The Never Ending War: Lost in the Flame

Chapter One

"Father, how far?" The stagecoach bumped again, jostling me in my seat. This old road used to be paved, but once the main free-ways had been built, the pavement had been removed. Now the dusty path was covered in rocks and potholes.

"Just another tranem, Kayra. I promise we'll be there soon." Father smiled back at me from the driver's seat. I returned to my book, allowing myself to get lost once again in the old pages of adventure. My current volume was an old book I had smuggled out of the library two months ago, a blue leather bound book covered in so much wear it was a miracle the thing hadn't fallen apart. I continued investing my time in the life of the main character, trying to pass the time between the car and the Embassy. Father's annual Board meeting had sprung upon us like annual cleaning, and I'd had to throw together luggage for the trip. My book collection was extensively small, and the story I was currently invested in was a story I'd read many times, but never quite grew satisfied with. As the stagecoach hit another pothole, I'd decided I'd had enough reading and slipped the tattered book inside my pack. Clutching my smooth leather bag to my side, I glanced out the tinted windows at the countryside whirring past. Plains filled with endless fields surrounded both sides of the road, leading into a vast expanse of golden grain. Occasionally, a harvesting machine would interrupt the quiet monotony, the loud rumbling from the machines reaching the coach. Father continued on, determined to reach the Embassy before noon. As the land around began to change, I started noticing things. A big rock here, a pond there. All landmarks I had jotted down on my map of West Perdido. After six years of traveling with my father to the Embassy, I had decided to make a map of West Perdido. Every time Father and I traveled to the southern city for the meeting, I added new landmarks to my map, hoping that my creation would one day be complete. I sketched a couple more landmarks I had missed on the last trip on my pad, trying my best to capture as much detail as I could in the three seconds it took to pass everything. The stagecoach began to slow down, and I felt the gradual transition from the dirt path to the cobbled roads of Cowen. The farmland began to disappear, being replaced with the market shops and homes of the locals. Our coach rolled past, drawing little attention from the people, though a few did look curiously as we passed. I perked up at the sight of my favorite antique book shop, spotting Mr. Ollie outside with his book cart. Rolling down my coach window, I let out a low Dalainian bird whistle. Mr. Ollie looked up and saw me, releasing his own Axvaeri call. Mr. Ollie was the owner of the book shop, and we had become good friends during my past visits. We had bonded over not only our love of books, but our fascination with animals and adventure. He had taught me every type of bird in West Perdido, along with their respective whistles. Now, whenever we passed each other, we would let out a random whistle, and the other would have to guess what it was. At first, I could only sing the song of the Ryc, and could never figure out what Ollie was whistling, but now I had no trouble recognizing any of the bird calls. I smiled at Ollie and whispered on the wind.

"Axvaeri call. Female." Mr. Ollie smiled back and nodded.

"Dalainian crowing. Hatchling." I returned the nod before sliding my window back up. The more lavish homes of Cowen were coming into view, meaning the Embassy, and my three-week long summer vacation, was approaching. I grabbed my pack from the seat beside me, double checking to make sure everything was in there. My luggage was stacked on top of the stagecoach, tied down to the safety bars. One of the footmen at the Embassy would be responsible for delivering it to my room. I heard the distinct croaking of metal and peered out the window to see the old iron gates of the Embassy slowly pulling open, revealing the lush courtyard and grounds of West Perdido's finest upper class lodge. Father drove through the round-a-bout in the courtyard and eased the stagecoach to a stop under the veranda. Three footmen came out and began to usher us out of the coach and into the Embassy. Father handed the keys to the coach to one footmen and gave our room locations to the others. Our luggage was taken down from the top of the coach and whisked away through the side doors. I hopped out of the coach with my bag in hand, heading for the grand foyer entry to the Embassy. A blast of cool air met me as I opened the door. Several people were lounging on the sofas stationed around the entry hall, tapping away quietly on their devices. I walked past them, ignoring the tap tap tap of keys, pushing through the old oak doors that led to the real heart of the Embassy.

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Hey guys! This story is another little piece of Evelon, and it will eventually tie into Infiltration. I have finished the first chapter, just to see who's interested in reading it!

Love, Nerdy🤓