Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 6

The houses and streets fell behind with the world expanding into endless, sweeping hills and green dales. The grasslands of Asillia - home territory. They were as familiar to the princes as the palace halls. No maps were needed this close to the city. They rode west, their direction matching the sun's slow passage through the sky. Malithas warned that their journey would be long with entertainment sure to be scarce. Regardless of his mentor's sentiment, Dathion found the interlude peaceful. Palace life was organized, structured, and predictable. Riding the plains of Asillia in silence, Dathion found more relaxation than all but sleep provided.

West was safe. Dathion knew the legends of what lay in the east. Settlements in that direction were rare. The Shining City was a bastion to protect the lands and people of the kingdom but its reach was not limitless. Asillian vigilance never wavered, with squads patrolling the plains under the light of both sun and moon. Due to their constancy, the constant stream of riders were given a name by other peoples and races - the Asillian Wall. They always rode north to the base of the closest mountains, then back to the palace, intercepting anything and anyone crossing from the east. The Asillian Wall paraded a never-ending line of bright, steel lances, their fluttering banners proudly proclaiming the identity of the true lords of the plains.

The eastern reaches lay beyond view and out of mind. Brave villagers sometimes risked settling closer to the edge of Asillian lands. Mostly they found the location safe. Beyond this border, the plains fell away into lower regions of sucking swamps and dead trees, or graveyards of jagged rocks and shale. Past the mires, war-blasted terrain stood pockmarked, with dust and fractured boulders strewn at the sites of the most notable battles of the past. The cliffs edging the rise to the Asillian plateau formed a natural defensive border, advantageous against any eastern invasion. Farther north, an impassable mountain spine completed Asillia's natural defenses. Finally, the southern edge of their lands eventually gave way to sandy beaches and the Great Southern Waters, an ocean that stirred no wanderlust in the men who loved their home.

The rest of the world lay to the west. In the direction of sunsets dwelt the other races; from the desert dwelling Palians, to the enigmatic Elves of the forests, the monastic Masan monks of the mountains, and the courageous Cerdic barbarians of the northern peaks. Dathion wanted to meet them all. This missive from his father offered an opportunity to do just that.

The steeds of Asillia made the world small. The powerful beasts quickly traversed the lands in long, loping strides. It took less than a dozen sunrises to ride the breadth of Asillia, though it took far longer for other races; for none rode mounts as magnificent as those of Asillia, and no Asillian horse matched Asheron. By his regal bearing, Dathion suspected even Asheron himself knew this to be true.

Cool morning surrendered to the heat of the day, which in turn was consumed by the creeping chill of night. The pattern played out continuously in the summer months. The constancy of the Asillian climate was legendary, with visitors from the other towns and cities often commenting on the phenomenon. The four seasons rarely changed from year to year, giving certainty to the farmers for the timing of crops, and to the astronomers responsible for predicting the weather.

Dathion felt unsure what to expect during his first evening outdoors. When the light had begun to fade, Malithas and Salidon called the party to a halt, selecting a small stand of trees for their camp. They came well prepared, with a number of bags strapped across their saddles containing practical supplies. Their assembly of a makeshift camp resembled a military exercise rather than a simple case of selecting where to sleep.

Malithas and Salidon collected wood, then lit a fire, to both enhance the flavor of their food and ward off the cold. They erected crude tents using short poles and hessian, mainly as a barrier to biting insects, but also for shelter from the night winds and morning dew. Conversation was kept to a minimum. There were more footsteps than words.