~The Market~ pg 13

Civyl had worried that he wouldn’t be able to leave Fiora behind, but whatever tether had kept him next to her before did not interfere with his journey with the old woman. He told himself it was likely because he whole-heartedly intended to come back to her. 

Nivia took the lead and rode in silence, which suited Civyl just fine except the old woman took the journey much slower than he would have liked. Half a day’s ride at her pace couldn’t be all that far. Except they didn’t stop when the sun was straight over their heads and when it started falling below the looming mountain horizon Civyl began to worry. His stomach was loudly grumbling for a meal before they finally stopped at a door built into the foothills of Enundale.   

They dismounted and knocked only to have no one answer. “He must not be in,” Nivia observed. Civyl was ready to give her a sarcastic reply when his stomach rumbled loud enough for her to hear it. “It is past the supper tick, isn’t it?” she asked. “Let’s have a fire and eat something while we wait. He will see the smoke. He will come.”

Civyl felt a new twinge of anger that he had to let Nivia wake the fire, but once it was crackling in his vision, his worries started to fade away. He was here to lift the curse. Here so he could once again dance with the flames. The fire seemed to know and danced excitedly. Even Nivia seemed entranced by the beautiful display. 

The sky had darkened to evening colors before a deep voice startled them to attention. “Who do you bring to my hollow, Nivia, to have the waking fire dance in jubilance on my doorstep?”

Civyl turned toward the voice but didn’t see anyone in the light of the flame. Not until he moved, that is. His skin was as dark as shadow and his clothing black as soot. Even his eyes were a smoky grey. But there was more to his presence than the sight of him. He carried with him an energy that seemed to absorb the very light around him causing him to fade from vision whenever he stood still.

Nivia stood and bowed to the man. Civyl decided to do the same. She kept herself respectfully lowered when she answered him. “He is a chosen of the flame, Master Akasha.”

The End

0 comments about this story Feed