Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Twenty-Nine

There is two days left in Heht before the potion wears off. The initial plan was to meet Arvin, gather some weapons supplies and plan the next action. So far, they have achieved half of that with a few minor setbacks, if encountering a ravenous leviathan is considered a minor setback. Lukas settled into the slimy lounge chair, sprawling his limbs out and resting his head against the coral back. Yevvi scurried out of the bland waiting room some time ago to speak with who he needed. Arvin paced back and forth restlessly.

After they had evaded the leviathan, Lukas practically sprinted into his little room and shrouded his body with a cool sea blanket. He wanted to shake the image of Sull's mutilated body, and eventually it faded. Those flashing pale hands, however, glued to his memory like an unshakeable dream. It seemed unreal like that, like a dream. Yet, he was sure he saw her; she spoke to him. Lukas contemplated theories of her existence. First, she was a figure of his imagination. An imaginary support to his mind that was slowly delving into the depths of insanity. Then, she was a goddess. A great power from above sent to look after Lukas. He'd like to think his mother sent her. But, she couldn't be a goddess. Not in a realm so desolate and menacing.

Lukas's mind switched to his king. His felt so wrong, like he were but a stranger now. He pictured his earlier build, large and bulky; then his later build, scrawny and eyes shaded by darkness. Atop his head that gleaming golden crown with the single calcite jewel, dragon's blood his mother called it. Lukas faintly recalled the days Andel was passionate and wonderful, like a grand idol everyone wished to be of service to. His mind fell back to his dreams of him, evil and forceful. His mind swirled, breaking the lines between dream and reality until none could be deciphered. Some days he wondered if he was even real.

Yevvi fluttered into the waiting room, casually chatting to a small woman at his side. She held her hands in front of her, her shoulders pulled back and her face turning away every time she giggled. Thick strands of hair, or whatever you call slightly floating strings of something down here, fell onto her side glittering a baby blue. Hair had been sparse in Heht; he had only seen the shiny tops of heads until now.

"Lukas," Yevvi coughed, signalling him over, "This is Iral. She is training to be a blacksmith here and a mighty handy one at that!" She blushed, retreating her head into her side and chuckling softly.

Lukas nodded, half in thought, and mumbled his introduction. He still had yet to find the correct way to introduce himself. They had made their way to the blacksmith early in the morning to create some weapons fit for their journey, whatever that might be. Luckily, another group of miners and guards scouted the cave they were in, watching for the vicious beast and collecting a fine amount of diamond. Lukas had frantically insisted they used whatever material they had left over in order to avoid such a grim demise, however they pushed that Lukas had a sword crafted from his own mind. He never understood the importance of a warrior's weapon.

Lukas had passed a small rushed ceremony in the central part of the kingdom for Sull. Crowds were large, gathering around a sculpture of symbols unknown to Lukas. It seemed each kingdom had their own ancient language. Stupid of Lukas to believe otherwise. It was simple evolution of different races. Some kept their posture unwavering as they rested their eyes upon the small inscription; others tumbled to the ground weeping desperately. Sull had thrown himself at the leviathan just to save Lukas. Had he known of his origins as well?

"Well, Lukas. Do you have any specific alterations for your sword?" Iral bounced over, her voice sweet and sprightly. She must be younger than Lukas, fifteen perhaps.