Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Prologue (Part 1)

One score and two lunar eclipses into Sultan Ratoul Al'Jediah's reign. Winter solstice - the Palian desert.

A sandstorm lashed the men, deafening them with its howl. They struggled onward, their foreheads buried in the crooks of their arms, while free hands pressed cloth masks tightly to their faces. A rope tethered one man to the next, pulling taut then falling slack as they moved. The closer they ventured to their destination, the harder the desert fought their steps.

But these were no ordinary men. Curved swords swung at their hips, swaying against legs corded with hard muscle. They were Storm Dancers, the ultimate practitioners of Palian combat arts. Undaunted, they challenged the shifting sand and buffeting gale.

Sultan Ratoul was among the fourteen men who walked the dunes that day. Two sunrises prior, Palian scouts had discovered a mystery, a site unearthed by the designs of the desert. The sultans of Palia investigated every such discovery within their borders. Ratoul knew his people whispered rumors, speculating on what he sought. His secret tormented him alone just as it had his fathers before him.

Tarnil, chief of the Sultan's personal guard, tugged at Ratoul's arm to halt his steps. The two men pulled their masks down from their mouths. Their words warred with the wailing wind.

"I do not like it, Ratoul. The heavens warn us from this place!"

"I too sense it, but we must discover why we are unwelcome."

Tarnil shook his head gently and gestured to the swirling sand that soared around them.

"Not all secrets are meant to be known, nor should every answer be sought. In a handful of sunsets the desert may reclaim this site. If the gods truly wished to bring you here, then why do the skies oppose you?"

Ratoul smiled, extending a gauze-wrapped hand to clasp Tarnil's shoulder.

"I do not fear what lies in the darkness, Brother, for I have you to watch over me."

"Me," Tarnil laughed, "or a dozen of Palia's finest fighters?"

Tarnil swept his hand before the men, who remained calm and alert, despite the tempest engulfing them. Ratoul flashed Tarnil a roguish grin then leaned into the wind once more. Unfurled in his wake, his robe snapped and flailed, dancing with sand taking flight in the gale.

Before long, they crested a rise and Tarnil jerked twice on his rope. The group halted. Tarnil dangled a slowly spinning lodestone from a leather loop, while his men swigged water from camel skins.

"We must be close. My stone never lies."

"Yes, Tarnil, I trust your judgment. Our will is greater than that of this place. Let the tempest tire and we will see what has been hidden from us."

"Agreed, My Lord, the desert winds are fickle. They too must pause for breath."

As though Tarnil's words held power, the gusts soon relented and sand mostly cleared from the air, the obfuscating cloud receding to a dusty, golden haze.

"Tarnil, how can peril befall me here? Even the elements heed your words."

Ratoul laughed then kissed the tips of his fingers. He blew on them then opened his hand to present his palm to the sun. After he whispered words none could distinguish, he curled his hand over his eyes to scan the valley below.

Their path had been true. Two imposing, granite monoliths, each the height of a dozen men, towered from the desert floor. Sinking between them lay a void, a black descent to a nameless place. Tarnil waved his men forward. They spread out around the Sultan, then descended from the dune.