Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

One

It has been eleven harrowing years since the war—since the mighty army commanded by the ruler of Sora, the flame king, mercilessly torrefied Maragnus. Eleven years that very king had been absent from his throne, vanishing one night only to never return. Eleven years since the prince refused the throne and too disappeared into the night. Eleven years since the once illustrious and passionate kingdom of fire spiralled far into poverty.

Lukas Zelth's arms throbbed as he heaved another partially torn crate down into the cellar behind the pub. The weak stairs crackled, daring Lukas to take just one heavy step and tumble into the dark and damp room. He sighed, throwing the crate onto a bench before wiping the sweat bleeding from his forehead. Bottles shifted, some breaking. Weak material. The stench of cheap and zesty ale fluttered around Lukas's nose. He gagged in retort.

He whistled a feeble tune down the corridor indicating his task completion. A stronger melody reverberated through the walls in response. Why bother tearing your vocal cords down this endless cellar when you can simply whistle? Lukas took a last glance at the stacks of crates and puddles of grime on the floor before trotting back up the stairs.

Stocking products for the popular Soran pub had been Lukas's job for years now. An endless cycle of basking in filth and bringing in more dirty drinks and stale food for the louts and drunkards. Not that a 17-year-old peasant could acquire a better job. The luscious and fancy aristocrats parade around their gloriously large castle, indulging in fine foods and exotic wines whilst the others fester in the streets where rules are no longer valid for there is no king to enforce it.

He cringed as the back alleyway closed in, entirely populated by homeless scum that hissed and gurgled as you passed as if some rabid beast. "Go back to hell, ye defect child," a hunched over woman croaked. Her face horrifically crinkled and aged. Lukas awkwardly ran his shaky hands through his jet-black hair, mimicking the moonlight sky now emerging from the afternoon sun. His skin glimmered a deathly pale under the calm light. Defect child. He did not possess the traits of a mighty flame elf. No tan skin or oak hair. No raging fire magic. Just a child the gods abandoned or punished, as some seem to believe.

The tattered door creaked as Lukas cautiously pushed it backwards. Sparking lantern in hand, only slightly illuminating the small room. Whether he stayed on the streets, in his own home or even at the tavern, the conditions remain. Sora, the fierce kingdom of fire now reduced to this. Lukas boiled at the thought of his king. How could this coward abandon his kingdom and leave his people to rot? He led a ferocious army of knights to scorch Maragnus down and they succeeded. Everyone worshipped him. Why vanish?

Lukas glanced at the shattered mirror beside a nightstand, his golden eyes gleaming. The only thing he had to appreciate. The only Soran part of him. The echoes of his mother's melodic humming still danced through the room, bouncing off the walls like an unstoppable rhythm. He lifted his wrist and observed the onyx bracelet glued to it. The only item left of his mother's. So dangerous to be striding along the criminal infested streets with such a priceless jewel, but he couldn't just leave the precious memory of his only parent locked away.

Tomorrow Lukas would finally leave the town he once called home. He would slip out at dawn and embrace the amber forest canopies. He would appease to the constant longing of being free. To be strong for his mother. To just feel alive. Just once more.

~~~

Glistening white spots shifted and sparkled as Lukas's weightless body drifted through the cloud-like abyss. His mind free of thoughts, just empty. A glimmer of light auburn hair fluttered closer to him. Golden eyes even more striking than his own. Finally, a face formed onto the blank body before him. Cheeks specked with rosy pink and tan freckles. A smile so kind and inviting. Large, round eyes so warm and nurturing. Naedeen Zelth, Lukas's mother, drifted towards him.

"My little Lukas. My warrior," she whispered in that same melodic tune. Her voice had always been more so singing then speaking. Never gruff. Never angry. Always cheery and comforting.

Lukas extended his darkness-filled arm to her, furiously reaching for her grasp again. Just to bask in her motherly embrace. To feel that same child-like safety and contentment. His mouth contorted, desperately attempting to express the words bundled in his mind. Every feeling rushed to him at once.

"Oh, Lukas." Her words jumbled and slurred as if blabbering multiple things at once. Only one phrase remained consistent. Clearer than the rest. "My warrior. My warrior."

The speck filled void boomed with flashing colours and almost formed memories, it seemed. Unhuman gurgles and shrieks pierced his ears, shattering them like glass. His mother twitched and shifted with the unnatural sounds. Lukas convulsed and flailed his airy arms, swiping at the abyss in a panic. Darkness charged towards him, enveloping his sporadic body. Air slithered out his throat, suffocating him. A blanket of nothing. Just darkness.

~~~

Lukas jerked awake, sending a pile of soft amber leaves into the air. Some catching on the light breeze and flying through the vibrant forest, their surfaces sparkling under the dawn sun. He sucked in sharp breaths as he gathered his thoughts. Another dream.

Lukas ruffled his midnight hair before stretching out his arms and legs. The cracking of bones a sweet release after a full night slumbering on the flat earthly ground. A shimmer of gold hovered in the skies, dipping, catching the wind and soaring upwards. Bracing the world with unyielding freedom. The firebird chattered as it rounded a large, spiralled tree. Gods, if only Lukas could possess such a sense of freedom.

The crystalline stream burst with bubbles of fresh water, the invigorating scent beckoning Lukas to lounge in it. He inhaled and sighed calmly before dipping his pale and bony body into the river. A jolt of ice cold shocked his body, almost sparking an adrenaline rush if it weren't for his melancholic mind. So many years he shut himself off from feeling. If he even so allowed a tiny hint of anything to force its way into his head then he would surely break down and be taken by that dark tunnel that consumed him once. He couldn't go back. Not to that time. Not to when he lost the person so dear to his heart.

Orange scaled salamanders dived into the stream, smoke sizzling up into the sky. Water flicked and bounced as they tumbled and entwined with each other. Something itched at him. A memory, perhaps. Something distant, prying to break free. It seemed Lukas had also shut out memories from the past, painful ones. Every now and then, they slipped away from the hidden memory bank and pushed themselves to the surface, begging him to remember. Begging him to fall to his knees and feel everything at once.

Lukas shook his head and jumped out from the freezing stream. He threw on a torn shirt dusted with overuse and a cheap pair of leather pants he swiped from a drunken merchant before he slipped out of Sora. It will be okay. Be strong, my warrior, was what his mother would say. She'd squeeze him tight and stroke his hair as she hummed a simple tune. He gazed across the amber forest. From the dull orange oak to the light brown dirt. He can do this. He will do this. Lukas tied a small punch of silver to his waist and trotted off towards the blood kingdom.