The Path of Heroes - The Searing
As she straightened, she rubbed her back to work out the tightness. She twirling a red iris flower in her hand, inhaling its fragrance. A smile played across her lips as the fragrance brought a fond memory to mind.
It'd been late spring and Lauron had agreed to help the miller deliver some supplies to the Barradin Estate in the Green Hills. They were supposed to be gone five days, but the fifth day came and went, with no sign of them. She hadn't worried, knowing that Lauron was able to take care of himself.
He'd ridden in on the morning of the sixth day, grinning like a child who'd smuggled a handful of sugar candies before supper. He'd leaped off the wagon and swept her up off her feet, hardly containing his excitement. She'd laughed, caught up in his mood, asking him what had taken so long.
"Come and see," he'd said eagerly. Leading her around to the back of the wagon.
She'd been stunned, unable to speak at the sight of the wagon. It'd been filled with a layer of earth and there were hundreds of the flowers planted in it. She'd gasped and covered her mouth, trying to fight back the tears that came unbidden to her eyes.
"Sorry I'm late dear, but we choice care over haste," he'd whispered in her ear.
"You horrible man, look how you've damaged the poor things," she'd exclaimed, but her attempt at mock anger was lost on him as he'd roared in laughter and swept her into his arms and kissed her.
She'd chased him off, protesting that he smelled worse then the horses. As he'd left to wash up; she'd seen her father standing in the doorway, a knowing smile on his face. She'd learned later that the two of them had conspired together to bring the flowers. She'd spent the rest of that day planting them into her garden, refusing any help, telling them both that their butcher's hands had done enough damage all ready.
She sighed, as the memory played out in her mind. With a start she noticed that her hands had drifted down to her belly again, holding it protectively. She'd been doing that more and more lately. She would need to tell Lauron soon, she was sure now, it'd been almost a fortnight now.
She heard movement from the house and reality came marching up to the forefront of her mind, demanding her attention. Father had taken a turn for the worst the night before, and she'd exhausted her supply of healing herbs trying to ease his pain. He was waking now, and would need her.
Lauron had left in the early morning to train with the militia. After the grawl attack, Captain Devona had met with the townsfolk. She'd confirmed the rumors, that after hundreds of years of peace, the Charr had returned, and the Kingdom marched to war. She'd said that they should expect no more help from Ascalon. Her mission was to recruit every willing individual for the war effort.
She'd stayed for ten days; leaving on the last morning with a dozen fresh recruits for Ascalon. Markus had gone with them, he was to young to join the army, but Devona had promised that she would leave him in the care of a good friend of hers, who ran an orphanage in Ascalon. During her stay she convinced the town officials of the need for a local militia and had campaigned for Lauron to train and led it.
As Trina made her way back to the house, her gaze drifted north. They'd awakened this morning to find the northern sky filled with storm clouds, but these weren't any ordinary clouds. These had been streaked with a reddish hue, and were unsettling to behold. Since then, the sky had gotten worse.
The clouds had spread out in every direction, as far as the eye could see. A deep foreboding filled Trina as she looked west and east, and finally south. The sky was turning a blood red in every direction. Shaking off the frightening sensation that tried to rise up cling to her mind, she went back inside.
The thunder was what got her attention and probably saved their lives. It saved many lives that day, by simply causing people to look up and realize what was coming and giving them a few extra moments in which to find shelter.
Trina had left the door open to try to cool the house from the uncharacteristic heat and when she heard the boom of thunder, had come to close it, fearing rain. What she saw when she glanced outside chilled her heart.
The sky was a churning blood red and as she watched, she spotted lightening in the clouds. With every flash, she glimpsed fires burning and dancing in the clouds. As she stepped out and looked north, time seemed to stop. It was as if the hand of death had reached out and seized her by the throat, stealing her breath and freezing her in place. She stood and stared in terror, as the sky burned before her eyes.
To her, it seemed like she stood and watched for hours, as far in the north the world burned under the torrent of fire. Finally she managed to break her gaze away from the horror. She rushed back inside, trying to regain control of her voice, fighting the panic that was overwhelming her senses.
"Father! Wake up, father!" She shook him awake, praying that the potion she'd mixed him hadn't had time to take its full effect yet. Somehow the urgency or maybe the panic in her voice got his attention, and even though the fever burning through his body had taxed him almost beyond strength, he awoke with a start.
"What is it child," he rasped in a dry voice.
"Father, please, you must listen to me. Please don't argue, just listen." She pleaded with him as she helped him sit up and then started gathering up things that they would need.
"The sky is raining fire. Don't ask me how or why, just listen, we have to go," maybe it was his trust in her, or maybe it was the fever, but for some reason he didn't argue. She helped him rise groggily to his feet, but before they'd taken a step, they were both hurled to the ground as the world exploded in chaos and fire.
The sound was like a great downpour, but much fiercer than any storm had a right to be. It was as if logs rained down on the house. Trina screamed as the windows exploded with the fury of the attack. Her father yelled her name, unable to see her in the suddenly darkened room. The fever that raged through his body had crippled his all ready failing sight.
Trina recovered swiftly, overcoming the fear that pounded through her body with every beat of her heart. She scrambled to her fathers side and using her body as a crutch, helping him walk. As they stumbled out of the room the roof behind them collapsed.
With a great crash, it imploded into the floor and flames burst out everywhere. Smoke filled her vision, choking her and leaving her gasping for breath. The implosion pushed both of them to their knees. Trina strained under the weight of her father as she tried to find enough air to breath. It seemed that her chest was on fire, and with every ragged breath it burned more and more.
She didn't know how she managed it, or where she found the strength, but clawing and pulling, she managed to make it across the house to the cellar door. By this time the walls were awash in flames, and the roof was threatening to come down upon them.
Her body was covered in burns and her knees scrapped raw with the effort of dragging and pulling her father. She fumbled with the latch on the cellar door; her hands smeared with blood, she didn't remember how it'd gotten there. With a violent jerk she managed to free it and haul up the trap door. As she pulled her father up and took the first step down the earthen stairs into the darkness, her glance drifted to a nearby window. What she saw wrenched her heart and brought a gasping sob from her.
Through the window she saw her garden, and like everything else in sight, it burned. She watched as more flames fell from the sky, slowly but meticulously, devouring everything that hadn't yet been consumed by the flames. Just like the fever that burned through the man in her hands, the fire burned through the garden that his hands had built.
She still remembered the day, three years ago, when he'd turned over his life's work to her care. He'd spent the better part of his life cultivating the soil and gathering the different herbs for the garden. Now he was dying, slipping away in her arms and the greatest gift he'd ever given her, burned before her eyes.
The booming crack of a beam in the roof pulled her back to the task at hand, she took another staggered step down the stairs and stumbled.
As she fell into the darkness, flames filled her eyes, glistening and dancing in the tears that streamed down her face.
To be continued...
