The Mystics Of Valenthia

16. The Past: Flammantis

One could feel the tension in Freya's office. It was illuminated and looked like as cheerful place as any, except the dark expressions on the faces of everyone present there. Ferdinand paced up and down, after all that is what he used to do when he was nervous.

Nova, Bex and Eva were tensed, their pulse beating too fast. Carter stared out of the window. He was not fidgeting at all. He seemed as still as water.

"I take it that the girl is in the room, locked?" Freya asked, her voice like a bullet, shattering the glass of silence.

"Yes, I made sure of that," Ferdinand answered her, continuing with his pacing.

"That's good. She must stay out of this as much as possible," Freya said, looking pointedly at Nova, Bex and Eva.

"Is it true?" Nova asked. She looked down at her hands not meeting Freya's gaze.

Freya knew what she was asking. It was an incredible notion. No one would have thought it to be possible. Who would have? Fifteen years is a good amount of time, isn't it? But there was no doubt about that, was there? It all made sense. Those flaming red hair that she had hated; glittering green eyes. Unforgettable. Yet, it was not just the appearance that convinced her. Appearances can be deceptive. It was the way she talked, her voice dripping with confidence and determination. The fire in her eyes, burning bright. Her powers. Everything about her reminded Freya of them. Mostly him. She had hated her. Of course, she had. She couldn't deny it. But it was him that she had loved. And Florentyna was, undeniably, a part of him. And her, she reminded herself, bitterly.

"Of course, it is."

Carter had been silently gawking at the window but now his eyes met that of Nova's and everyone else in the room. It had seemed that he was not interested in the conversation, but he was alert.

"I have seen it myself, haven't I? No other Mystic can do what she did and you all know it. It is impossible to summon the Flame of the Dragonix for any other Mystic except.....," he trailed off not wanting to say it.

He had known it deep inside. The hatred had flared up the moment he had set his eyes on her at the Dining Hall. But what had happened to that hatred? Why was it fading away? Dissipating? He couldn't bear the turmoil of conflicting emotions inside him. He was supposed to hate her, wasn't he? It was after all in his blood to do so.

"Except the Flammantis? Yeah, sure," Ferdinand said brusquely.

"So..." Eva gulped and tried again. "So, Renna is one of the Flammantis?"

"Not one of the Flammantis, Eva. She is the only Flammantis alive," Bex said, a bit unsure herself. "They all died in the...the Battle, didn't they?"

"Yes. Yes, they did," Freya said.

She closed her eyes as she remembered the bloodshed, the massacre. She was trying to be by his side; trying to protect him, watching his back. Even after all what had taken place.

"What really happened that night? We don't even know the story as a whole! They say you were one of the Circle, weren't you?" Nova asked.

"Yes, I was," Freya said, her voice fragile. "Ferdinand, will you?"

She knew that if she told them, she would break down and she had to stay strong.

Ferdinand looked at her with slight hesitation before beginning.

"It started when we were teenagers like you, or rather it had started a thousand years ago.

When Valenthia was created, it was originally created by Drakon. His power, as many put it, was almost invincible. The power of Fire. He created Valenthia as a place of rest after his conquests (whatever they were). Soon he created life in Valenthia, and transformed it into a beautiful place. That is how the Valen evolved. He decided to give a part of his powers to the bravest. He soon found that person to be a young boy. He had no name. The Drakon named him Flamma and his descendants were the Flammantis. The Drakon trained him in war. He excelled and was blessed by the Drakon.