn them?
I turned to the Pyromancer Judges in the crowd, and they were smiling. No...I did it right. I smiled once more.
After a break, the second part of the contest began. I learnt what I was meant to do this time. I was supposed to stay in a room that decreases in temperature as time passes for ten minutes using only my fire to heat me up. Now this, I wasn't sure I could do. But then, a thought came to mind. Why were these tasks fire-related? What about young mages that were more skilled in another element?
I tried to remember the other contestants. Then, sure enough, I remember that each one had chosen fire as their primary element. I sighed a relief...at least no contestant was in threat of freezing to death. But then I began to panic again. What if these contestants were better than me?
My turn came, and I entered the freezing room. It was agony as I breathed in the abysmally cold air. My breath was a thick cloud of white steam, and I was shivering like hell. The room was completely white, with icicles hanging from the ceiling. I tried to ignite a flame in my palm, but my hand was shaking. I couldn't do it. I tried to make a flame again. Still couldn't do it. I tried something new...I tried to raise my body temperature.
Nothing happened.
I was stressing out by now...the door was locked...I couldn't heat myself up, and I was getting colder and colder.
A few minutes passed, and I was drowsy with the cold. I'm not even sure minutes passed...it could have merely been seconds...but it felt like hours...but my body could take no more. I fell to my knees, and slipped into the dark realm of unconscious dreaming.
I awoke in the main resting area again. They had pulled me out of the room once I had collapsed, and let me rest here for now. I didn't do so well in that task. But this was the final task now, and I just had to do well in it.
The Pyromancers guided us into a circular area like the first one, just not covered in sand, and there were no boxes. The crowd was cheering as we came inside, and the Pyromancers told us what to do.
"Just try and create your best flame. Practice on the pile of logs if you wish." the woman explained while pointing at a pile of logs.
We all were chattering excitedly among each other, boasting of how we would all produce the better flame. The head Pyromancer with the long black goatee raised his hand and we all became quiet.
"You may begin."
On his command, we all summoned flames into our palms. The eldest of the girls produced a large, long flame, and the second-youngest child produced a spark, looking disappointed. I couldn't make a flame at all. The girl was smiling gleefully with her flame, but then the eldest boy made a flame that was equal to hers in size. They both tried to make their flames better than the other, while I concentrated on actually creating one. All that ice had extinguished my magic...I'd need time before I could create another flame. I concentrated on the pile of logs. Just burn...just make a small burn...just burn...
Sweat dripped from my brow as I concentrated harder and harder on making a flame. And then, it happened.
The pile of logs exploded in a large blazing inferno of fire and smoke, and the crowd screamed in shock. I stumbled back in surprise, myself. The logs fell down from the sky in burnt, ashen-covered remains, and a large fire flickered where they once rested.
The Pyromancer judges just stared. And then, they clapped. And clapped louder. I couldn't take it in. What had happened? First minute I'm trying to make a fireball, the next I blow up a pile of logs. The ridiculousness of it all was just over the top. But the rest of the crowd had begun to clap, and so had the other contestants, even though there was obvious bitterness in their faces. I just got up, and smiled widely at them all. And then, the voice at the back of my head spoke You are a Pyromancer. There's no turning back now.
The voice was right. I was a Pyromancer. And soon enough, the Pyromancers would want me to be one. The strange thing was, I was kind of liking the idea of joining them. I knew I would never exceed in the other elements, so why not train in the one I can actually do? It made perfect sense when I thought about it...but I wasn't sure what would happen if I did agree to become one.
And sure enough, the head Pyromancer came over to me and sat next to me.
"Hmm...Castem, isn't it? Castem Balor? That was a very impressive Demolition. Did you know how to do it?" he asked in his raspy voice. His breath smelled like soot.
"No, sir. I was just trying to create a fireball. Then I wanted to set the logs on fire."
"But still, if you could manage to do that at such a young age, you could do great things in the future..."
"You want me to join the Pyromancer Order, don't you?"
The man stared at him. "Yes, actually. Well?"
I thought about it again. Just do it...
"Yes. I would like to join the Order." I finally decided.
The man broke into a great and wide smile. "Excellent! Do you want to talk to your parents about it first?"
"Please." I said quickly.
"Yes, I can understand that wish. You'll be leaving home, if you are to join us, I'm afraid. You won't be seeing them for a while."
I gulped. This is what I wanted to do. I'd see them some day, wouldn't I?
I nodded at the Pyromancer and made my way home to tell them.
A week later, I found myself walking across the mountains with a large group of Pyromancers. We had been travelling for five days now. I left home two days after the contest. My parents were proud, but also saddened I was to leave. But they, knowing the tradition of the Pyromancers, understood nevertheless. My mother just asked me to promise I'd be safe. I told her I would be. Although I'm not sure if I can hold true to that promise...the world was not a safe place, after all.
My back and feet ached from the walking...I had nearly tripped many times already. I stopped to take a drink, and then continued walking with the rest of the group. Most of the Pyromancers were adults, although there were a few young recruits, like me, who had just been recruited, like me, but from different, neighboring villages.
I caught up with a short boy with messy brown hair. He looked tired, more so than I. He had been recruited before me, so he'd obviously been travelling across the mountains for longer.
"Hey," he said breathlessly.
"Hi," I replied in turn.
"I'm Nasse. Nasse Berve. You?"
"Castem Balor." I told him.
"You have a second name?" he asked.
"Um...I suppose so? Why do you ask?" It was a strange question, after all.
"I don't have a second name. Always wanted one, though."
"Ah, well, It's Zarken."
"Zarken, eh? Hmm...Zarken...Balor...Zark...Balor...Zark...Alor...Zarkalor. Pretty catchy, no?"
"Not really," I admitted.
"No? Oh. Seems kinda catchy to me. Ah well. You don't mind if I call you Zark, do you?"
I tilted my head. What a strange boy...but he was likable.
"I don't mind." I said, smiling.
He returned the smile, and took a drink from his flask.
The Pyromancers stopped, and the Head one smiled. "We're here." he announced.
We were at the foot of a massive mountain. When I looked at it clearer, I saw that it was no mountain at all, but a volcano. Massive clouds of smoke billowed from the tip.
"Welcome, to Smoke Mountain. Home to the Pyromancer Order. I warn you, these will be some hard years ahead of you."
I grinned. My life as a Pyromancer had begun.
< Message edited by Zarkalor -- 10/4/2011 12:41:15 >
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
