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Lost Crimson (book 1)
Chapter 30: Wildfire

Chapter 30: Wildfire

Everything ached as Arin regained consciousness. She was lying on the forest ground. Blood and dry dirt stained her tongue and lips. Her skin was tight from the dry clay and a few blood splatters, she couldn’t feel her arms or legs. Arin opened her eyes, at first everything spun above her.

            She was on her back, facing the sky. The trees and clouds shielded her from the muddied sun. A cloak rested over her acting as some blanket. Under her bruised and swollen head was a stuffed bag. The first thing she noticed was a firm rope secured around her blistering wrists.

            Arin sat up, holding her forehead. An Other grunted next to her. Arin turned her attention to the three Others. Two were sitting on the ground, polishing their swords. Next to her was a young woman, fast asleep. Her face was bandaged in several places.

            She turned her attention back to the two Others. Both had their hoods down, it was almost a complete shock to find two human faces underneath those hoods.

            “Take it easy, Lost Crimson,” the first began. He sheathed his sword, “you’re sick.”

            “Sick?”

            “You have a fever.”

            “How can I trust that? How do I know you aren’t lying?”

            The two exchanged worried glances. The second sighed, “you need to rest so you are presentable to your new king.”

             She did feel weak. Arin shook her head, “why are we here? Why not at your fancy castle?”

            “For the love of Anolum, I already told you. Our mounts were too tired and could not support our weight in that escape. We plan on rendezvousing at a place near here. However, you two are too weak for walking so we dragged you into the woods.”

            “Which was a terrible idea!” the first grumbled, “this forest is dangerous during the spring!”

            “I know, I know. This was our only option.”

            “Why is it dangerous?” Arin questioned.

            The first Other stood up, pulling out a canteen. He walked past Arin, she watched him warily. He knelt by the creek next to her. She turned her attention back to the second Other. He cleared his throat, “wildfires are common in this part of the forest. Lightning often strikes trees here.”

            “Oh . . .”

            “Drink, Lost Crimson. You need to stay hydrated.”

            “Stop calling me that. I have a name.”

            “No. We will only call you by the name you were assigned.”

            Arin frowned, pulling the cloak around her shoulders with great struggle, finding a way to work through her bounds. She was cold, her knees knocked into each other. She tentatively accepted the filled canteen from him. Arin pressed her lips to the cold metal, guzzling the warm liquid.

            “You must sleep. You need be ready to meet your new king and home soon. We will wake you when he arrives.”

            “What if I don’t want to sleep?”

            “Go to sleep,” he barked.

            Arin sighed, settling down. Her head was burning now that she thought about it. As she drifted into a slumber she listened to the scraping of stones against metal. It was irritating, yet the even rhythm was enough to lull her asleep.

***

           Thunder woke her. The three Others were busy moving around her in panic. Arin moaned rubbing her eyes with her palms. The rope was still tied around her wrists. The sky continued to beat its drum, light flashed above her.

            “Get up. We need to seek shelter.”

            “What about meeting up with Croun?”

            The cloak was pulled away from her body. She shivered sitting up. One of the Others removed the wrist restraints from her body. He bundled the cloak into a ball before throwing it at her.

            “You are our prisoner, you do as we say. Now get up and put that on.” Arin sighed standing with little ease. She slipped the giant cloak over her short arms. It was way too big for her. The ropes were secured around her wrists again. She sighed as the cord rubbed against her blistering hands. While the Other went back to preparing for their departure, the injured one approached Arin, holding a long strand of rope. It was tied with a large loop at the end.

            “I will use this if I have to. Do I make myself clear? You will keep up with us.”

            Arin nodded, averting her eyes from the noose. From behind, an Other seized her arm, his hood covering his face. His identity was hidden once more. “We’re ready.”

            Thunder erupted from above. The trees began to bend and rattle in the growing tempest.

            “I don’t think holding me is necessary. I wouldn’t want to be run away and be alone in this weather in this dangerous forest.”

            The heavens began to dump cold water onto the land below. Heavy droplets soaked into her cloak. Arin pulled the hood over her head. In the growing darkness, an Other ignited his hand with a bright fire.

            “Follow me,” the Other with fire ordered, walking into the thin forest. Everyone followed, they stayed close to her side. The pitter patter of rain against leaves calmed her growing anxiety.

            Thunder rumbled above casting its fury to the ground. Arin flinched, ducking at the explosion. The Other continued to guide them, pushing large branches out of their way. Before long her cloak was drenched and water soaked her arms, the dry dirt rubbing off her skin.

            The Others began to lead Arin uphill as the storm raged violently overhead. Water rushed down the pine-covered slope, soaking her training boots, socks, and feet. Arin stepped on a thick patch of pine and slipped, falling in the mud.

            “For Dargon’s sake! Can you not be such a klutz?” the injured one grumbled, forcing Arin off the ground.

            Arin pulled her arm free before chasing after them. In the distance, she could hear a roar. Not like a dragon, not like the thunder, but it sounded like a monotonous purr. The Others stopped at the top of the hill, all of them equally soaked. The poor Other without his cloak was shaking.

            “Why did we stop?” Arin questioned. Lightning lit up the forest in an eerie white. There was no sign of any Other.

            “Someone is watching us. We continue with caution.”

            “It’s probably the Crimsons here to rescue me.”

            “Arin, there are things in Fynne that hate both Crimsons and Others and just about everything else. If it is one of those things I want you to understand that you will have to help us kill it.”

            “Oh, so not only can there be a wildfire but also man-eating beasts? Wonderful.”

            “We are almost at the rendezvous point.” Lightning lit the way. Only trees surrounded the four.

            Arin was pushed forward, the gesture telling her to start walking. They made their way down the slippery hill. The creek grew louder and louder as the current picked up.

            As she continued on, her body ached. Her head and cheeks burned. She was growing faint. Arin rubbed her aching throat. Pulling her hood back, she lifted her head to the sky. Arin opened her mouth, trying to catch a few drops of water.

            “Keep moving,” she growled, pushing Arin along. “We don’t have time for breaks.”

            “But I’m so thirsty,” Arin whined. She thought of the most mocking tone she could think of, “plus it would be a shame if I wasn’t in presentable conditions to your king.”

            “That’s it!” The Other pulled out the thick strand of rope. The four stopped. “This will shut you up, you arrogant Crimson rat.”

            The rope was secured over her first bound. Arin pulled against it, screaming in fury.

            “Let’s hurry, we’ll all be sick and cold if we don’t find Croun soon.”

            Arin squirmed in the irritating coil as she was dragged along. “I did nothing wrong you all are just overly sensitive.”

            “Ignore her, she’ll shut up soon.”

            Arin released an overdramatic sigh. “The Crimsons will find me! They’ll save me!”

            They all ignored her. Arin drew silent, she wanted to let her thoughts stray but could they read her mind as well?

            Can you guys read my mind? I know some of you can, but can you three? Silence followed. Arin continued to tug in resistance through the thick rain. Lightning continuously flashed overhead.

            The hike through the forest was long and dreadful. Mud squished under them, the cloaks were heavy. The clamor of rain was annoying and repetitive.

            The same monotonous purr sounded again, this time a little louder. Arin stopped, looking around the dark forest for what it may be. The Other tugged at her “leash” pulling her forward. In defiance Arin pulled back.

            “No, stop!” Arin cried. “Do you guys hear that?”

            “Don’t listen to her lies. She just wants attention.”

            “No! I’m serious! It sounds like an . . . engine or something!”

            “You hear it to? I thought I was going crazy!” The four stopped again. “I’ve been hearing some sort of grumble for a while now.”

            “What do we do?”

            “Lost Crimson, promise me that if a beast attacks us you will help fight with us.” Arin nodded quickly, heart racing. Would anyone be mad at her for helping them? “Untie her. For now we are allies.”

            The two ropes were loosened and removed from her wrists. The Others unsheathed their swords, a dagger was handed to Arin. “I’m not going to use my fire anymore. Lost Crimson, these trees are very flammable even when wet. You have to use this dagger for combat.”

            Lightning struck a tree nearby creating a bellowing crack. Thunder followed. Rain pounded against them. In the midst of the silence. Something swooped above them flying towards the lightning.

            “What was that?” one whispered.

            “No idea.”

            From where the lightning struck the tree over the next hill, the whirring appeared. This time it was a lot louder.

            “Let’s go make sure there isn’t a fire,” the first explained. “All of you stay close and be ready.”

            They advanced forward in their battle-ready stances. Arin’s heart was beating louder than the sky. The first Other climbed the hill, ducking behind a fallen tree. He waved for the three to join him.

            Arin made her way up the hill, careful not to step on any large branches. Her calves ached, all of this climbing felt awful. The four knelt behind the tree, peeking over the edge. Arin wiped the rain off of her face to see clearly.

            Some sort of massive owl was by the tree, pecking at the ground. It was the one causing the noise, it purred as it nipped at something. The bird must have been at least seven feet tall. Lightning flashed overhead, lighting up the teal creature.

            Arin ducked behind the tree panicking. That thing would probably kill them if they were noticed.

            “Can we go?” Arin pleaded. “It obviously isn’t a fire.”

            “Let’s wait to see if it leaves. That thing is probably hostile. But we can’t waste too much time waiting,” the Other snarled. She ducked behind the fallen tree as well. “We have to rendezvous with Croun. Lost Crimson is our priority.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

            They all hid behind the fallen tree. “He expects us to be at Fullgrace Hills. It isn’t far from here.”

            Lightning struck a tree behind them, embers flew but nothing ignited. They all held their breaths as the avian behind them screeched. It beat its heavy wings and everything grew quiet for a minute. Arin held her breath, the Other pulled her to her side, placing a hand over Arin’s mouth.

            The fallen tree shook as the owl landed on it above them. Arin squeezed her eyes shut, shaking violently. The owl jumped over them before approaching the lightning-struck tree. It pecked at the embers, creating the purring noise.

            Before the Others could stand another gigantic bird landed next to the owl. This one resembled a crane. The newcomer ruffled its red feathers before spreading its wings wide screeching.

            “They’re going to fight.” The owl revealed its long wings as well when, to everyone’s surprise, its feathers burst into a blue fire.

            Phoenixes?! Are you serious?!

            What if the Green Phoenix is here . . .?

            The heavy rain had no effect on the fire. Arin removed the hand from her mouth panicking. An Other seized her arm, dragging her away from the fight.

            She stumbled in the dark, wet forest. Behind her the phoenixes began to fight, fire flying forward. The needles at the phoenixes’ talons caught flame. Arin screamed. They only managed to run a few yards but already the phoenixes were causing chaos. The fire began to crawl around. The pine on the ground, despite the water, was consumed.

            “Fire!” Arin announced. Use this time to escape. If I did run where would I go? How far is that fort?

            The Others stopped, making sure she was right. When they saw the growing flames, they began to sprint. Arin chased after them, her body and lungs ached only a few steps into her escape.

            The fire was spreading faster than she could possibly imagine. It was like a contagious disease, weed after weed consumed in red. Arin slowed down, trying to catch her breath. The Others did not stop for her.

            They may be your enemy, but they are better than this fire. Arin began to jog again calling for them to stop. A vine of thorns tangled around her leg, pulling her to the ground. Arin released an anguished cry as she tugged at the vine. A few inches away was her dagger. She seized the sharp blade, trying to cut herself free. The fire crawled closer to her, incinerating the ground and tree trunks.

            “Guys!” Arin called out.

            “Lost Crimson!” an Other came back to her. “By the spirits! That fire is fast!” The Other knelt by her side, pulling the thorns away from her leg. “Can you walk?”

            “I think so.”

           Arin was hoisted to her feet being dragged along. The fire’s roar intensified as they made their escape; dodging trees and getting slapped by branched. Right now, they were safe, only the rain was a hazard. The flames grew behind them.

           Once Arin met the pace of the Other she was released. They continued to evade the roadblocks the trees provided. It was hard but Arin managed to follow the Other’s thin silhouette in front of her.

           An explosion erupted behind the two as a tree fell over. Thunder continued to roll overhead, rain clouded her vision. She wiped at her eyes trying to see clearly.

           Arin tripped again, this time she tumbled down a hill. During her fall the dagger was ejected from her grip. Branches gashed her cloak, some tore at her face and legs. As the slope evened out she stopped, lying on the ground motionless. Everything was so disoriented.

           She rested for an endless age, trying to catch her breath. Trying to regain her focus.

           Shed the cloak, it will only slow you down. Arin sat on her knees coughing as she slipped the cloak off her filthy and sore arms. She set it on the ground, looking around. Arin had no idea where she was. The glow of fire appeared all around her, the roar rang in her bleeding ears.

           Arin made her way uphill again, nothing around her seemed familiar. Fire cried above, limbs fell from burning trees.

            Just get out of the flames, it doesn’t matter where you are.

           Arin began to run, the blistering heat gnashed at her skin. It was painful, her body shook from fever and the cold heat. She continued her jog, avoiding crashing limbs from above. The rain hammered her face.

           There was no escape to this sea of red. She was going to perish. Her elemental power was worthless in this situation.

           Where do I go? What do I do? Someone help me!

           She stopped again, the air was thick with red smoke. Arin shook her head as she dashed through the forest once more; pushing a few branches out of her way. Tears began to dribble down her muddy face.

           Arin stopped by a steep hill, the border of the fire. Behind her Others called for her using that ridiculous codename. There were more than three now. Arin jumped, catching herself from tumbling down the slope. She scurried under a leaning tree, pressing herself against the wall of dirt and clay.

            “Find her!” Croun bellowed. Arin held her breath, was this a good time to hand herself over? As she gathered the courage to approach Croun he continued, “we must find her before that Crimson does.”

            A Crimson is here! Her spirits lifted, I have a chance at being saved!

            “Fan out, call using your horn when you find her.”

           Others leaped over the edge of the hill, landing in front of her. They made their way into the dark forest, free of fire. Her plan was to escape through the midnight section of the vast timberlands. Now with Others crawling around, it was far too dangerous.

           I have to find the Crimson.

           Arin waited for a few more minutes before fleeing from her hiding place. She followed the cliff edge, crouching low. The flames had not reached this side of the forest yet. Here on the border she would be safe. Would the Crimson find her here?

           A bellowing cry echoed through the roar of conflagration. Arin gasped turning to the charging Other.  

           Fire or Other? Fire or Other?

           Arin climbed up the small ledge entering the sea of flames again. The growing embers burned her legs. She had to find a way to control the inferno. Arin stopped on top of a rock. The fire raged around her, feasting on all life. Her pursuer halted in a small patch of safety as well, pulling his cloak close to him.

            “Come here, Lost Crimson!”

            Calm down and find a way to control the fire.

           Arin released a calm sigh. She aimed a hand at the fire, focusing on the dancing flame. It flickered for a moment but nothing happened.

            “You can’t control it so stop trying. I order for you to come here,” he snarled.

            “You don’t control me!”

           Arin focused on the fire again, trying to maintain her attention on the element. Once during training she was told that fire caused by other users could be controlled by her. She had to become one with it, like she was with her own. Arin didn’t understand what Kilin meant, even now it confuses her. Arin still had to try. The fire bent and waved, then stiffened. It was at her attention. Meanwhile the Other made his way to her. Arin raised her hand and the fire rose with her movement.

            “No way . . .”

           Arin aimed her hand at the Other, the flames rose creating a thick wall of orange and yellow. That should stop him for now.

            “No, Lost Crimson! Come here!”

           She turned, jogging deeper into the fire. The embers parted out of her way as she passed by.

           Orange smoke clogged the air. The trees revealed themselves in the red night. The sky tried to end the fire with its rain but the effort was futile. Sweat and rain mixed, her skin tingled as burns blossomed on it. Her training boots were singed.

           Keep running, find a way back.

           Running through the sea of fire was painful. Arin’s body swayed as she jogged, her pace gradually slowed. A tree nearby lit up in fire, blasting Arin’s face with intense heat. She screamed holding her burning cheek.

           I’m going to die, I’m going to die. The fire continued to blaze against her back, her legs, her face. It was too much for her.

           Arin began to crawl, the trees above were bare of the red roar. The ground was clean of embers as well. Arin coughed, she figured that she was suffocating.

            Keep moving, you’re almost safe!

           Arin staggered to her feet. Her legs dragged her body forward. Her vision dimmed, she was going to die.

            “Arin!” someone called. “Arin, say something!”

           She couldn’t recognize the voice. Did she want to risk it being an Other? Arin screamed, her voice was too dry for words.

            “Arin!” he cried out again.

           The ground around Arin began to catch fire. “Help!” she cried. “Please!”

            “Arin, I hear you!” She knew who it was now. It was Hawthorne!

            “Hawthorne!” Arin cried. A flaming limb collapsed in front of her, she screamed scurrying back. The fire nipped at her knees, burning them. Arin aimed her hands at the flames and they shrank away from her. “Hawthorne!”

           Arms wrapped around her from behind. Arin screamed, kicking at whoever it was. “Stop!” Hawthorne exclaimed.

            “Hurry place her on my back!” another said. His voice sounded familiar, but smoke clouded her mind.

            Arin was set on a mini dragon, head resting on his neck. Was it Scor?

Hawthorne made sure she was situated before they began to run. They weaved through the trees at an incredible speed. Arin wrapped her arms around his neck, hiding her face from the fire.

           Horns echoed in the fire. A burning branch fell in front of the group forcing him to stop.

            “It has Lost Crimson!” an Other announced. Hawthorne faced the six Others, they all revealed their weapons. Arin opened her eyes, watching Hawthorne face the Others.

            “You’ll have to kill me before you touch her, fiends!”

            “Should be easy. If we don’t the fire will,” one cackled.

            “Hawthorne,” Arin whispered. “Be careful.”

           Her avian friend unsheathed two long swords. Arin watched helpless as he moved in front of her.

           You have to control the fire again. Her vision flickered as she faded in and out of consciousness.

           The Others charged forward in unison, jabbing their swords at Hawthorne. It was like the midnight attack all over again. She could only watch her friend die. He managed to push them all back with a gust of wind.

           Arin sat up, chest tight. Hawthorne took a few steps back gasping for air. One of the Others blew into a horn, signaling for the rest to meet with him.

           They closed in on Hawthorne. He readied himself to continue fighting. Arin threw her left arm across her body, the fire moved between Hawthorne and the Others, creating a great wall. Her friend shielded his eyes with his arms, turning back to Arin.

           He sheathed his weapons, pivoted back to the Others, aiming his talons at them. Wind was summoned, bending the fire. They stood their ground for a moment. Their hoods fell back and cloaks flapped in the gust. They took a few steps back, barely standing. Arin aimed a hand at the branch above her, releasing her fire. Her ember was weak but it was enough to make the branch fall.

            “No!” the Others shouted as it landed between them. A wall of fire separated the two sides.

            “Let’s keep going, we’re almost out of here.”

   Scor turned, and continued to run with Hawthorne. The red and orange tore at her back. Arin bit back her scream as her hero began to run.

           She couldn’t breathe. The heat in her lungs was all she felt. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

            “We are almost out of the fire. Stay with me, Arin.” Scor raised his wings, trying to shield her from all wild blazes. They continued on, she could feel his rapid heartbeat. He was out of breath.

            “Hang on, we’re going to fly.”

            Arin hugged his neck as he did several bounds forward, spreading his wings wide. He lifted off, a few branches hit them, slashing at their bodies. The threat of fire was fading.

           The ride into the sky was painful as Scor jerked side to side to avoid branches. A few still stabbed the three leaving shallow gashes. The rain replaced the embers, cooling their burnt bodies. The lightning had stopped, thunder released an uncommon grumble.

           Once he was in the night sky, away from the flames, he leveled out. She coughed violently, sucking in the fresh air. Rain was still falling, the cool water on her burning skin felt sensational.

            “Don’t worry, help is nearby,” Hawthorne soothed. “You’re safe now.” Arin began to bawl. “It’s okay, let it out.”

           Arin sobbed as they flew. The rain made it harder for the two to fly. Hawthorne grunted, sinking closer to the ground.

            “It’s going to be okay,” he told himself. “We’re almost safe.”

           Arin continued her scream-crying. Hawthorne flew above Arin, pressing his beak against her head momentarily. Scor descended, grunting as he fought through the wind and rain.

            “We’re almost at safety.” Hawthorne paused. “You’re too young to have gone through what you’ve just experienced. Once everyone hears of this, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of time to rest.”

           She bit back her sniffles, clutching her shirt. Scor chuckled, “we’re almost there. Don’t sleep. Try and stay up, okay?”

           Arin nodded once. She wanted to wipe away the rain but her hands trembled too much. She did not want to let go. Scor dropped a few feet in altitude again.

            “We’re almost there. Then everyone will take care of your injuries. Do they hurt?”

            “A . . . a bit, yes.”

            They were silent for a few more minutes as Scor and Hawthorne focused on getting Arin to safety.

            “You know, when I was growing up with the Crimsons, I remember tales of pyrokinetics who were immune to burns! Maybe one day, if you must ever experience something so awful again, you will learn to become immune to fire.”

            “I—it is possible to—to learn that?”

            “Anything is possible here. I mean look at us! Harnessing elements, merging! It just takes courage to learn.”

           Arin smiled as they continued to glide lower to the ground. Arin turned her head, curious to where they were flying. In the distance was the fort, she could see light through some of the windows.

           I’m safe . . .

           Scor sped up, beating his wings in the quieting rain. Knowing that she was safe, her mind began to wander. Were the Others chasing her still? They probably were still in the fire searching.

           I controlled the fire . . .

           She smiled at her accomplishment. I controlled a wildfire.

           Scor did a smooth glide to the fort. He landed on a flat roof where medics were waiting for the three. Several Crimsons gasped when they saw Arin clinging to his neck.

            “She has very bad burns, especially on her legs and face.”

           Doctors pried Arin off of Scor. She trembled as they examined her cheek. A few exchanged scientific words between each other, Arin tuned them all out. The last thing she wanted to know was how damaged she was.

            “We have seen worse. We can fix this and by some miracle I believe that we have everything we need for this here,” one said, “thank you, Hawthorne, Scor. We will tend to any burns you have later.”

            “Don’t thank me, it was my pleasure. I'll do anything for her, or you Crimsons. Let’s hurry inside, it’s cold and my feathers are starting to become heavy.”

           One Crimson carried her down the stairs escaping the rain. The hallway lights blinded her temporarily, however nowhere near as harsh as the fire. Her mind began to drift now knowing that she was safe. Hawthorne grabbed her hanging hand as she was carried somewhere. His talons promised comfort. Her eyes begged for sleep. Arin yawned once before drifting away from her pain. She drifted away from the storm. From the flames. From the Others. And back to safety.