THE LIGHT OF A'LEST

CHAPTER 1

     Zander's mind unraveled as he ran up the cliffs. His thoughts were not unlike the stones beneath his feet. A scattered mess of tiny black things that ground against one another as he moved through them. He wanted to scream. To lash out. To strike something. Anything to keep his mind from replaying the scene of his mother's lifeless body as it burned on the pyre. Inevitably, some of those thoughts seeped through. Flashes of the amber flames lapping at her light brown hair. The sizzling sound her skin made. The scent of her flesh wafting through the heavy breeze. It was repulsive yet unsettlingly familiar. He did not know if he would ever eat again, but if he did, it would not be anytime soon. But what had unnerved him most was the joyous way the cone-like flames danced up his mother's legs as they engulfed her light blue dress. They seemed alive, something his mother was not.

     He'd remained silent as his mother's ashes filled the sky. His mind drifting over the scene in a dreamlike stupor. He didn't remember grinding his teeth or digging his fingernails into his palms so deep they bled, but the throbbing behind his eyes and the deep wounds on his hands told another story. The only thing he did remember was the profound sense of loss that overtook him as the flames washed over his mother in waves.

     He didn't realize he'd run, barely hearing the voices of the other attendees as he fled. Their hollow calls ricocheted off the wind and faded into echoes as he trudged up the cliffs. Inside, a tiny voice whispered to him, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not make it stop. So, he did the next sensible thing: he ran. Throwing himself at the steep rise, he cursed the gray clouds that meandered across the sky. Each one seemed to mock him with their indifference.

     As he climbed, a silent rain began falling in sheets, pooling into streams as it rushed down the steep incline and soaking his thin leather boots. Thankfully, as he crested the ridgeline, the rain slowed to a trickle, then stopped. Looking out over the ridge, he slumped to the ground on trembling knees and struggled to catch his breath. The unnatural sight before him usually brought him peace. A reminder that despite the predictable nature of life, some things were beyond explanation. So, he willed his mind at the wonder before him and resumed his search for its meaning.

     In the valley below, another inferno raged. The flames of Nedal were easily ten times the size of his mother's funeral fire, though this assumption was only an approximation. The purple flames that bordered on white at the edges were at least several hours' walk from the cliff where he sat. Nestled snugly into the center of the otherwise barren valley below. Unlike natural fires, these flames roiled with an unwavering intensity. An oddity that had consumed his thoughts for months. The irony that he had fled one fire for another was not lost on him. "One fire to the next, that's all life is," he muttered to himself begrudgingly as he sought out his breath.

     He lifted his eyes to the heavens and to the bright blue star that hung perpetually above, then followed the focused lens of shimmering light as it fell to the valley. Many legends surrounded the origins of the light of A'lest and the flames of Nedal. His people believed many things about the unnatural pair's origins, though the legends varied from culture to culture. Some believed Nedal was the source of all things evil. A primordial being who had once scoured the continent, devouring all it touched. To the south, in more refined places, people believed the sight to be a natural occurrence. No more enigmatic than the air they breathed or the gritty earth beneath their feet. Whatever the truth of it was, it was now widely believed to not matter that much. The flames that never went out and the star that refused to move had remained locked in their dance for as long as time had been recorded. While amazing at first, the sight had long lost its luster. Nine millennia had passed since the supposed ascension of A'lest, and if time had taught him anything, it was that the minds of men rarely remained idle for long.