Fernan VI: That Human
The intensity of the auras was nearly blinding. Reflexively, Fernan squinted slightly at the sight, but of course it made no difference.
Dozens and dozens of blinding lights were standing or floating or slithering across the snowy crater, as varied in color as shape. Many of them left a melted trail behind them where they went, auras even brighter than the rest. The other flame spirits.
After what had unfolded the day darkness had fallen, the mountaintop was practically unrecognizable, so cold it was almost black. There were craters everywhere, not just the largest they were assembled in, but massive chunks taken out of most of the surrounding mountains. Piles of rubble strewn about as the hillside had collapsed and slid. The dust had cleared from the air, at least, from time and snowfall, but traces floated into the air where the snow cover was too disturbed.
Aurelian Lumière had taken on the power of the sun for only minutes, fighting against a single man, and still he had wrought this much destruction. His predecessor, Soleil, had been ready to burn down half the city because the people who lived there didn’t respect his authority.
There was no doubt he would have been capable of it.
And now one of these spirits will replace them, inheriting that power and inhumanity alike.
Gézarde’s body was pressed against the edge of the crater, tail wrapped behind him. “Fernan of Villechart, you arrive at last.” The voice sounding off the cold dirt echoed more faintly than usual, less powerful outside its domain. “It seems you must have deceived me, for there are far too many gathered here. It appears as if the true convocation is upon us, despite your lies through truth.”
“Well, it isn’t.” Fernan frowned. “Come on, we talked about this.”
“We discussed cultivating allies from a select group of spirits, chosen carefully.” His aura faded slowly between green and orange. “More spirits are here than could even fit in my den, in the event I graced them as their host.”
“And who do you think we select that group from? We have to converse and listen, above all. Hear their grievances, and present yourself as the solution.” Camille’s advice, verbatim. I can’t believe I almost didn’t tell her the plan. Gézarde wouldn’t even be here right now.
“A solution demands a problem.”
“What?”
“To present myself this way requires something in the way of malady or misfortune. Perhaps malair. You have, it seems, neglected a factor of key importance.”
“You can’t see the problem here?” Fernan hissed. “Even if we don’t freeze under Glaciel, we’ll probably starve soon after. The entire world is in ruin for want of a sun. You are the solution to that problem. A new sun spirit, without ties to their existing order. Nothing like Soleil. Do I really need to go over this again?”
With a flash of red, Gézarde whipped his tail out behind him. “The failure to prepare is yours. Reflect on it as we return.”
“As we…” He’s scared, Fernan realized with a start. He hasn’t seen any spirits in decades, and here’s almost a full convocation he has to impress. And yet he’d had no such trepidation in sending his children out to devour people in droves.
But then, we’re nothing to them but insects. That seemed to be the sentiment with most, at least. What Camille had said about Levian, how to talk to him, what to expect, it certainly didn’t present a flattering image. And Soleil…
Gézarde wasn’t there yet, honestly, but he had to be closer than any of the rest. He’d been cheated and wounded by humanity, so he could recognize their strength. Uncomfortable as it was, that meant recognizing a kind of worth in turn. And I gave everything back, which has to mean a lot, too. Mara certainly seemed to think she was winning him over, at least.
Perhaps it would fail, but if the ideas — that respect for humanity — could be acknowledged in their own right, that was a kind of victory too.
And frankly, Gézarde has nothing to lose by trying. Whatever these spirits’ opinion of him at the end of all this, he’d have no need to see them again. Returning to his isolation seemed inevitable even in victory, especially given the way he was acting now, but his ties to his children would keep him tethered to the people in a way Soleil clearly never had been.
“We’re not leaving yet,” Fernan said softly. Listen to what they want, and show them how your plan gives them that. That had been Camille’s advice for the spirits… “According to Laura, her spirit demands loyalty. Patronage. Succeed or fail, you need to show strength and aptitude here if you want all these spirits to leave you alone. Otherwise they might think you’re too weak to be worth any consideration. This is the only way to be sure no one can impose anything down on you, at least as far as I see it.”
“Perhaps.” His glow faded slowly back to its normal green.
“Anyway, you’re already here. People have seen you. Leaving without saying anything would make you look worse than never coming at all.” Fernan turned around, starting to walk away. “Camille gave me some useful names,” he said over his shoulder. “Soft targets, in her words.”
“The promise of a human… The reliability of that has certainly been proven.” Still, the spirit followed.
Fernan approached the large, birdlike spirit that Camille had told him was called Corva. A spirit of the wind, she was the patron to someone Camille had sought out as an ally, someone who might be amenable to hearing them out, with any luck.
Next to her was an aura without a fixed shape, constantly burning and crackling with flaming tongues of sharp blue lightning in roughly the shape of an open book.
“Great Spirit Corva, Keeper of the Winds, I am honored to stand before you tonight.”
The bird tilted her dark head, leaving a pale trail behind her as she adjusted her position. “No doubt you are…” The wind whistled here in a voluminous screech. “Who is your patron, human?”
“By the deal we made, I draw my power from Gézarde, Flame of the Mountain and Father of Geckos.”
Corva stared into him silently for a moment, as if considering something, then turned back to the incorporeal figure next to her.
“Wait! Hold on. Camille Leclaire, High Priestess of Levian, recommended that I speak with you. We have something important we wish to discuss.”
The wind spirit turned back, looking above Fernan’s head at Gézarde. “Does your human do all your speaking for you, Flame of the Mountain?”
In response, Gézarde stepped back, starting to edge away. This idea was doomed from the start, wasn’t it?
“The Flame of the Mountain speaks when he chooses to, and not before.” Technically true here, which was important given the company. “He doesn’t enjoy his time being wasted.” Who would, really? And if saying that implies something else, well, it’s not a falsehood.
“I sense weakness in your patron, human. I think I could eat you and he would not have the courage to respond. Oh, and the taste… It is not often that I have the opportunity to consume humans who’ve braised themselves over so long a time as you have.” An unsettling purring sound emanated from the air, coming from no particular direction.
What the fuck was I thinking? Why did I ever consider that this was a good idea? How did Camille supporting it so readily not send up any flares?
The crackling flame next to her grew brighter in intensity, briefly louder before abruptly going silent as the wind carried its sound out of reach.
Corva’s aura pulsed briefly to a dull gray, halfway between the white of the wind and the dark of its body. “However, I must take care to remember that all of us once came to our first convocation, facing spirits far older and powerful than us, yet unsure of how best to speak with them. We welcome you here, Gézarde, and your human as well.”
“You have my thanks,” Gézarde said, finally. “I am pleased to meet so esteemed a spirit in person.”
The condensed lightning crackled again, this time the sound ringing out across the crater without interruption.
“My companion reminds me. You are that human who witnessed Soleil’s demise, are you not? Aurelian… something… Bougitte?”
“Sire Fernan Montaigne, Great Corva.” Wait, companion. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, to you and your companion.” Don’t ask who anyone is, you can’t remind them of your ignorance. Another lesson from Camille, though it was hard to be sure it was really the better choice here.
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The fire pulsed once more, its aura tinting slightly green as two trails of flame separated themselves at the front, streaming upwards.
“Fala is pleased to meet you as well, Sire Fernan. You were, perhaps, witness to an event of great importance to us.”
“Well, I hope I can help, then. I must admit, I didn’t see the moment Soleil passed, only the aftermath, and the failure of the one who tried to take his power.”
“Two humans fought, did they not? The usurper and the binder?”
“Yes.”
“And the binder, he wielded a gauntlet that kept him in the air?”
“He did.” What does it matter to you?
Slowly, the wind pulsed out from the spirit, then gradually flowed back in. Back and forth it went, for long enough that Fernan was beginning to contemplate breaking the silence.
Fortunately, he was spared the need to when Fala sparked. It almost sounded like it was saying “you” before the words were snatched from the wind.
“The reason for its value to me is beside the point. My wind and my storm were slain, and only that gauntlet remained. I would like it returned to me. I could not locate it in that stone house your people live in.”
Fernan rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t say where it is for sure. I think it fell into the chasm when it was knocked off Magnifico, though I suppose it’s not impossible that someone found it after. Aren’t there spirits here who could probably find it with magic? I’m not familiar with everyone here, but—”
“They would want something for it in return. In any case, had it been simply tossed out into the open air, I would have found it myself. No, one of you humans took it and I demand it back. You miserable insects couldn’t even content yourself with killing him, you had to desecrate him further, bind him into one of your tools. And when I make the simple request of laying him properly to rest, you—”
Fala’s aura pulsed white as it relayed another message to her, this time kept entirely silent as Corva snatched it from the air.
“...until next time, human. If you can find what I seek, my gratitude will be considerable.”
“Understood.” Fernan backed away as fast as he could politely manage, Gézarde leading the way.
They passed a younger boy with dark hair over his eyes and similar aura to Corva, but sages could be met with later. This was about spirits.
At the center of the crater was Flammare, the spirit of the hearth that Laura served. His aura glowed brighter than any of the other flame spirits, though not so hot as Soleil. A creature of twisted metal bars, he resembled a man in shape, though instead of arms his metal rods stretched across massive wings of flame. In the center of his chest, it appeared, a metal box contained a heat even stronger, a brighter spot on his already-bright body.
According to Laura, he was the obvious choice as the next sun, known for decades as Soleil’s heir as Arbiter of Light, in part because of their close friendship.
Like minds, with like consequences. Flammare ascending would be far better than Glaciel succeeding, but so too was it far from the ideal. If Gézarde could be presented right, a compromise between extremes, then maybe--
“To all assembled here tonight with me, the true inheritors of Terramonde, I call upon you now to heed my words.” Flammare’s voice rang out from his body, steel clanging against itself in sonorous discord. “To those who know me not, however few, I am Flammare, the Guardian of the Gold, the Champion of the Hearth and all within, first claimant to be Arbiter of Light, should all the spirits here respect my claim. But first we must address our purpose here, a gathering so soon after the last.”
The other spirits had stopped talking, turning to orient themselves towards Flammare.
“We are assembled here to make a choice, to try to find the one who could replace the great Soleil, a spirit without peer. That he, so strong, has met his end so soon, is tragedy beyond mere happenstance. I ask you how one such as he could die, at human hands, no less, without our help. We, who have failed to learn from our mistakes, and left the sun to his burden alone.
“For long millenia we did respect each other’s claims to our domains and left ourselves to tend to our affairs alone. ‘Let not again the surface of our earth be claimed by only one of us,’ we said, those few of us who saw the world begin. And so this promise served us well for years, a pact before the spirit of the earth that none could dominate all of its land, not stray nor venture from their proper place. To all you spirits great and lesser both, alike in recognition of our roles, do not forget the order of the earth, nor what would follow for those fool enough to think that they’d survive defying it.”
That… Ugh. The words could have come right out of Soleil’s mouth. Well, if Soleil had talked through his mouth, anyway. Boxing everyone into positions like that is part of what led to this in the first place. If the sun spirit had just left well enough alone, if Lumière hadn’t feared so much for what would happen to Aubaine if he didn’t act… Not that that absolved him of anything, but still.
“Not long ago, each spirit here was called upon to once again renew that vow, or swear it for the first, were they too young. All spirits wise and true could see the threat that Khali posed, not only to ourselves, but to the very earth where we reside, the spirit Terramonde beneath the dirt. And they, those horrid curs who stood with her, were banished just the same to Khali’s world. Their ruination is instructive, here, at least to those of you with any sense.
“Fair Terramonde must face again this threat, at risk of losing all that lights its way, assaulted by a spirit no less vile than she from whom the world was saved last time. ‘Queen’ Glaciel’s an insult to the earth, a scourge upon our dignity and grace, who lays with humans and conspires with them, who may indeed have killed our fair Soleil, whichever human hands performed the deed.”
Fernan stifled a gasp. He thinks Glaciel was part of that? She wasn’t even here yet! And yet Camille’s words returned, the emphasis on strength, of presenting truths and possibilities to lead people and spirits to your desired ends… So how does it benefit him to imply that? There was nothing to do but listen.
“She threatens now to keep the world in black, to spread her cold until naught else remains. And all she needs to meet her aims is us. Should we continue as we have before, fragmented and dispersed, domains apart, I do expect she will succeed at that.
“Pantera the Undying thought herself above the reach of anyone at all, yet she did not last even fifty years beyond the time of Khali’s banishment. Soleil, may he find peace in Terramonde, could not with all his power stop his death. Even the best of us alone can fail, and so many of you are not the best. Even Soleil was no impediment; how could we hope for, any one of us, success where he did fail so thoroughly?
“She counts on our respect to hold us back, retreating from the growth of her domain. I say we must instead contest her aims, and raze her motley court to ash and bone, so nothing of her works remain to tempt the fools who’d seek to follow in her wake. Our firm respect for Khali saved her life, yet it did not deter ‘Queen’ Glaciel. Instead, it only took one hundred years and eighteen more for her to leave her place, and move against all spirits of this world. We cannot let our mercy block our way. This selfish, human-loving filth must die, and all abominations from her blood, lest she inspire others down the line.”
Fists clenched tightly, Fernan strained to control the blazing flame streaming from his eyes. A spirit finally wants to step up and help, and their idea for it is exterminating an entire nation. In a way it was fitting, really.
“The sooner I ascend to Soleil’s seat, the less ‘Queen’ Glaciel’s domain can grow, the safer all of us will be from her, and any human pawns she points our way. I do respect the need to choose with care, and bid you all to take the time you need. But tarry not too long in your choosing, lest evil’’s icy grip subsume us all. Three cycles of Lunette, I think, suffice, considering the nature of the seat.”
And there it was, the perfect cap to such a horrifying call to action. I’m not sure we could survive three more weeks like this, let alone three months. Flammare, it seemed, was content to let humanity starve, then mop up what was left under Glaciel’s authority.
“Take heed of all that’s been declared tonight. Let all who have the wisdom choose what’s right.” Flammare spread his wings, propelling himself from the ground as they blasted flame beneath them. “All spirits of the light and flame, to me. We have important matters to discuss.” He alighted back down near the edge of the crater, far enough away to be out of earshot of most other spirits. Or, far enough if they’d been human. Corva, at a minimum, could probably listen in, and who knew how many others were capable of it?
More importantly, how many are capable of standing up to that. How many would even want to.
Fernan grabbed Gézarde’s claw and pulled him forwards. I have to hear what he has to say. It would probably just mean hearing about even more calamities to prepare for, even more assertions of how certain he was to succeed. But, depressing as it was, that information was important. Everyone opens themselves to danger when they speak, but it’s true a hundredfold for even the weakest spirit, Camille had said, and Fernan could only hope she was right.
As the flame spirits assembled, Fernan recognized several, like the spirit of flashing glass panes of multicolored light that Yves had served back at the sun temple, or the pulsing Fala he’d met earlier that night, but most were unknown. At a glance, Gézarde didn’t seem to recognize any of them. Has he met any spirits, come to think of it? This plan was just falling apart more with every moment.
“Come hither Fala, now. I need a word.” Flammare beckoned him closer, staring down as the other spirit approached. “Are you an imbecile or merely mad? In crises, we must demonstrate our strength. And unity’s the greatest strength of all. The only realistic challenger to my ascension is Soleil’s daughter, along perhaps with foolish flame spirits who’d dare defy my rights as Soleil’s heir. If one did waver from my side in this, they’d be an enemy like Glaciel. And in this time, somehow you thought it wise to make your entrance in that black bird’s arms, a spirit of the wind and not of flame, and not unknown to Lunette’s company.”
This time, there was no Corva to meet Fala’s high-pitched response.
“Have you the slightest realization what your foolishness could cost me, and us all? In opposition to that wastrel wretch, she who consorts with lowly creatures and even creates abhorrent spawn with them, we must defend the natural way of things. Tis more important now than e’er before, and yet you thought it wise to test me here. If you are seen in Corva’s company again, you shall not long regret the act, for I will reunite you with the earth.” Flammare waved his hand through the ball of sparks and sent them flying off in different directions, dispersing Fala into thousands of wisps. Then he turned back to the rest. “I hope you all take my advice to heart. T’would be a shame if I were forced to show the rest of you the cost of such an act. We must, always, comport ourselves with care.” The other flame spirits awaited his next words with rapt attention. “And now, please go. Converse with other spirits if you must, but only to enshrine the strength of light. You would not fancy the alternative.”
Fernan didn’t have to drag Gézarde this time; clearly they both wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. They scrambled past the edge of sunken earth, over to the other side where the mountain’s steep slope led back down to the city.
Somehow, of course, Florette was down there climbing up, the sheath of her sword thumping each time it bounced off the rocks as it dangled from her from her waist. Next to her, a blob of purple slime slithered up the rocks, leaving a faint trail of warmth behind it.
She wedged her feet against the rocks well enough to free her hand, then gave him an enthusiastic wave.
Whatever she’s here for, she’s not going to like what happens next.