I play a tiefling cleric in my D&D campaign. Most of the posts here are explorations of his religion and culture. I’ve shared much of what I’m posting here in a few places already, but I wanted to share my work in a single collection here. Writing by Eric Porter he/him
This poem recounts the central story of the Eluthanai enslavement and escape from slavery by the Flame’s aid.#liberation #dnd #socialism #faith #fantasy
Eluthane celebrates their Harvest Ritual. Also in this episode we explore some queer themes in the setting. Also I had to start using a new mic halfway tho...
CW: The below story is about my D&D character’s ancestors, and their escape from slavery. As such it contains themes including: lack of bodily autonomy, forced reproduction, unwanted pregnancy and homophobia.
Of The Flame-
“Work!” the demon Poneros’s voice echoed in Phlogos’s mind, carried by the influence they called Skotia, or Darkness in the common tongue. He struggled to resist the call, yet pain racked him as the compulsion took hold. His own thoughts forgotten, he left his cell with the others.
No light guided him through the tunnels of the mine. Though his eyes were made for the dark, his only direction came from the force that constrained him to work.
Despite his years of labor in the dark, his body ached as his lord’s influence pushed him ever harder.
“Aaaaah!” he cried out as the trance that held him relented, and he dropped to the ground from the strain.
“Keep Working!” his master’s voice boomed in his head. Agony abruptly gripped him as Skotia’s force returned.
What was likely hours, but felt like days, passed as he picked away at the stone face of the tunnel while others gathered the ore, coal, and other minerals that he broke down to advance the shaft.
He was weak and coughed as dust choked him, yet he could not shrink from his worthless toil until his master directed otherwise. In time though, he was sent to eat with the others.
Standing in line for his meager meal, Phlogos worked to wipe sweat and grime from his hands. It was to little avail though as even the inside of his clothes were covered in debris from his work.
Yet despite the discomfort of his condition he relished meal time. Not so much for the food. The best that could be said about the food was that it was bland and inoffensive, if thin. No, the only real savor to be had was the easing of his master’s control, and the brief part of the day he was allowed to sit and talk with others outside his cell.
After receiving his gruel, he made his way through the familiar space in the dark.
“Phlogos?” he heard his friend Lukon call, “Are you in our usual corner?”
“Aye,” he responded, and soon his friend found his way to him slumping by the wall.
“I’m tired,” Lukon heaved a sigh as he pushed his food around with a spoon, “well, more tired than usual. I…” his voice cracked and he faltered, “I was called on to mate today.” He said as his head drooped.
Phlogos’s stomach turned. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
All of his people resented Skotia’s call to mate. For anyone, unwanted intimacy was despised enough, but for Phlogos being compelled to be with a woman was unwelcome in more ways than it was for most men.
There were whispers among the miners of other men who were like him, and rumors of what Poneros did to them. Yet these were little more than tales of a taboo that applied to no one real but himself.
He frowned as Lukon ate silently beside him for a time then began to weep softly into his bowl. Phlogos was unsure how to comfort his friend. A gentle touch, a connection helped a lot of pains, but the ordeal from mating could make even a kind hand unwelcome for days. But when Lukon slumped against him, Phlogos extended his arm to hold him.
“I’m here,” Phlogos whispered, gently patting his friend.
“I’m sorry to cry on you like this.” he said through his tears, “I just hate it so much! Our lives, we can’t even choose to make love.”
“I know,” Phlogos said softly, “I hate it every time too.” And though he feared the penalty for breaking a taboo that seemed to only apply to him, he gently stroked his friend’s back, offering what comfort he could, until the cold touch of Skotia gripped him once more.
“Work!” the command came, and all stood at once, and in unison returned to the mine.
~~~
At last the day’s work was done and Skotia’s influence forced them back into their cells. Then as guards locked the doors, Phlogos collapsed on the cold ground as his bonds abated if only for a few hours.
He drank thirstily from the only regular water he had: a small puddle that seeped under the door of his cell, its source a trough in the cell block corridor.
Whimpering came through the dark as a filing noise filled the cell. “Phos, is that you?” He called for his sister.
“I’ve almost got it,” she said through grit teeth and pain as she worked to cut her own horn from her head. Suddenly she gasped then laughed, “Ha! Ha ha ha, it’s off!” she called.
“Shh! The guards will hear!” called a third voice, Luo, a man who shared their cell.
“Never mind that,” she said, lowering her voice. Then a ripping noise came as she tore from a scrap of discarded clothing. Footfall followed as she navigated the dark cell feeling for the small vent where she hid her scant belongings.
“I can’t believe you finally cut through; with that broken pick no less,” Phlogos said, barely willing to move.
“Do you think it will work?” Luo asked.
“One way to find out,” she said, as she threaded the torn cloth into the horn, and packed it with coal laden wax she had managed to pilfer in a moment of freedom. “Make the sparks,” she said, handing the makeshift lamp and the broken pick to her brother.
Despite his fatigue, he did as she said. He struck the stone floor with the small piece of steel, and for an instant the cell was illuminated, however dimly. A trick his people had learned from generations in the mine, and Phlogos had been particularly good at it.
Again he struck the steel, and again, until the sparks caught the lamp’s wick and a solitary flame danced on the end of his sister’s horn.
“Here,” he said, handing the lamp back to his sister. It was the first sustained light he had seen in months. Not since they had burned the last of the wood they had salvaged from broken tools.
“See, it works Luo!” she said, showing the other man her creation.
“It does, and it’s very pretty,” Luo smiled. “May your lamp’s flame light and warm us tonight.”
“Yeah,” Phos said wistfully, “I wish Ma was here to see it.” Luo extended his arm around her as she sat with him.
Phlogos frowned at their mother’s mention. “I don’t clearly recall the last time I spoke to her,” he said.
“I’ve only heard from her a few times since we were separated,” she said, still watching the light intently. “I miss her,” she sighed.
~~~
Fatigue soon overwhelmed the prisoners and the lamp was stowed away, in the cell's small vent where guards might not find it.
Phlogos clutched his clothes around him as he lay on the stone floor, both longing for and dreading sleep. Fitful noises already came from both Phos and Luo, and he shuddered as he knew what dreams haunted them. He resisted the reflex to close his eyes and drift into the nightmare, yet like the command of Skotia, sleep soon became irresistible.
He stood alone in a desolate dry land of ice and snow. The sky was dark. He looked up to see the stars. He had heard of stars, or at least he thought he had. He even thought he saw them for a moment, but the darkness overwhelmed his eyes and all was void, leaving only Phlogos and the icy field beneath his feet. He walked on, looking for anything.
He could feel his body aching, not from work but from the dark cold. Then on the horizon he thought he saw something, a hint of a figure in the darkness. “Hey!” he tried to call out, yet no sound escaped his lips.
There was no wind on the icy plain, yet he wished for shelter from the cold, and prayed for any fire to warm him. Though when the gods did not answer he walked, searching for the form he’d seen on the horizon.
Yet dread filled him the further he went, and he tried to turn and run, but no matter which way he went he was drawn toward the shadow he fled. Never reaching yet always closer, he felt the darkness would soon consume him.
A hole in the ice appeared before him, an escape from the cold, yet everything in his being resisted going into the pit, fear and loathing for a place he half remembered.
The darkness pressed around him. Whispering voices seemed to tear at his flesh as he tried to turn against them and avoid his fate in the depths beneath the snow. Yet no matter how hard he resisted he knew escape would cost his life, and he fell. Fell into the inexorable pit of the frozen plain.
“Work!” The call came as he awoke in a cold sweat, and again he was compelled into the mine.
~~~
In the dark, Luo could see but a short distance, working mostly by feel and sound, and the commands of the influence that bound him.
He could see and hear his siblings of the mine who toiled with him, unable to shirk their lot. Skotia pulsed through each of them, bending them to the will of the demon they called Poneros.
The work was dangerous. Dust clogged the limited air, and sparks flew as their iron tools struck stone and ore. Phos worked nearby and he could feel her striking the stone in unison with him, not by familiarity with the work, but by the steady rhythm that beat in his head, each of them connected to the same master.
Not far off, he could make out the rhythm of a new shaft being excavated. Clank… clank clank… clank… clank clank… The sound of their strikes syncopated, not by timing but as a tell of distance to the other workers.
A sudden loud crack interrupted the rhythm, and for a moment Luo stood still. Then again he was struck by the demon’s command. “Keep working!” And the beat of the picks briefly resumed before another rumble shook the mine.
Cries rang out as Skotia’s hold abated. “The new shaft!” Luo called to Phos, “It’s collapsed.” Screams echoed through the mine as workers escaped the scene. “We need to see if anyone can be saved.”
Following, Phos carried her pick as they felt their way through the tunnel. It was hard going against fleeing survivors, but they were guided by the voice of a man crying out in pain. “It’s Lukon,” Phos said.
“Phlogos’s friend?” Luo asked.
Phos nodded. “Quickly, he’s hurt,” she said, taking Luo’s hand and dragging him until they found the site of the cave in.
“Lukon!” Phos called, “Can you hear me?”
“Help!” Panic filled his voice. “My leg’s stuck. Don’t let me die here,” he whimpered.
At his side, Luo checked for injury. “Oh gods,” he cried, finding a break in Lukon’s leg where a large stone pinned it down. “Liliq, Cerilius, anyone save us!” Yet no one answered, but Phos.
“Help me wedge my pickaxe under the boulder!” she said, “We need to get this off him.”
With a quick stroke, Luo wedged an end of the pickaxe under the boulder, and together he and Phos worked to lift it.
“Ah-ei!” Lukon cried with a deafening scream as the stone that pinned him shifted.
“It’s up. Can you slide out?” Luo asked.
Lukon tried to pull himself from under the boulder, but his strength failed and he fell against the ground.
“Phos, pull him out. I’ll hold this,” Luo said, and she responded quickly, pulling Lukon’s limp body away from the stone as Luo strained to hold its weight alone. “Is he…?” Luo asked as the boulder fell.
“He’s unconscious, but alive,” she said. “His leg is smashed though.” Tears came as she held the unconscious man. “Why?” She wept bitterly, “Why are we abandoned?”
There was little that could be done to help Lukon, but there were some things that could be, and as long as there were, Luo would do them and hope.
Taking up the pickaxe he smashed its head against the rock, again and again, until finally the tool broke. “Hold him while I bind his leg,” he said. By feel of his hand Luo twisted the broken bones back into place, at least as well as he could, then tearing his shirt, he bound the handle of the broken ax to immobilize the injury.
Then with a sudden bolt of pain, Skotia’s influence reasserted itself. “Return to your cell!” the call from their master came. His will was overwhelmed, yet Luo maintained just enough of himself to carry the body with him.
~~~
Phlogos was deep in the mine when the force that bound his will abated. At first he simply sat down his tools and stopped working. Though when panicked voices echoed through the tunnels he fled.
Tripping and stumbling in the dark he ran, but when he heard the cry of a familiar though nearly forgotten voice, he halted.
“Ma!” He called, abandoning his flight. Then carefully feeling his way, he found his mother Ge, slumped against the mine’s wall.
“Is that you Phlogos?” his mother sounded both pained and pleased.
“Yeah, Ma,” he said, embracing her, then realizing one of her arms hung limp. “You’re hurt,” he said, holding her to him.
“Oh this,” she chuckled, “This is old, like your old mother,” she coughed. “It’s been many cycles since this arm stopped working. Our master doesn’t let up on me, he doesn’t let up on anyone,” she laughed bitterly.
“Would you sit with me, my son? Moments of freedom are rare, and it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
Helping his mother to the ground, Phlogos abandoned his thoughts of escape. “There you go,” he said, sitting against the wall with her.
“So tell me about yourself,” she said. “What keeps you alive? Do you have anyone you’re close with?”
“Phos does,” he said. “We share a cell with another man, and they’ve become quite close.”
“That’s good,” she said, patting his hand, “I’m glad she has someone. I hope they can stay together. Your father was taken from me shortly after you were born. We were one of the few who had children out of love. Though I would have never let you be born had I my way. I wish I could have spared you this life. No one means to have a child here, but with Poneros’s control, there was little I could do. When I tried… well Skotia’s call…” She stopped and touched him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You probably don’t need me telling you I wish I didn’t have you. I love you dearly, but no parent wants a world without hope for their children.”
Phlogos squeezed his mother’s hand. “I think I understand,” he said, as he held her tight, feeling both her love and regret.
“Now, you’ve told me about your sister, but I asked about you,” Ge said, warmth returning to her voice.
“I…” he hesitated; he didn’t want to tell her about his taboo.
“You,” she said encouragingly.
He took a deep breath, “There is someone I like, but…” He didn’t know how to put this.
“You don’t think she likes you?” his mother prodded. “I can tell you’re a nice young man. I’m sure you just have to tell her.”
Phlogos winced. His taboo was more than he wanted her to worry about, yet it hurt leaving it unsaid. “He,” her son corrected. “I’m not sure he likes me.”
“Ah, he,” Ge used her able hand to stroke his face. “So you’re like my mother then,” she said, and Phlogos felt his eyes burn with tears as tones of love rather than reproach filled her voice.
“Your ma?” he asked, “I didn’t know.”
“Aye,” she said. “She was likely able to get away with more than you’ll be able to. But for a time, before I was taken from her, we shared a cell with an ‘aunty’ whom she adored.” His mother’s voice was wistful as she recalled the little happiness she remembered as a child.
“She wasn’t punished?” Phlogos asked.
“Oh, no she was, eventually,” Ge answered. “Poneros will do everything to make you feel alone, other. But she lived for what she could, when she could. We all have to.”
“Thank you, Ma,” he said, holding her.
She rubbed his cheek again and coughed, “What were you about when you found me?” she asked.
“I had thought to escape,” he said.
“I… wish I hadn’t stopped you then. Go now, run,” she said. “It would make me happy believing you’d escaped.”
Phlogos did as he was told and ran as quickly as he could in the dark tunnels. When he reached the block of cells, pain gripped him as Skotia’s power took hold again. “Return to your cells!” the order came.
~~~
“Help me light my lamp,” Phos pressed the piece of broken steel into Phlogos’s hand before he fully regained his senses from Skotia’s control.
Disappointment set in as he realized he was locked in his cell. Even still, he took his sister's makeshift lamp and made the sparks, and in the brief moment of light, Phlogos gasped as a familiar figure appeared on the ground next to Luo.
He struck the steel again and quickly produced the flame. “Lukon?” he called as the lamp’s light fell on him, and before he knew it, he was at his friend’s side.
“His leg’s broken,” Phos said, “it was a cave-in on a new shaft he was working.”
“He’s so cold,” Phlogos said, holding him. He again took up his sister’s lamp, which he had left on the ground, and held it over him. “Oh small flame,” tears came as he spoke, and the chill on Lukon’s limp body deepened, “please lend my friend your warmth,” he finished, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man, listening to his haggard breath.
“We're lucky he’s unconscious,” Luo said, and Phlogos glared at him incredulously, but Luo continued, “I was afraid he’d wake as we carried him here. I wouldn’t have been able to hold him had he struggled to follow Skotia’s call.”
Phlogos nodded and breathed deeply, willing life into Lukon. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded with his friend.
~~~
In time, sleep overpowered them, and the usual dreams came for the prisoners of darkness. Again Phlogos stood on the dry frozen plain. Already the shadow swirled about him, hiding something in the distance.
He called out, and again no sound came. Yet the glint of horns and a tail seemed to appear on the formless silhouette. “Lukon!” He tried calling again, and failed as the darkness pulled them apart.
He pressed harder, soundless screams echoing in his mind. And though the air was still, he was buffeted by the void’s howling gale.
“Phlogos?” A voice and a hand roused him from the dream, and he woke with a gasp. “The nightmare?” Lukon asked.
“The same one every night,” Phlogos said as he sat up, realizing who it was that spoke to him. “Except you were there this time.”
“Was I?” Lukon asked.
“Just beyond my sight… at least I thought you were. I couldn’t reach you though.” Then he stopped, remembering why Lukon was here. “Are you alright?” he asked, knowing full well his friend wasn’t.
“Yeah… No,” Lukon winced. “I’m glad to be here, though. I wasn’t sure where I was when I came to. The last thing I remember was the cave in, Phos and Luo trying to rescue me. I guess they did.”
Phlogos hugged his friend and cried, “I thought you were dying.”
“Not for now,” Lukon said, rubbing his back. “But I’m scared… Afraid of what will happen when Skotia calls in the morning.”
“Can you even walk?” Phlogos asked.
“Ha ha…” Lukon laughed then coughed. “No, and that’s the problem. I’m afraid I’ll hurt myself, or die in the tunnels with as little strength as I have. I can’t resist the call to work though.”
As they spoke the others woke. “So you’re alive,” Luo said as he sat beside them.
“Yeah um,” Lukon said, “Thanks for saving me. Everyone else fled. I can’t blame them but… well, thank you.” He looked at the ground as he finished.
“I’m glad you’re still with us,” Phos said. “My brother would be lousy with grief had you not made it.”
Phlogos started. He had never mentioned his affections for his friend, and yet she seemed to know. Then panic rose in his gut, fearing what Lukon would think should he find out.
“Do we have something to bind Lukon?” Phlogos asked, both for Lukon’s sake and to stop them from thinking too hard about his attachment to his friend.
“Why, what do you have in mind?” Luo responded.
“A precaution against Skotia’s call.”
“I’ve heard of others trying that,” Phos said. “It doesn’t work, at least not for long.”
“Others aren’t as feeble as I am when they try,” Lukon said. “It might work. Give me some time to heal at least.”
“We have some scraps of old clothes in the corner,” Luo suggested, and they fashioned cords to hold Lukon’s body.
“Are you ready?” Phlogos asked, holding bands of braided cloth. “We won’t be able to untie you until the end of work tomorrow.”
He felt Lukon nod his head, “I just wish I had some water.”
“Right,” Phos said as she cupped up water in her hands from the puddle near their door and brought it to Lukon's lips.
“Thank you. I… I think I’m ready now,” he said as he finished a third handful of water.
~~~
Phos could hear a low moaning sound as Skotia’s grasp lifted at the end of the day’s work. Fatigued, she had nearly forgotten what that sound was. Yet in the dark she could hear her brother move across the room to the side of the man he cared for.
“How are you?” Phlogos asked, the sound of cloth being untied could be heard as her brother assisted his friend.
“Tired, hungry,” came Lukon’s drowsy response.
“You’ve taken a chill again!” Fear carried on her brother’s voice. “Phos! Your lamp! Quickly!”
She scrambled, feeling for the alcove she had made just inside their cell’s vent. There she found the horn cut from her own head and the piece of steel from a broken pick. “Here,” she said, offering her lamp to her brother.
“He’s so cold,” Phlogos responded, “I need to keep holding him. Can you light it?” He sounded desperate.
Phos stood still. “I don’t know how to make the sparks,” she said, and offered the steel once more.
“You can,” Phlogos responded, “I’ve seen you do it. Just strike the steel across the stone.” Her brother tried to reassure her through the edge of panic clear in his voice. Still with steel in hand she struck the floor, again and again, yet no light came. Again she tried and failed.
“Oh flame,” she cried, beating the floor, “We need your light to help our friend.” Then with the next strike the sparks came and the flame danced again on her lamp’s wick. “Thank you,” she whispered. And soon Lukon’s breathing relaxed as the gentle light filled the room.
As she placed her lamp at her brother’s side, she found Luo sitting near her. The end of his shirt was tied into a small satchel. Undoing the knot, he produced a morsel of food.
“Here, eat this,” Luo said, passing the hours-old food to Lukon, who ate eagerly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring more,” he added.
“We’re always a little hungry. I’m afraid I’m used to it,” he responded. “And thanks…”
“Ugh, I’m sore,” Lukon said as he stretched his arms. “I spent the entire day struggling against the cords.” He leaned against Phlogos, “Would you help me stand?” he asked, “I need to move.”
“Of course,” Phlogos said, helping him up, supporting his weight as they stood.
“Thank you,” Lukon said, “I’d like to walk if you’ll hold me.” Phlogos nodded and smiled as they walked around the small cell. “Is something funny?” Lukon asked as he noticed his friend’s grin.
“Oh, it’s…” Phlogos looked down shyly then chuckled, “It’s just I met my ma yesterday when Skotia’s power weakened. She told me a story about my grandma. She said she lived for what she could, and being here with you… well despite everything, I’m happy you’re here.”
At the mention of her mother, Phos sat alert, and watched as Lukon shared her brother's shy smile. “You met Ma?” she asked, “What did she tell you about Grandma?”
Her brother glanced down in his familiar anxious manner. “Um…” he trailed off a bit and Phos worried what it might be. “Well she told me a story about her childhood, and how her mom had a girlfriend. Ma called her Aunty. They were happy together for some time.”
So her brother had that in common with their grandma. Phos worried about Phlogos and the rumors surrounding people like him, and what their master did to them. She wondered if Lukon knew her brother’s secret. Yet what he said made her pause.
“You mean she wasn’t punished for that?” Luo gave voice to her concern.
“Eventually,” Phlogos admitted, “but it wasn’t immediate. They lived for what they could. At least that’s what Ma said.”
Phos wasn’t sure if she should be afraid or happy for him, but she could only suspect how this story came up with their mother.
“I guess we have to take what happiness we can when we find it,” Luo said. Phos let herself lean into the man she loved and smiled. Perhaps their mother was right.
~~~
Healing was slow as Lukon recovered in his friend’s cell. His body ached. Bound as he was against Skotia’s call, the strain was perhaps worse than work in the mine. Being left to struggle and unable to move or stretch, his muscles bunched into spasming knots. Yet as days turned into weeks, his strength returned, sustained by the bits of food the others took turns bringing him.
Despite the pain he was happy; happier than he could remember being. Seeing Phlogos smile in the light of his sister’s lamp as he offered himself as a crutch to help relieve his pain each day, he began to realize how his friend cared for him.
“Are you alright?” Phlogos asked suddenly as they walked around the cell.
“I’m fine, considering. More than fine actually; why?” Lukon asked.
“Oh it’s just… you haven’t said much,” Phlogos said.
“Distracted I think,” Lukon said. “I’m not sure how long the cloth bands will hold me.”
“I…” Phlogos trailed off, “I’ve avoided thinking about that.”
“It’s just, what I was really thinking about…” he hesitated, hoping he had come to understand how his friend thought of him, but he was unsure. Even still, he continued, “I’ve been thinking about the story your ma told you.”
“You mean, about living for what you can?” Phlogos asked.
“Yeah.” Lukon took a deep breath and pressed forward, “I mean, the story about your grandma.” Phlogos’s eyes widened and his breath fell short as every muscle in his body went rigid. And though Lukon was also afraid of what he meant to say, he offered his friend a gentle smile. “I probably only have a few days before I’ll be strong enough to break the cloth cords. In the time we have left, I want you to know that I want to live for you, the way your grandma did for her friend.”
In that moment Phos audibly stifled a gasp, and tears filled Phlogos’s eyes as he drew Lukon into a tight embrace. “Ha! Ha ha ha… I love you too,” he whispered.
“Poneros will surely punish you for this,” Phos’s voice trembled with worry.
“Please, let me have this, if just for a moment,” Phlogos pleaded with his sister. “It’s all I can do to resist my own fear.” And she nodded, hiding her face in her hands.
Lukon wrapped his arms around his… friend wasn’t quite the right word anymore. Even still, he took in everything about the sensation. They shared a brief timid kiss and laughed holding each other.
“Thank you,” Phlogos said.
~~~
They held each other through the night. The dream of the dry frozen land came for Phlogos as it always did, yet when he woke in the night, the weight of Lukon’s body returned his mind to ease. He savored those moments awake, letting himself drift peacefully just beyond the reach of sleep’s nightmare.
“You awake?” Lukon asked suddenly in the dark.
“Yeah,” Phlogos said, gripping the other man’s hand.
“Good,” Lukon answered. “I wanted to be with you before the call to work came.”
Phlogos traced the outline of his face and kissed him tenderly. Yet dread filled him as he knew Skotia’s call was moments away. Tears came and fell to his love’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?” Lukon asked.
“Everything,” Phlogos replied. “I don’t want to leave you.” He buried his face in Lukon’s chest. Then as he kissed him again, Skotia’s influence took hold. A great shock ran through his body. Something more than the usual pain to punish resistance. His guts churned from the agony.
“Workers are required to reproduce themselves!” It was the same order that broke a hunger strike, the same that came with the call to mate. And as the words echoed in his mind, he recalled his mother’s wish to end her pregnancy. Now this call came with the pain and penalty for love between men.
The shock came again. Lighting coursing, bereaving him of desire. Nauseous, he vomited from an empty stomach.
Guards burst into the cell. “No! Please no,” he cried as the sound of tearing cloth rang clear, and Phlogos knew they were taking Lukon from him. Then a clatter as the splint that held his leg fell.
“No! Leave him. Please, he’s injured!” Luo yelled, pleading with guards, and he could hear his cellmate whimper and the guards’ laughter as they beat him.
“Gods help us!” Phlogos cried, but they didn’t hear, and the pain came again, wave after wave.
~~~
Luo was desperate for the day's work to end as welts covered his body from the beating he took contending with the tiefling guards. He had begged for mercy as they dragged Lukon away, and found only spite.
In truth, the guards were his own kin, called by Skotia to be Poneros’s cudgel. Though it wasn’t all compulsion for them. For some it had been an escape from the hard labor of the mine. Many though enjoyed the authority the demon afforded them, and Luo hated them for their betrayal.
In time he was called to his meal. As he stood in line, he searched the few faces he could see, hoping to spot either his cellmate or his friend. “Lukon?” he called out.
“You know Lukon?” the man next to him asked.
“I do, he’s friends with my cellmate. Have you seen him?”
“I hate to tell you…” the man started. “He’s dead.”
“Dead?” Panic gripped Luo and he lost his breath. “When? How?”
“Mineshaft collapsed on him, several weeks back I think,” the man responded, and Luo made a sigh of relief, but the man continued. “Poor fellow. Probably a mercy he went that way, with his curse… with what happens to men like him.”
So Lukon was known. Luo supposed people picked up on such things, though Phlogos hadn’t. Even still, he only knew about Phlogos from Phos's fretting. He wondered if this man was Lukon’s cellmate.
“He’s not dead,” Luo said. “Or he wasn’t this morning.”
“What!” the man exclaimed, “I haven’t seen him since the collapse.”
“We found him unconscious. He’s been recovering in our cell, but guards took him this morning.”
“Aye, thank you,” he said. “I expect he’ll be back in our cell tonight.”
“Take care of him. He’s been…” Luo fell short, he couldn’t put to words what happened.
“Your cellmate… he’s Phlogos isn’t he?” the man asked, and Luo nodded. “Thought so. My brother mentions him… a lot. Were they…?”
“They…” Luo didn’t know what to tell his man, Lukon’s brother. “They were happy.”
“Happy?” he asked. “Well there’s that. At least there’s that. Tell your cellmate that Tykos is taking care of his friend. Poor souls, they deserve better,” he shook his head.
Meal time was short; shorter than Luo expected. The grueling work that followed felt like ages before Skotia finally returned him to his cell.
As soon as their minds were free, Phos struggled to light her lamp. “Please,” she cried, “I need to know, I need to see him!” she struck again and the light of a solitary flame shone.
She knelt beside her brother’s unconscious form, and Luo came to her side stroking her back as he sat. “Is he…?” he asked.
“Alive,” she said. “Though barely breathing.”
Luo gulped and winced from the pain of his own punishment. “I suppose a punishment like that only works if you live to remember it.” He shook his head.
Phos lay over her brother's body weeping. “Why?” she cried, “Why were you born with such a curse?”
Luo started; it was the second time he’d heard that word today. “Let your brother be,” he said. “It’s only a curse because Poneros makes it one.”
She pushed her face into Luo’s side and shook as tears fell. “I should have stopped him,” she said crying. “I just thought, maybe he could be happy for a little bit.”
“He was. Perhaps he can be again.”
“I don’t see how,” Phos said. “You heard them, the sounds they made as Skotia tortured them.” She shuddered, and Luo felt ill. He didn’t want to believe how bad the punishment really was, yet their cries haunted him.
“Please don’t reproach him when he wakes,” he asked. “He’ll need care, more than scorn.”
“I just wish I could protect him.” She placed her lamp beside her brother’s head. “Please guard his way,” she asked the flame. Its light flickered, and in the warm glow Phlogos’s strained expression softened.
~~~
Phlogos awoke with a sudden gasp, left weak from the waves of pain. Laying nearby was the handle of the broken pickaxe. He reached out and drew it against his chest, sobbing.
“Are you…” Phos cut short as her brother cried only harder. “I’m sorry,” she said, gently running her hands through his coal blackened hair.
Luo came and sat beside him. “I met Lukon’s brother today,” he said. “They share a cell; he said he’d take care of Lukon for us.”
Phlogos sat up, still clutching the old splint. “Tykon?” He was someone Lukon talked about often and Luo nodded. “Thanks.” Luo patted his back and offered his cellmates a smile.
“I miss him already,” Phlogos said. “I don’t know when I’ll see him again, or if I won’t be afraid to see him.” His eyes burned as fresh tears fell.
~~~
Days passed since Lukon was taken. Each day Phlogos anxiously awaited his meal, unsure how he would feel to meet him. He longed for his presence and his touch, yet as his mind lingered on that last night together, memories of the pain seeped into his thoughts, and his guts wrenched as his body quaked.
Sitting alone, he thought he could hear whispers around him, like the darkness in his dreams. He feared the glances of the miners around him. Worried they knew everything, avoiding him lest his taboo taint them.
Each day he looked for Lukon, and each day he was missing.
“Work!” Skotia’s call grew stronger. His little acts of rebellion crushed before he could even try to resist.
Though there was no light in the mine, the darkness weighed against him, deepening every time he returned.
“You haven’t spoken to us in days.” He barely registered that he was back in their cell as Phos sat next to him. Even her lamp’s light seemed dim and distant.
“Everything seems dark and loathsome.” Phlogos sank morosely, cradling Lukon’s splint. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” As he spoke, the light of the lamp seemed to dim further.
“It’s almost Longest Night,” Luo answered. “It may even be this evening. The darkness has been mounting for days now.”
“Why now?” Phlogos cried. “If I can’t have him, can’t I at least have the light?!” He smashed the splint. “Give me the steel,” he said.
He hacked at the broken strip of wood. “I feel alone… so alone. Gods, why?” When they didn’t answer, he continued to cut away.
The shadows of the cell deepened as he worked. “Phos I need your lamp, please,” he begged.
“Phlogos?” she stood, resting her hand against his back. “Phlogos!” she called again, drawing his face up to look at her.
“Please,” he said, “It’s so dark. I need the flame’s light.” He was weeping as he took her hand, and a concerned smile crossed her lips as she handed him the lamp of horn.
Holding it against the chips of wood and broken stick, he spread the flames. “Please sit with me,” he asked. The others came and warmed themselves against the cold and shadow.
“O small fire,” Phlogos prayed, “hear my call on Longest Night when darkness reigns, keep us warm and light our way.”
The fire fell dim, but for a moment. Then blossomed as a radiant crimson Flame, its power resonating in his soul. He felt truly warm for the first time since he could remember, and he cried, wishing Lukon was still here.
Then he looked at the others, realizing the power he felt was reflected in them as well. He smiled, knowing he could trust these people, and for the first time in days he didn’t feel alone.
“What?” Phos asked, “After so many generations have the gods finally answered?” She was more than a little incredulous.
“He prayed to the Flame,” Luo said. “It was the Flame that answered. It’s the Flame that’s been answering.”
“Thank you,” Phos said, warming her hands in the red light.
~~~
The red fire burned as Phlogos lay tired and sore on the cell floor. For once he did not fear for sleep as the Flame’s light eased his aching. Gently his breath deepened as he drifted into the dream.
He stood again on the frozen plane, yet it wasn’t the place he knew from his dreams. In his hand he held his sister’s horn lamp. No, this was his lamp. He didn’t remember making it, but it was his horn he held. It carried a deep red Flame like the one that burned on Longest Night.
The light shone across a devastated land, but as he walked, the ice retreated from around him. The stars were still obscured in the darkened sky, yet warmth from the Flame kept the murk of the dream at bay.
In the distance, a tower stood near the edge of a forest. He knew it, though he had never clearly seen it before, a figure in the darkness just beyond sight in the dreams that haunted his people. The memory of fear reached for him, yet the light of the Flame shone forth in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it. And Phlogos was not afraid.
~~~
“Work!” The echo of a command called Phlogos from his slumber. He sat up. The embers of their fire still glowed. “Work!” The call came again.
He could feel Skotia’s power press him, yet the light of the Flame still radiated in his heart and the darkness could not bind him. “No!” Phlogos responded aloud. Then looking to the others he called, “Phos, Luo? Are you…?”
Bewildered, Phos looked about the cell. “I… don’t have to go?” she said uncertainly, then resolve took hold. “We could escape!”
The thought overwhelmed Phlogos. He had attempted to flee a few times in his life when Skotia’s influence slackened, but its force had always caught him. Now he knew it couldn’t catch him, and he made for the cell door left open for their work.
“Wait!” Luo called, “By Flame’s light we’re awake, but above the demon’s guards would overtake us. Even now our friends toil below; what of them?” Luo pressed them, but he continued before they could respond. “If we take the Flame below we could free them, and together we might stand against Poneros.”
Taking up her lamp, Phos lit it from the remaining embers. “We can free Ma… we can free Lukon,” she said resting hand on her brother’s shoulder.
Phlogos nodded as tears filled his eyes. “We can free everyone,” he said.
By the Flame they descended, free of Skotia’s force. The labyrinthine shafts of the mine were both familiar yet alien as seen by light, twisting and forking as they did. The old upper tunnels were all but deserted, but before long footfall could be heard.
“Guards,” Luo whispered. “This way.” He gestured, and they descended a far path.
They moved silently, listening to the echoing steps. “Oh Flame protect us,” Phos prayed, and they were warmed by the light’s power.
“Would the Flame not free them as well?” Phlogos asked as the sound of the guards faded.
“Perhaps,” Luo responded. “If they’re being compelled; I’m not sure they are. At least not all of them.”
Phlogos breathed deeply, stilling himself, wishing he held a pickaxe. The others below had such tools, and they had the Flame.
~~~
Ge knew the cycles of Skotia’s power well, as many had passed since she was born in the mine under the demon ravaged land. The darkness of Longest Night weighed heavy in the abyss as they worked, even as Shortest Day approached.
She gathered ore with her one able arm as a man chipped away, advancing a new shaft. Her only reprieve came as he occasionally stumbled on a mis-healed leg.
She didn’t know him. He had been new to this part of the mine just days before, yet working together she felt she knew him. His tale would be similar to her own of course. Born in darkness, working in darkness, but with him there was a certain familiar quality she felt.
It was his injury, she thought to herself, a kindred in that regard. And though she was allowed little thought as she labored, she couldn’t help but feel more.
They continued working with their unsteady rhythm when suddenly Scotia's murk broke, and a brilliant light illuminated the cavern.
“Is that her? Ma!” She heard the call of a distantly-remembered voice, of a child now grown. Three figures came clothed in light, one holding a small Flame on a crude lamp.
The man with her suddenly cried out trembling, “No… no!” His voice quivered as he stumbled in fear. “Please not again… I can’t,” he wept, shrinking away.
“Lukon?” her son’s voice called out from among the three. “I’m so sorry,” he said, tears running down his dusty face as he knelt beside the quaking man. “Oh Flame help him,” he prayed, “Soothe his fears, and free him as we are free.”
As he spoke, warm light reflected in her soul. Skotia’s shackles broke as the darkness retreated. A flood of light spread through the mine, and she could soon feel the same power radiating in the hearts of all her kin.
“Ma!” the familiar voice spoke again, “Is that really you?” The woman bearing the Flame knelt beside her.
“Phos?” She gasped, “Oh my sweet Phos.” She cried as her daughter embraced her. “How?” she asked, not having the words to say what she felt.
Her daughter held her tight. “It’s the Flame, Ma; She answered our prayer. We’re going to be free.”
~~~
Torment gripped Lukon as he shook, laying against the wall, pinned by his terror. He feared he would never see Phlogos again, and panicked when he thought he might.
He wept, his eyes pressed shut. “Lukon,” his love’s voice came gently, with a warmth that burned within. The light swelled, and the memories of torture at his master’s hand melted away. Not forgotten—he would never truly forget—but his fears eased enough that he could reach for the man he loved.
“Phlogos?” Lukon sobbed, pulling him in. “You came for me,” he whispered, “I…” He didn’t want to admit he had been afraid to do the same.
“We’re together now, that’s all that matters,” Phlogos said, running his hand along Lukon’s face. “I was afraid too, but we had help.” He nodded toward the lamp his sister held.
A booming voice suddenly filled the chamber. “Ah, I see you found him.” Tykos slapped Phlogos on the back. “Told’ya you’d see him again,” he added, ruffling Lukon’s hair. “Didn’t imagine a reunion like this though.”
“So we’re free then?” Lukon asked, looking between Phlogos and his brother.
“Free as ya’ can be, with a demon ruling the land above.” Tykon hefted his pickaxe as he spoke.
Before he could respond, the growing sound of singing echoed through the tunnels. “What’s going on?” Lukon asked.
“The Flame’s light is spreading,” his brother answered. “They’re making torches. Something of their own for once; can’t help but sing.” He didn’t know if he had ever seen his brother smile, but he did now.
He couldn’t make out what they sang, yet the sound resonated with him as the Flame’s light did.
Phos and Luo came beside them as the singing swelled. The woman he’d worked with accompanied them. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, “The singing?”
Lukon smiled. “It is,” he answered, “Though I wish I knew the words.”
“There may not be any,” she responded. “Our people have had little opportunity to sing for a long time. Still, when the heart’s glad, you sing. It’s good to hear them. My mother sang to me as a child, some of the old stories. I expect we’ll make new ones now though.”
She smiled and looked at him. “Working with you, I thought I knew you,” she said, thinking for a moment. “You remind me of her…” she chuckled, “You remind me of my son,” she added.
“Did you know your ma or your son long?” Lukon asked.
The woman shook her head, “I knew my mother just long enough that I remember her.” She smiled and looked up at him. “As for my son, I’ve met him only a few times, but he’s a good man.” She beamed, looking at Phlogos as he spoke with Tykos.
“You’re Ge?” Lukon asked, surprised.
The woman nodded. “So I take it you’re the one my son has feelings for. Was he ever brave enough to tell you?” she asked.
Lukon scratched behind his horns as he looked down at the ground. “Ha ha,” he laughed lightly, “I may have been the one to tell him. I’m sorry for the torment I caused him.”
“Don’t be,” she said warmly. “Love is worth more than shame.” Lukon looked up and hugged her. She laughed, and patted his back. “Take care of him,” she said, “he’ll need it.”
“I’m afraid he’ll be caring for me more than I can for him.” Lukon patted his twisted leg.
Her smile deepened. “You’ll get used to that,” she said, showing her own limp arm. “You may consider a cane though, should we ever get out of this mine.”
Phlogos returned from talking with Tykos. “Everyone who can fight is going to the surface to deal with Poneros. We’ll come back for you once it’s done.”
“I intend to fight,” Lukon protested.
“But your leg…” Phlogos started, but cut short as Lukon planted his pickaxe in the ground.
His life in the mine had made him strong. His leg didn’t move as it had, but he stood tall and firm supported by the ax. “Give me a torch,” he responded, “I can fight.”
“I’ll take a torch too,” Ge added.
~~~
Phos carried her lamp as her kin fell in line behind her for the long march ascending the mine. At her side Phlogos and Luo bore torches as most of the others did.
“O Flame!” She called, “Preserve our wills and keep our way.” As she prayed, their red Flame of liberation took form before her. Not as a person, but as a beautiful sinuous fire which led the way before them.
“Forward you workers,” Luo called as the march began, “Freedom awaits you!”
A tumultuous noise echoed as the column advanced. The sounds of the guards clamoring to abate the flood of the workers’ strike. As the Flame’s light filled the tunnels, many fled. Still many more, unwilling to abandon the power Poneros afforded them, drew their swords in preparation for the workers’ march.
Bearing her lamp, the Flame’s anger radiated through Phos’s being, calling out the words that burned in her heart.
Hear the song of my wrath
The cries of your abused
Long have burned with me
I am the Flame!
The oppressed I gather
As a mother with child
I alight in the will
Bonds I break
On soul and flesh
The tormentor
Of my children
Shall not stand
My rage is kindled
Violator of my charge
You shall I scorch
As the last words left her lips, the great Flame that marched before them swelled, consuming the guards that would not relent.
Then, guided by the Flame’s scarlet light, they marched to the mine’s entrance.
~~~
It was not quite dawn on Shortest Day when Phlogos emerged with the others from the mine. A destroyed desolate valley stretched out before them. Stumps punctuated the frozen terrain where a forest once stood. The landscape was scarred with pits, remains of the calamity which bound their ancestors.
In the distance stood the tower the Flame had shown him by dream. “There!” he called, “Our worthless taskmaster awaits us.”
As in dreams, a blackened pall obscured the stars, and the gale of darkness buffeted them. Though shielded by Flame’s light, Phlogos could feel Skotia’s power pulsing with the demon’s commands: “Return to work or leave. I will not spare any who continue to stand against me.”
“Leave?” Lukon spat incredulously. “Generations of abuse, and now leave?!”
“A sick compromise,” Phlogos said aghast.
“Son,” Ge said at his side, “You don’t compromise with slavers. He’s afraid.”
“Our only option is to fight,” Luo hefted his torch. “Even if I thought he’d let us escape, those still in the mine would have no chance to avoid death or subjugation. We fend for them as much as we fend for ourselves; they're trusting us.” Phlogos nodded, marching forward with the others.
Then the black wind which blows in still air tore at the column of liberated miners, pressing them back to the pit. As on Longest Night, the memory of fear reached for Phlogos and those with him. Yet with Lukon standing with him, he recalled the Flame’s power as it had been in the dream, and he called out the words given to him: “The light of the Flame shines forth in darkness, and the darkness cannot overtake it!”
As he prayed, the light swelled, sheltering them from the inky deluge emanating from the tower beyond.
As the Flame pressed against the storm, Lukon raised his voice. “See the red Flame advancing before us. Her path is our shelter. Follow! We’ll soon be free.”
~~~
Luo crossed the frozen valley alongside Phos and all who had ascended the mine. Before them a line of guards assembled with shields raised at the tower’s gate.
“Halt!” Their captain commanded. “Return to your pit, slaves!”
Luo seethed as the bruises left by the guards of the mine still ached. “I have been enslaved, but I am not a slave!” Luo roared. “How handsomely have you been paid to oppress your own people?”
His fear and loathing of the guards coursed through his being. They had been the demon’s tool for order and retribution in those times when Skotia’s power waned. He had known their brutality and malice, at times even glee, as they enforced the demon’s law.
He knew the Flame would keep their way should the guards strike, yet another part of him wished they could be spared. These were, after all, the children and siblings of those he stood with. He didn’t know if any were his, but no doubt they were cousins. Tears filled his eyes as he faced them. “Please,” he said, “We can be free together. This doesn’t have to be your fight. Please choose to...”
The captain cut him short. “Standing against our lord means death, but we’ve been ordered to show you mercy if you but leave.”
“We can’t. Too many depend on us, and Poneros will just enslave others if we go.” He couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief and laugh, “He may even start with you.” Luo gestured to the line of guards. A few stepped uneasy, gripping their swords as he spoke. “Please stand down,” he continued, “your cohort in the mine has already been consumed; the Flame is our keep and shelter.”
Those who trembled before at the prospect of their lord turning his dark force on them now broke rank and ran.
“Stand together!” their captain cried, “Don’t let them go.” Then he and the other guards drew their swords to pursue the deserters.
Luo stood horrified as the guards he so loathed turned, cutting down those who fled. “O Flame,” he whispered his prayer, “Spare those who flee.”
A wall of fire cut the line of guards, sowing chaos in the ranks as some fled while others turned to put down the workers who escaped from the mine. Yet the Flame was with his people, and they called out for her, “O Flame,” they had no eloquence in prayer yet they cried out earnestly, “Save us!”
From each of their torches the red light shone, and the Flame’s sinuous form swelled, immolating the guards who still stood against them.
“To the tower!” Luo called.
~~~
The guards’ last stand in the snow had left the tower all but deserted when the children of the Flame finally entered. Even still, Lukon could feel the thrum of Skotia’s power struggling to impress him back into servitude.
“We go up!” Phlogos called, leading by Flame’s light, and Lukon followed close behind. Planting his pickaxe firmly on the ground with each step he ascended the demon’s keep.
The tower was tall, but not so much as the mine was deep, and soon the head of the column reached the upper stairs.
Though the tower's entrance had been left ajar by the fallen guards, at the tower’s peak they found a reinforced door which barred their way. Tykos pushed to the front, ax in hand. “Call the Flame,” he said.
“I don’t know…” Phos responded.
“Call!” he cried as he began to beat the door. “These tools were made for the mine, but I won’t break this door alone.”
Then lifting her lamp, Phos prayed, calling forth again the great fire, and Lukon stepped back as the immense heat of the Flame battered the door. Still Tykos struck again and again until, breaking his ax, the door gave way.
Lukon pushed through with the others as the entrance was breached. An intense wave of pain struck, halting their attack. This was not the Skotia he had known, or at least here in the demon’s presence, what had been a wind, was now a torrent, more visceral, deeper cutting. Yet his mind remained free.
As the others were driven back, he struck his pickaxe firmly into the floor and dragged himself forward.
“I told you to leave,” Poneros said in even tones. “I would have let you. You could have been free, happy.”
“No!” Lukon shouted as another wave of pain emanated from their former lord. Yet as he writhed in pain, he was caught, not by how monstrous, but how plain the demon looked. He had all the appearance of a person, and like himself he bore hands, face, nose and eyes, horns and tail. Had Lukon not suffered under his grotesque power, he would have mistaken this being for kin.
He planted his ax again, inching closer. Then with a word from the demon, a barrier formed, pushing him back. He stumbled, only just catching himself as the force threw his progress.
Ge was at his back, torch in her able hand, “Flame, please.” She made the only prayer she could muster, yet the sinuous Flame sprang from her torch, and bore down on the wall that halted their path. “Go,” she said as the barrier fell.
Lukon followed in the Flame’s wake and withstood Skotia’s gale. With torch in hand and pickaxe in the other, he raised his arms above his head. His life in the mine had made him strong. Then with both hands, he brought Flame and ax against Poneros’s crown.
Without the ax to steady him, the force of the blow brought Lukon back to the floor, but the demon fell too, and Skotia’s power finally abated.
Phos, with lamp in hand, knelt beside Lukon. “Are you injured?” she asked.
Lukon shook his head, “No…” he said, “The demon?”
His people had gathered around their fallen foe. “Mercy! Please!'' The demon cried, but he was left unanswered as his people threw him from the tower.
~~~
Phlogos stood with Lukon near the opening of the mine as they watched the twilight of Shortest Day deepening, warming themselves against the cold by a great fire which had been built to honor the Flame.
The only work done since deposing the demon had been to see his people fed. Now though, he wished only to enjoy the open sky, and the sight of forests and mountains that loomed over the eastern horizon.
He breathed deeply as Lukon wrapped his arm around him. He still had to resist his fear of the old taboo. Yet now, reminding himself Poneros was dead soothed him, and he smiled as he squeezed his own arm around the man he loved.
“So,” Lukon asked, “What is this land?”
“I don’t know,” said Phlogos. “The destroyed land is what many call it.”
“That’s a bit dour,” Lukon sighed, surveying the frigid landscape. “We were free the first time I saw it. I’d like to remember it for that.”
“I learned a bit of our ancestors’ language from my ma. She thought it was important to remember it,” Phlogos said. “Perhaps Eluthane…” he offered. “It means: I was freed.”
“I like that,” Lukon said, laying his head against Phlogos’s arm.
“Oh?” Lukon asked, suddenly pointing toward the sky, “What’s that?”
Phlogos smiled and cried a little as he looked. “That’s a star. At least, I think so.” And he held Lukon tight as more appeared in the darkening sky.
Phos sat meditating on the stone floor of her old cell in the mines below the nearly-completed Temple of the Flame.
Once the structure above was finished, this place where she and the others were first blessed by the Flame’s light was to be preserved. Though the ritual center of her people’s faith would move, and this place would see little use after.
Even before the change came, she felt wistful for the old improvised sanctuary. Despite her time bound here, this was where the Flame’s way was given. This was the first place hallowed since their liberation. The pain of her servitude, though not forgotten, had been diminished by the light that followed. Not all felt the same though, and the Temple above would be for all who sought the Flame’s warmth.
“A sacrifice from all for each, is freedom’s light command,” she half sang the line from one of her people’s liberation songs.
Suddenly the sound of washing came from the corridor beyond the cell wall. “O Flame, guide our path,” she heard Dendra intone before entering the space.
“I wasn’t expecting you to join me down here,” Phos said warmly as her daughter sat beside her.
“I wouldn’t have disturbed you,” unease apparent in her daughter’s voice. “The hunters have returned early and without game.”
Dendra's eyes were wide as her gaze flitted around the room, her tail twitching with agitation. She was afraid. Though having children of her own, Dendra quivered like a child.
“You didn’t say anyone was injured,” Phos said. “What’s happened?”
“Luo found me after returning with the others. He said a wasting disease plagues the deer, and that a shadow lurks in the woods.”
A shiver took Phos. “The light of the Flame shone forth in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.” she uttered both as affirmation and desperate prayer.
“The hunter’s counsel has asked for your guidance,” Dendra said.
“Why?” Phos sighed, running her hand through the hair between her horns. “Domos is the leader of the priesthood. Many cycles gone since I last filled that role.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know, mother,” Dendra said. “You are the last of the Three, and they’re afraid.”
“Our people must learn to let power pass to others; that is the Way of the Flame. I won’t usurp Domos’s role.”
Dendra sighed, “Maybe, but Luo led the hunt this cycle and he asked for you. I think he needs his mother as much as he needs ‘Phos of the Lamp’.”
“Perhaps,” Phos said, “but ask Domos to join me. I trust his counsel as much as anyone trusts mine. This matter sits ill with me. I’ll be up shortly; let me finish my offering.”
After her daughter left, Phos completed the offering of rendered fat, and cursed herself as she stood for insisting the room remain unfurnished as it had been in the time of their servitude. “Too old to be sitting on the floor,” she muttered.
She ascended the stairway from the old mineshaft, and soon entered the central chamber of the unfinished temple. Only the oculus above the great fire was left to complete. Though no construction took place today to allow rituals in the space below.
The corridors were dark and empty now, yet it was easy for Phos to imagine the temple warmed by the Flame, her people gathered inside for ritual meals and offerings. As sacred as she found the cell below, this would make a much warmer home for the Flame.
Sunlight overwhelmed her as she stepped outside. As far north as they were, even late into the evening the summer sun shone brightly in the sky. In the time it took her eyes to adjust, Domos approached her.
“The hunters have gathered on the green,” he said. “I’ve heard their story, but I don't know what to make of it.”
“So far I’ve only heard it second hand,” Phos said. “I’ll let them tell me. Perhaps we’ll make something of it hearing it again,” she added and walked on to where the hunters had gathered, Domos in tow.
“Ma,” her son called, “I…” Luo was at the brink of tears before he embraced his mother then collapsed sobbing. “The forest was dark at noon, and the beasts are dying in the woods.”
Phos patted her son’s back, at a loss for words. Most of the hunters appeared weak, as though they hadn’t eaten in days.
“Had I not seen Poneros dead myself, I would have thought him stalking us in the forest,” said one of the older hunters as his body trembled. “The shadow that fell over us was a thick darkness; I had to light a torch at midday, and only after calling on the Flame to guide us could I see more than a few strides.”
“Troubling indeed,” Phos said, holding her son.
“It’s not the Skotia, is it?” Luo said, shaking.
Phos shuddered at the mention. The word meant darkness, but in the time of their servitude it was what they had called the influence Poneros used to bind their minds. It was unlike other magic they had known of. And while its power had been broken by the Flame, they knew little of the force that bound them.
“Please tell me from the beginning what happened,” Phos said.
“The deer were the first sign,” the older hunter said, “their bodies wasting, and lethargic. We went deeper into the woods seeking healthy game. A day’s journey and the wasting disease was only worse. A terrible sight to see them like that. Not one looked well.”
“The next day,” Luo said, still clutching his mother’s arm, “Many of the camp members became ill. We didn’t know if it was our nerves or if the disease was catching. But Eluthane depends on us for meat, so we continued.”
“The darkness came not long after. By midday our hunt was fleeing the woods. Afraid to sleep, we pressed through the night and the next day until we arrived here.”
Phos didn’t know what to make of the tale, but what she did know was, “Each of you should go to the Temple. If this disease is catching, it isn’t safe to send you about town, and there is no other place large enough to house you,” Phos said.
They nodded and began to depart for the unfinished sanctuary.
“We need to bring together the other priests,” Domos said, “and anyone that knows a bit of healing; we can’t see to all of them ourselves. If they are very sick they may need care for days.”
Phos nodded, “And the shadow?” she asked.
“Let us see to our people first, then the woods,” he said.
~~~
Before long, the priests and other healers had been summoned to the Temple, and the sick were laid up in the empty ritual rooms.
Few hunters had been healthy upon returning, and most had fallen ill since arriving at the Temple. Luo however found himself well, though a quarantine prevented him from leaving. Yet he found himself grateful not to be alone.
Unease weighed on him. Closing his eyes was enough to return him to the shadow he fled. His waking thoughts were a nightmare. He had never known the darkness his parents had faced. He hoped he never would. Now though, only the work he’d been given to assist with the care of his fellow hunters distracted him from his fear.
“Luo?” a voice called, and he startled. “I’m sorry,” said Aithos, one of the priests caring for the hunting party. The man came to his side and smiled, resting a hand on his back.
They had been friends as children; though they hadn’t spoken in many cycles, not since Aithos had left to study abroad.
“Are you alright?” Aithos asked.
Luo was surprised by the man’s touch, yet it put him at ease. “I will be, thank you,” he said, exhaling deeply.
Aithos smiled, “Good,” he said. “Are those the herbs I asked for?” he asked, gesturing to the bundle Luo carried.
Luo nodded, though his hands trembled as he handed the bundle to the priest. Aithos lifted Luo’s chin, concern clear in his expression. “Your party will recover. There are skilled physicians looking after them. The herbs I asked you for will help them sleep. They need that now more than anything.” The young hunter made himself smile, not wanting Aithos worrying about him when others needed his care right now.
“You’re cold,” Aithos said. “Go rest by the fire; I’ll let you know if I need your help again.”
Luo left the priest and headed for the central chamber, then stopped and watched Aithos walk the opposite direction, realizing how much he had missed his friend.
~~~
It was late at night and the sun was truly set by the time each of their patients had been seen, and Phos was sure they would survive the night.
She found herself walking the corridor of the hallway to the Temple’s central chamber, where a fire had been lit in the great hearth beneath the unfinished oculus. There she found Domos tending the Flame and Luo sitting nearby.
“I thought it fitting to light a watch fire even though this space is yet to be sanctified,” Domos said as Phos knelt before the Flame.
“The Flame’s light shines where it is called, if a space is hallowed or not. The lady of Eluthane will still keep us,” Phos said, then added, “You needn’t justify yourself to me.”
“Would that you filled my role at a time like this,” Domos said, looking pleadingly to Phos.
She shook her head. “I would not,” she said.
“Why?” Domos asked. “Our people look to you. You are the last of the three after all.”
“That’s true,” Phos said, “The three of us were the first to receive the Flame’s blessing, and the first to hear the voice of the Flame give the Hodos. Many cycles ago it became clear that we could take power any time we asked the people for it.”
“The people trust you,” Domos said. “You spoke with the Flame and called their power; of course we want you to lead us.”
“I could have been a queen,” Phos said, “Or maybe the three could have ruled together. Better than one perhaps, though had we come to disagreement we would have torn Eluthane apart. No it is better that no leader hold power over others for more than a cycle; that is the way of the Flame.”
Domos sighed and looked deep into the red fire burning in the hearth. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “And yet you still lead by not,” he said looking up at her. “Even still I’ve only been a priest a few cycles; I feel unprepared to lead in the face of…” he stopped short, not knowing what they faced.
“The dark in the woods?” Phos suggested, and shook her head. “You were elected to lead the priesthood because I and the other priests trusted you to fill that role. And for this cycle you will. But you are not the only leader in Eluthane, nor do leaders act alone.”
Luo chuckled to himself, “I guess I’m not the only one elected to lead their workers’ group feeling inexperienced.” He looked up and offered a sympathetic grin to Domos.
“I think the older hunters thought it would be fun to let me lead on my second cycle with them,” he added. “I accepted, knowing they’d help me along. Though had I known what we would face I would have refused.” Luo shook his head.
“None of us saw this coming,” Domos said, looking up at the hunter.
“Still someone is going to need to go back into the woods, and I’m afraid to.”
“Light of the Flame keep you,” Phos uttered as she pulled her son to her. “You are perhaps the only member of your party well enough to lead a group into the woods, but you won’t go alone.”
“You don’t intend to go yourself, do you?” Domos asked, alarmed.
“I do,” Phos replied flatly.
“But the darkness, if it’s the Skotia… You’re not so young, could you face it?”
“If it’s the Skotia, the Flame will face it. That power was broken before; it can be broken again,” Phos said. “Though I don’t intend to go just the two of us. I would ask you to send others with us.”
Domos nodded, “I’ll need to inform the Eluthane council, and ask them to release provisions for you. I’ll also ask the aid of the forestry counsel, I’m sure they will want to send one of their own.”
As Domos spoke, Dendra stepped in from a corridor where she had been lurking, “I couldn't help but listen in,” she said. “If you’re going to ask the foresters for help, I would like to volunteer,” she said.
“But your family…” Phos said.
“My husband and children are safe at home, but my mother and brother are heading into the woods.”
“Besides I’ve been stuck here since everyone exposed to the hunting party is under quarantine. The only help I can give in the Temple is to fetch herbs and water from the mine. But I’m not a housekeeper; I’m a member of the forestry team. Being exposed makes it logical that I should be the one to go.”
“She’s right,” Domos said, and Phos gave him a level gaze.
“I suppose so,” she said finally.
Domos suppressed a sigh of relief when Phos accepted her daughter’s aid, but there were more that were needed for this expedition. “As for priests,” he started, “I recommend Aithos. He may have only joined the priesthood recently, but his time studying herbs and mundane healing among the drow has made him the most skilled among us.”
“Isn’t he needed here? I can…” Phos questioned.
“I know you can call the Flame to heal,” Domos cut her short, “but you are also a mortal with limited strength. Take Aithos. We have enough healers to care for the sick, and I would be remiss if you didn’t take the best where you go.”
Phos laughed, “I see we were right to elect you after all.”
Domos chuckled in return. Then said, “We will need to make sendings to report our plans and request for aid to the People’s Council and workers’ councils in the morning. I would ask you to join me in the hallowed space below to cast them.”
To this Phos nodded.
~~~
The next day, replies came well before noon by messenger. Their plan accepted, and provisions for several days released, Dendra waited near the Temple entrance with her pack and equipment prepared.
It wasn’t long before the others joined her and they set out. The woods were a little way beyond the edge of town. Their path took them within sight of the forestry station, and she longed to stop there to retrieve some of her tools, but restrained herself. Her colleagues would be on staff there, and it wasn’t known if she could spread the malady the hunters suffered.
Even still, she was relieved to be back in the woods. The air of the warm summer forest carried her, though she found relief to be in the woods incongruous with the dread she felt for the dark her brother described. Even still as they walked it was hard to believe that anything could be… She stopped suddenly in her tracks.
“Dendra?” her mother called.
“These trees are sick,” Dendra said, gesturing to the yellowed pine forest.
“It looks like a blight,” Aithos said, coming up behind her, “Isn’t that relatively common?” he asked.
“It is,” Dendra said, “but I was here just a few days ago gathering fallen wood, and there was no sign of it then. It's spread to parts of the tree that aren’t commonly infected as well. For it to have spread this fast…'' she cut short. “Was the forest like this during your hunt?” she asked Luo.
“I… I don’t know,” he said.
“We need to keep moving,” Phos said. “Luo take us the way your hunting party went.”
Luo nodded, but before they could leave, Dendra stopped them, “Please, I need to collect samples. I want to compare them with other parts of the woods.”
Their mother nodded and Dendra went to work collecting and cataloging samples.
~~~
Luo had been anxious about returning to the woods since escaping with his hunting party. Then when Dendra highlighted that illness was in the trees as well, his unease mounted.
Nominally he had been asked to lead their expedition. Even still he found himself deferring to his mother wherever he could. So far she had spared him one of her lectures, yet he worried that his deference annoyed her.
With the stress of the expedition, he found his mother and sister intimidating, so it was a relief when Aithos decided to walk with him. Though Luo had missed him, he felt unsure how to talk to the man since his return. Yet the priest chattered with Luo now as easily as though he had never left.
“See that plant over there? The one with the conical blades and the purple flowers?” Aithos was saying.
Luo nodded as he looked in the direction the priest was pointing.
“That plant has an edible bulb,” he said, “It's a bit pungent, like an onion.”
Luo smiled in spite of his worry. His friend had always been fascinated by this sort of thing. Ever since they learned that dandelions were edible as children, Aithos had taken an interest in wild plants. Despite the dread they faced, hearing his old friend's voice eased his mind.
“Hmm,” Aithos said, placing his hand on Luo’s shoulder to get his attention, “What animal leaves droppings like that?”
Luo blinked. He hadn’t been paying attention. It was the sort of thing a hunter notices, but lost in his thoughts he didn’t see it until he was made to.
Coming closer he took a look. At first they didn’t seem like anything he recognized. “I think it’s one of the sick animals. Caribou probably, though they're not holding together the way you’d expect.”
“I see,” Aithos said. “If it’s a sick animal, I’d like to see it. Do you think you could help me find the one that left this?”
Luo looked to his mother. They had already been walking most of the day, but it would be hours still before the sun set.
“It's a good idea to look into,” she said. “We had probably better set up camp before it gets too much later anyhow. We’ll set that up while you go.”
Not far from the droppings they found a narrow path used by wildlife. Luo scanned the area for signs of the direction the deer went. A bend in the underbrush suggested something had recently moved through there. The ground on the path was covered by fallen pine needles occasionally disturbed, exposing the soil below.
“This way,” Luo beckoned Aithos to follow.
The path carried them for some time as Luo watched for signs that the animal had left the trail. Eventually they heard something move around a bend. Luo stopped and drew his bow as they rounded the path, and his body tensed, afraid of what would meet them.
Aithos caught his arm. “Stop, it's just a deer,” he said as the animal tried to stand and failed.
Luo exhaled deeply as he lowered his bow. “Thanks,” he said.
Aithos patted his back, “Are you alright?” he asked.
Luo rested his arm on Aithos’s shoulder, letting himself lean into him a little as he caught his breath, finding comfort in his friend’s touch. “I will be,” he said.
Aithos rubbed his back for a moment as Luo’s breathing returned to normal. “Good,” he said. “I need to examine the animal; can you help hold it down?”
Luo nodded as his wits returned to him.
The caribou struggled only for a moment before it lost strength to resist. Aithos ran his hands over the animal's neck, and examined its mouth and eyes.
“Did you study animal medicine?” Luo asked as the priest worked.
“No,” Aithos said, “but there are enough similarities between people and animals that I have an idea of what I’m doing.”
Luo nodded. “And?” he asked.
“Well despite the droppings, I’d say this animal hasn’t eaten in several days. But also, when people are sick there are parts of the neck and throat that swell. If deer are similar, I can’t find them.”
“What does that mean?” Luo asked.
“I don’t know. But the hunters were the same. Clearly ill, but certain signs were missing that indicate disease.”
Luo shivered, “We should go. I want to get back to the others before dark.” Aithos agreed.
~~~
Not far from the trail where they had departed, Aithos and Luo found the others camped near a narrow stream of snow water from the mountains above.
Phos sat praying near a fire while Dendra examined the plant samples she had gathered.
“What did you find?” Phos asked as they approached.
Aithos described the animal they found wasting away as the others listened.
“So it is the same with the trees then,” Dendra said.
“What do you mean?” Luo asked.
“It's just these needles I’ve been looking at. With a blight you would expect to see color banding, or spore dimples, but there aren’t any. From afar the trees look blighted, but it's almost as if they’re just dying.”
A chill ran through the camp. Aithos watched as Luo left his side to sit on a fallen log; his tail twitching in agitation. Signs of distress were apparent on the others as well.
Aithos sat on his own and took food from his pack to distract himself from the apprehension that gripped him. The others did so as well, and at least tried to eat in silence. Before long though his appetite failed him. Standing, he unstrapped his kettle, filled it from the stream, and heated it by the fire. Then, withdrawing a bundle of herbs from his pack, he selected a few and added them to the water.
Twilight was coming on as he finished preparing the tea, which he took to the others. “This should ease your sleep,” he said, offering the kettle to Dendra and Phos.
“Thank you,” Phos said, taking it and pouring cups for her daughter and herself.
When he took the kettle to Luo, the hunter jumped as he approached. “I’m sorry,” Luo said, catching his breath.
“Are you alright?” Aithos rested his hand on the hunter’s back, and he could feel the man next to him trembling.
“I…” Luo stammered, “I’ve never been afraid of the dark before, but tonight it’s oppressive.”
Aithos draped his cloak over both of them as he sat with an arm over Luo’s shoulder, and the other man collapsed into him weeping as Aithos stroked his back.
After a moment, Aithos unfastened his horn lamp from where it was tied to his hip. Lighting it, he uttered a blessing, “Joyous I rest in Flame’s light. Steadfast her ward preserves my will.” As he spoke, he drew his hand from the lamp and touched the cloak covering them. Suddenly it shone, and a pool of warm red light filled the clearing.
“The Flame’s light will guard us tonight,” he said, and Luo smiled weakly, though worry still showed on his face. Aithos hesitated. He liked Luo. He had for a long time. But he wasn’t sure the hunter could feel the same. Still he offered. “If you like,” he said timidly, “I can stay with you tonight.”
Luo grasped his arm and whispered, “I’d like that,” through his tears. Then pulling him into an embrace, Aithos finally felt the hunter relax.
~~~
Phos was relieved when morning’s light returned to the woods. Nights were short this time of year, and she sat silently to let the others rest as long as they could.
She smiled as she realized Luo and Aithos slept in each other's arms. It was the first time her son looked truly relaxed since escaping the woods the other day.
As quietly as she could, she arose and prepared a small fire for a morning offering. After heating a kettle she performed a ritual cleansing with ashen water. Soon the others began to stir and joined her.
“Oh Flame, keeper of my will, may your light guide our path,” she said, breaking a piece of bread and offering part to the fire. The remainder was passed around and each partook.
“How long before we reach the place where your team turned around?” she asked her son.
“Not too far, actually,” Luo said. “We had spent most of our time hunting before. Our path yesterday was far more direct.”
“Good,” Phos said, “we’ll take down camp and leave soon.”
“We really should try to eat before going,” Aithos said.
“I’m not sure I could.” Phos’s stomach soured at the thought of eating more than the morsel of bread from the offering.
“We can’t travel all day nor face the darkness hungry. I have herbs that can stimulate appetite; let me make a broth. At least that much will help.”
Food was the last thing Phos wanted now, but she knew Aithos was right, and she nodded.
Luo offered to help the young priest, which appeared to amount to following the young priest around while he worked and holding the occasional lid or spoon.
Before long the broth was prepared. After drinking, Phos’s stomach churned, and she was afraid it had only made her sick. But after a moment her nausea abated. Her appetite whet, she was able to eat a little more. “We had better move,” she said after eating. “Summer days are long but not endless.”
Again Luo guided them along the branching paths of the forest which he had traveled before. While still morning, the daylight seemed to dim, though no cloud obscured the sky, and the illness that plagued the forest worsened the further they went.
“The place we were forced to turn back is a little beyond this hill,” Luo said. His voice trembled as he spoke, but Aithos rested hand on his shoulder, and the hunter smiled as his gaze turned to the young priest. “Right,” Luo said, nodding, “Onward and upwards then.”
The path was steep, but soon cresting the hill, a valley stretched on before them.
“The trees!” Dendra cried looking out. “The forest is no longer dying here; it’s dead. This will take generations to recover, if we can help it at all.” She sank to her knees as tears fell to the dusty path.
“We will help it,” Phos said, raising her daughter up. “We will face the darkness, and we will help it. Eluthane will help it,” she said.
She fell into her mothers arms as she stood still sobbing, “It’s dead, so much dead,” she whispered. And Phos stroked her daughter’s back.
“More will die if we don’t continue,” Phos whispered. “We must save what we can.”
Dendra nodded, wiping the tears from her face. Breathing deeply she looked to her brother, “Down we go then.”
As they descended, the darkness deepened, when suddenly the world before Phos disappeared in the blackness. The sun was still overhead, though it appeared a dim star in an empty sky.
“Luo!” Phos called for her son, knowing his trauma.
“Mother?” her son’s voice quivered, “I’m with Aithos. His lamp gives us a little light. Can you see us? I don’t know where you are.”
She could see, just faintly, a burning light ahead of her. Lighting her own lamp, a pool of light surrounded her. The darkness seemed to press its weight against her, yet the light of her lamp persisted.
“Dendra!” She called, “Dendra where are you!”
“I can’t see anything, Mother help!”
Phos turned to the sound of her daughter's voice. Her sight extended only a few feet, but where she looked only dead trees were in her path.
“Aithos and I both have our lamps lit, can you see them?” Phos called.
Suddenly a terrible roar filled the air. “Dendra!” Phos howled.
Fear gripped the elderly priestess as she sank to her knees and recited a prayer in desperation. “The light of the Flame shone forth in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.” As she uttered the prayer an aura of light rose up from the Flame that danced on her lamp, pushing back the darkness surrounding her with dawn’s light.
“Mother!” Dendra called. Phos saw her now, where she had lost the path in the darkness. But then she turned as her daughter pointed back toward the path. “Dragon!” Dendra cried.
Turning, she beheld a towering dragon standing before them wreathed in shadow. Luo and Aithos stood at the dragon’s feet, bow drawn and lamp held aloft.
“Oh Flame be my shelter!” Aithos called, and at the same time as Luo loosed an arrow, a great radiant Flame burst from his lamp as an arrow struck the dragon’s wing. The shadowy form reeled in pain then roared as it retreated.
“A dragon?” Aithos cried. “Has Liliq come after us at last?”
“I don’t think so,” Phos said. “I doubt a god could be turned back by such an assault as you provided, though a mortal dragon seems no more likely.”
“How do we fight a dragon?” Luo asked.
“We don’t. At least not any dragon I’ve heard of. Yet we must face it again,” Phos said, “at least to persuade it to leave Eluthane in peace.”
~~~
They had come further now than Luo had come with his hunting party. Even still, he led them through the woods. Though the darkness pressed around them, his mother’s lamp shone with the Flame’s light, enough to see the way the dragon fled.
“Odd,” Luo said as the dragon’s tracks led them off the path. “Why didn’t the dragon fly away?”
“Did we injure their wings?” Aithos asked.
“I don’t think so,” Luo said. “Not enough to stop them from flying.”
“It's almost as if they forgot they were a dragon,” Dendra said.
“You…” Phos started and hesitated, “You might be right. Dragons, even mortal ones, are ancient cunning beings. This one seems more a beast than any lore I know would suggest.”
“If that’s true,” Luo said, “we will meet them soon enough if they continue this path.”
“You mean the mountain?” Dendra asked.
“I mean the cliffs,” Luo said. “On a lucky hunt we corner game here. The dragon is heading straight for them.”
Though Flame’s light allowed them to see their path, the darkness before them became darker than black, the world beyond a void. Phos started singing the songs of her people’s liberation and the light of her lamp burned brighter, and again still as the others joined in the song.
The light of their lamps pressed back further as the song progressed. Then the cliffs and dragon came into view. Dendra and Luo both raised their bows and Aithos his lamp.
“No,” Phos said in almost a whisper, “lower your weapons. We mustn't harm them.”
Then continuing her song, Phos pressed forward, and the dragon roared, yet no breath of fire came. Persisting in her song, the light of the Flame was wreathed about her as she neared the shadowy dragon.
New bonds they forged made from trust
Together now to fend
And called the Flame to aid them
Poneros’ rule to end
With fire held against the sword
For lord no more to bend
She continued and reached out toward the dragon as she sang the final chorus.
For together alone we shall be free,
we shall be free!
For together alone we shall be free.
As the last lines were uttered the dragon reached their claw to the priestess’s outstretched hand, and the light of the Flame enveloped them both.
Where once was shadow now a great brass dragon shone in the evening sun as both Phos and the ancient being sank to the ground.
~~~
Phos awoke to find Aithos examining her. “You’re awake,” he said, and sighed in relief. “Can you drink?” he asked, and Phos nodded. He poured a cup of some brew he’d made and passed it to her, and she drank. “You’ll need energy if we are to find a safe camp before nightfall,” he said.
“What of the dragon?” Phos asked after drinking.
“Still unconscious, though I don’t know how long before they rouse. We should go quickly.”
“No,” Phos said, sipping the tea. “They need our help. Please prepare to camp here tonight, and help me with the dragon’s wounds.”
Aithos hesitated. “Are you sure?” he said, casting a troubled glance toward the creature.
“By Flame’s light, yes I am sure,” she said.
He nodded. “In that case, may the Flame keep them,” Aithos said before he left to help the others set up their bed rolls.
The tea did rouse her faculties, and she found eating easier than it had been in the morning, and more satisfying. She considered the great dragon that lay next to her. Though the shadow had fled, the being it had possessed was left extremely weak.
She stood and rested her hand on the ancient one’s side. They were cold. She knew this dragon should have a breath of fire, yet they were cold. “O Flame, guardian of my will,” she said bringing forth her lamp, “warm and defend the life of this being.”
The Flame shone deep scarlet as she prayed, and though the brass clad creature remained unconscious, warmth returned to their breathing.
~~~
Luo sat in the evening twilight watching Aithos and his mother attend to the fallen dragon. Though darkness now fell on the valley, his fear no longer held him. He could still feel it at the back of his awareness, yet since Aithos held him through the previous night he found himself able to relax knowing his friend was near.
Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t realize that Dendra had sat down next to him. “Where have you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been using the last of the daylight to survey the woods,” she said, and showed him some samples she had collected.
Luo frowned. In the firelight he couldn’t make much of what she’d collected. Pine cones and dry plants as far as he could tell. “So how is it?” he asked.
Dendra sighed. “The forest is dead,” she said. “Well, mostly dead,” she corrected herself.
Luo looked at her confused.
“Throughout the area I was able to survey, the trees, undergrowth, and most animal life were all dead.”
Luo slumped where he sat as he took in the news of the devastation.
“But,” Dendra continued, “the seeds in these pinecones are still viable. The seeds of the other plants were too.”
“What does that mean?” Luo asked.
“It means that even though the mature plant life has perished, these still have a chance to grow. It means we can help the forest live again.”
He smiled. His sister’s optimism gave him hope that the animals of the forest would too recover in time. Though with so much of the forest devastated he didn’t know how long it could take.
They sat together silently for a while when his sister smiled suddenly as though musing on something entertaining. “So, you and Aithos,” Dendra said, looking at him with a grin. “You two have been cozy.”
Luo felt himself blush and was glad his sister couldn’t see it. “Oh, um… yeah I guess we have been.” He scratched his head behind his horns.
“So is it romantic, or did he just help you make it through the night?”
“Umm…” Luo said, realizing he wasn’t sure, “I don’t know.”
“If it helps…” Dendra paused. “Well perhaps it’s nothing, but he’s asked me about you a few times since returning to Eluthane. I know you two were friends but I got the feeling he likes you. I would have said something before, but I didn’t think you would return his feelings.”
“To be honest, I didn’t know I would either but…” he cut short. “I need to talk to him,” he said, leaving his sister’s side.
~~~
It was dark when Aithos finished applying a poultice to the various wounds the dragon had sustained while held by the shadowy force. He only hoped his work helped. The creature was incredibly weak despite their size, and he knew almost nothing of their anatomy.
He gazed into the fire they had lit near the dragon and found Phos calling the Flame for a blessing.
“I think they'll live,” he said to her as she finished her prayer. “They’ll recover with time and rest.”
“I hope so,” she said. “It would be a shame for one of the gods’ kin to pass this way.”
Aithos frowned, “You should rest as well; we won’t be any help exhausted.”
“I will soon,” she said. “I would like to make an offering to the Flame in thanks for her aid today. Would you join me?” she asked.
Aithos started to nod, but halted as he noticed Luo stand and walk toward them from where he’d been sitting with Dendra.
“I would,” Aithos answered, “but I think I might be needed by someone else.”
Phos looked in the direction of the camp and chuckled as she saw her son approach. “Go take care of him,” she said earnestly, and patted his hand.
Aithos nodded and left to meet Luo in his path. “I…” Luo started and paused as his tail twitched. “Would you walk with me for a bit?” he asked finally.
Aithos smiled and considered the man standing before him. “It’s dark; will you be alright?” he asked, remembering the night before.
“Your lamp should be enough for tonight,” Luo answered. Aithos nodded and followed the hunter on the path in the dark. They walked silently for some time before Luo eventually spoke. “I wanted to ask you about last night.”
Aithos stopped. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” His hand tremembed as he realized he had left unspoken his feelings for the other man.
Luo turned and looked at him, his face lit only by the lamp light. “No, it’s not that,” he said, “I desperately needed you last night.” Luo reached out and fell just short of touching Aithos’s face. “When you held me last night though, I realized I had missed you, perhaps more than I would a typical friend.”
“I missed you a lot too,” Aithos responded.
“Which is to say,” Luo paused and looked down for a moment, “I think I love you.” he said, bringing his gaze back up to face him.
Aithos felt his eyes burn and his vision blurred as tears welled up. He took hold of the other man and buried his face in Luo’s chest, weeping. The hunter wrapped his strong arms around him, and in the comfort of the embrace he inhaled deeply the man’s scent, and clutched him tighter.
“I think I love you too,”Aithos whispered, “which is to say I have for a long time.”
The touch of Luo’s hand raised his chin, and the hunter gazed into his eyes and smiled before bringing their faces together. Gently he touched his forehead to Aithos’s then caressed his cheek with his nose, before finally they kissed.
“That was nice,” Luo said softly, as his lips came away.
Aithos chuckled and kissed him back; the hunter’s hand holding the back of his head. “Your mother and sister are just over there,” he said, feeling Luo’s hand travel the length of his spine to the base of his tail.
“Should we walk further on then?” Luo asked with a grin.
Aithos chuckled, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
~~~
~~~
When Phos awoke, she again found the others still asleep. She stood before the brass dragon in dawn’s greenish light. Then holding aloft her lamp, she offered a blessing before preparing a fire for her daily rituals.
As the others roused, she beckoned them over to share a meal with her and the Flame.
“The dragon’s still unconscious then?” Aithos asked as he and Luo sat down together by the fire.
“So it would appear,” she said, watching the creature resting beneath the cliff. “Though their breath does seem much easier this morning.”
“Do you think they will awaken soon?” Dendra asked as she approached the fire.
Phos shrugged. “Flame willing,” she said. “Whatever power killed the forest held the dragon directly. I can’t say what to expect after that.”
“Still,” Phos said, standing before the fire, “we should eat. I for one am very hungry after eating little for days.” Before eating, she again performed a ritual washing in order to make an offering to the Flame.
“Oh Flame, keeper of our wills, breaker of bonds,” she began, and the fire deepened to a near crimson Flame as she continued. “May your light ever guide our path of liberation and strengthen our labors.” As she spoke, she placed a bit of bread and poured a libation of wine onto an offering stone in the fire ring, which in time was consumed.
The meal she had set out was a simple one of cheese, bread, and onion, served with tea. They ate in silence for a while when a sudden rumbling shook the land. “What an odd spirit you pray to,” a deep resonant voice reverberated around them. Phos’s eyes met the dragon’s who now watched them.
“So you’re awake,” Phos said trembling. “Flame preserve us.”
“As you say we are preserved, though a rare thing indeed for people to call on powers other than my elder kin,” the dragon said in a slow drawn out speech.
“Who are you?” Aithos asked, his hands shaking as he clutched his lamp. Phos waved her hand for him to lower it. Yet he remained frozen in the dragon’s stare until her son took the young priest’s hand.
“We’ll be alright,” Luo said to Aithos as the priest relaxed and returned the lamp to the ground beside him.
The dragon's chuckle shook the ground, “Your friend is right,” they said. “Had I wished you harm I would not have spoken. As for my name? It’s not so easily spoken by your kind, but in your tongue I might be called Arete.”
The dragon paused, humming for a moment before continuing. “I am grateful to you, to be free from that shadow. Though I’m curious about the Flame you called. Powers of destruction aren’t known for their ability to preserve.”
“A power of destruction?” Phos questioned.
“Yes,” Arete said in their droning voice, “A primal force, that. I did not know it capable of hearing prayers, nor make answer. How did it come by your veneration?”
“It wasn’t that long ago,” Phos found herself shaking having to explain her faith to a god kin, “when we called to other gods with great need, yet for generations we were not answered.” She breathed deeply, stilling herself. “I’m not sure why we started praying to the Flame. Perhaps it was because fire was the one comfort we had. But no matter the case, the Flame answered. She rescued us from bondage, and as such we established a bond of reciprocity.”
“She?” Arete tasted the word as though pondering something, “I did not expect such a personal word as she.” They hummed again without speaking, taking in the information. “It would seem with the Flame as your patron, you have lifted each other. Interesting. The others may be curious to know.”
Phos didn’t understand what the dragon meant, though other matters weighed on her more. “What was it that possessed you, if I may ask?” she said, averting her eyes from the dragon’s watch.
“You may ask, though I do not know. I hardly remember how I came to your land. I did not know such powers still existed in this world.”
“Still?” Phos asked.
Arete smiled in a way that only a dragon can, and then appeared to think better of something, “Never mind that,” they said. “It grieves me to learn my elder kin didn’t hear you in your times of need. Yet I am glad for your patron’s rescue. Relieved that the blight I carried did not spread further,” the dragon said as they surveyed the dead forest.
“I’m curious though,” Arete returned their attention to the Eluthanai, “what do you make of my elder kin?”
Phos considered the dragon and thought carefully how to answer such a powerful being. “We respect them to be sure,” she started, “Some here make offerings to them, but as a people we have no formal cult for their worship.”
“I see,” Arete said. “It is no matter to me if you keep their ways, though extending offerings of friendship to the gods can be… helpful,” the dragon said finally.
“Your words are taken into account,” Phos said. “But our way can neither compel nor forbid such things,” Phos said. “The Flame works with any who value liberation, trust and benevolence. I suppose that is for gods as much as it is for mortals. But I don’t know what to expect from gods that left my people bound for generations.”
Again the ground shook as the dragon laughed, “Ha, ha, ha. I see my elder kin have much to atone for,” Arete said. “Though I wonder if perchance you would allow me to leave you with a gift? I am no god, nor am I strictly mortal such as god kin are. Please is there something I can bless to offer friendship to you and your Flame.”
Phos was at a loss, unable to imagine what they might ask a dragon for, but suddenly Dendra stood. “Please,” her daughter pleaded, “The darkness that followed you destroyed much life in the forest. Could you restore it?”
Arete hung down their head, “So much loss I cannot undo,” the dragon said. “However if there is any life to be found here, I can help it thrive.”
Then Phos watched as her daughter brought a bundle of cones and other seeds of the forest. “I’ve gathered these. The seeds are the only things to survive in the forest surrounding us. Could you bless them?”
The dragon nodded. “Place them before me, and I will.”
Dendra bowed lightly, and Arete greeted her likewise as she unfurled her bundle of seeds before them.
Then bringing their claw lightly over the bundle, the dragon spoke. “With regret I weep for the destruction I brought to these woods,” Arete said as tears fell from their eyes. “With heavy heart I ask the land’s forgiveness.” The tears flowed now onto the seeds and the soil below. “May the virtue of my blessing lend vitality. May the Flame preserve this land in my absence.”
Where the dragon wept, a sapling already took root from among the seeds. “Take these,” Arete said to Dendra. “Wherever you plant these, life will flourish.”
Dendra again gathered up the remaining seeds. “Thank you,” she said, weeping, “Thank you.” And Phos drew her daughter into a tight hug.
Then Arete looked at the sky as if reading something from the blue. “Would that I could remain with you, but the others must know of the power that befell me. May your Flame watch over you and your people.”
With that the dragon took flight and vanished over the mountain.
The evening sun was warm for this late in the summer in Eluthane. They might even be spared the autumn freeze longer than usual, Hiereus thought as he walked with a basket of goods from the storerooms below the Temple.
Though the Eluthane counsel oversaw the work, the Temple priesthood was responsible for distributing goods to each family. Every week most of the city would come to the green outside the Temple to exchange empty baskets for one full of allotted provisions.
Most got the same each week, though requested items would often be included. Books from the Temple library, toys for children, clothing, or materials for hobbies and work.
While most came to the green themselves, some couldn’t each week, and for that the priesthood delivered items to homes. This brought Hiereus to the door of Patos, a man he had seldom met.
No sound came from the home when he knocked. “Patos, are you home?” he called. “It’s Hiereus, you know Phose’s son. My sister and I were recently made priests.” His mother let him know this might happen, still he waited a bit.
“I have your food, and the book you requested.” still no answer. “I wanted to know if you needed anything I can bring you next time?” Something shifted inside and then silence; at least he knew Patos was home even if he didn’t respond. “I can just leave this at your door for you. Send word to the Temple if you need anything else,” he said setting down the basket before leaving.
He had walked a few yards off when the door opened. “Wait,” the man’s voice called, “I need you to return my empty baskets.”
Hiereus smiled as he returned to the house.
“I… Um…” Patos started, “have two baskets to send back with you, and a pot that I finished the preserves from a month ago.” He retreated into his home to find the baskets.
With the door left open Hiereus could see inside. Wooden and ceramic figures of animals, people, trees, and so forth were displayed on shelves on the far side of the room. The detail and liveliness of the art was exceptional.
He had seen some of Patos’ work before. Occasionally his work came through the Temple to either be exported or given to members of the community. Hiereus’ friend Luso had grown up playing with a wooden fox that Patos made.
“Oh, thank you,” Hiereus said, accepting the stack of baskets and a carefully cleaned pot. “I have to say your sculptures are lovely.”
Patos smiled vaguely, “Thanks,” he said, “I haven’t made anything for a while.”
“Still, you’re very good at it.” Patos nodded and looked uncomfortable so Hiereus changed the subject, “Is there anything you need, or would like me to bring next week?”
“Hmm…” Patos made his expression blank and visibly shrank, “I think I’ll just read this book. I, um, haven’t felt like much recently, and with winter coming… I don’t know.” He looked down as he spoke and trailed off at the end of each sentence before starting the next.
“It’s fine if you don’t have anything to ask for. I’ll be back next week and you can let me know if you think of anything.” Hiereus offered him a friendly smile. “In the meantime, may the light of the Flame keep you and your home.” He waved as he offered the blessing.
“You as well,” Patos said, stepping back as if preparing to shut the door, and only stayed waiting for Hiereus to leave.
Hiereus smiled again and nodded before going, and he heard the door close behind him.
It was four weeks before Patos answered again.
“I brought your week’s food,” Hiereus called. The door opened, and Patos appeared, his expression blank as if he were hiding under a mask.
“I got a sending from your mom. She said I had to answer for you today or she would come herself. I didn’t respond, but you can tell her that I answered?”
Hiereus frowned a little, he felt bad that his mom had threatened him. It wasn’t much of a threat, though for Patos it was enough.
“I felt bad I haven’t finished the book yet, but it’s past time I returned it.” Patos said, offering the book back.
“Did you enjoy reading it?”
“Oh, it’s interesting and well written,” he let slip a frown as he looked down at it. “I tried to finish it today before you arrived, I’m only about half way through it though.”
“You know, no one has requested it, if you like I can enter the log that you need more time with it.”
“Oh don’t bother yourself,”
Hiereus offered a sympathetic frown, “Did you know it took me a long time to learn how to read?” he asked and Patos shook his head, “It was difficult for me, the letters seemed to jumble together, I still read slower than most people, so I get it if you need more time.”
“My problem’s not…” Patos started, but Hiereus cut him off.
“You were enjoying it weren’t you?” and Patos nodded, “Then I’ll get you more time, it's not any bother for me.”
Patos pursed his lips into what could almost be called a smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I suppose I ought to give you my empty baskets.” he went into his house to retrieve them.
He came back looking uncertain, “I,” he started, “I think I could try making something. Could you have some log sections sent up? I feel guilty not contributing when everyone else does so much.”
Hiereus nodded, and made a note of the request. His mother had explained Patos’ depression to him, and he wanted to express that it wasn’t necessary, reassure him he would be cared for even if he couldn’t work, such was the way of the Flame. Instead he said, “Your efforts are appreciated, I’ll have some wood sent over.”
“Thanks,” Patos said.
“May the light of the Flame bless you and your labors” Hiereus offered the blessing before leaving.
In the coming weeks Patos answered more regularly for him, and seemed less guarded. One day after exchanging baskets, Patos stopped him. “Wait,” he said. “I have some things for you to take back to the Temple.”
Before long Patos returned with some wooden figures, “I’m sorry it took me so long to make them.”
Hiereus looked at each of them and placed them in the basket. A caribou, an owl, and a horse, each lifelike and highly detailed.
“These are really impressive!” Hiereus exclaimed. “To be honest, I don’t know anything about woodworking so I hadn’t expected them before now.” He also hadn’t assumed Patos simply didn’t want to make them for his own enjoyment, but he left that part unsaid. “I’m sure whomever these go to will love them.”
“Do you know if they will stay in Eluthane, or be sent out with the trade goods?” Patos asked.
“I don’t know,” Hiereus confessed, “We always take into account the needs of the community first before sending items with our traders.”
“I always wonder how our work is regarded when it's sent out. I like to imagine my efforts bring joy to others. May the light of the Flame keep them strong wherever they go.”
“I’m sure they will,” Hiereus said, “I knew some of your work as a child, one of my friends had a fox you made. I’d keep something like this on display in my home, it's quite lovely.”
“I’m glad you like it. People seem to like my work,” he said. “Oh before I forget, these aren’t the only things I made for you to take back,” he added, retreating and coming back with a free form loaf of bread.
“I baked this a few hours ago. The Thuometha is in two days and I would be happy to know I contributed something.”
“My mom is taking over the role of chief priest from Eipen this year. I’ll talk to both of them and have it included. Thank you for this. Do you need me to bring any more flour to replace it?” he said.
“Oh, no. I don’t always eat it fast enough anyways. Thank you for taking my contributions.”
Hiereus nodded, “May the Flame’s light preserve your will.” He gave the blessing, and Patos returned it before leaving.
***
It was late in the evening after the Thuometha. Hiereus had been disappointed but not surprised when he realized Patos had missed the communal meal, and he had taken it on himself to set aside a pot with portions of each of the dishes to take up to the man’s home.
“Patos, It’s Hiereus, I brought food from the Thuometha.” The door opened and Hiereus could see the man had been crying.
“It’s getting cold out. Do you need to step inside?” Patos asked.
Hiereus nodded and came in.
“Thank you for bringing me some of the meal. I tried to come this year, but well I find it difficult to go places,” he said sitting at his table. “I don’t remember how many years it's been since I was able to go. I do miss it though, the celebrations, the community sacrifice, the red of an Euluthanai fire. I could see the braziers on the green from my window; that was nice.”
“I gave your loaf to my mom, they used it for the ritual.”
With that Patos eyes lit up, “Thanks for letting me know; I’m glad I had something to offer. I wish it were easier for me to go to such things.”
Hierus nodded, “I don’t know if you’re interested,” he said, “but the lighting of the kiln is in a couple weeks. It’ll be my first time taking part in a public ritual.”
“Oh, congratulations!” Patos said warmly, “I… Well I’ll try to go, but I can’t promise anything. I have a hard time with crowds. I haven’t been to a lot for a long time.”
“You know there is always someone at the Temple keeping the Flame under the central oculus. Throughout the night just one or two priests attend it at a time. My sister and I will be taking a turn day after tomorrow. You know me, and if you know me you pretty much know her. You said you missed seeing the red of an Eluthanai fire... if you came it would just be the three of us and the Flame.”
“That would be nice, I’ll probably take you up on that.”
Hiereus nodded, “I’d best be going, enjoy the food. It should still be warm in that pot.”
***
What was called spring elsewhere was more than half gone when the snow finally retreated in Eluthane. Patos never came to the Temple in the nights when Hiereus kept the flame, though he still delivered his baskets every week.
“Do you mind walking with me for a bit,” Patos asked one evening when Hiereus came.
“Sure there’s still plenty of daylight left,” he answered.
“Thanks,” Patos said, “I like to see the spring flowers on the hillside when they come. It's my favorite in the cycle of seasons.”
Hiereus gestured for Patos to lead on and they walked in silence. Occasionally a passer by would stop them to chat and Hiereus would talk and perform the expected niceties before continuing.
The hillside was speckled with little yellow and orange flowers, and they looked out at them for a bit. Later they walked past the edge of the forest where pine trees were just putting on new growth and the normally dark evergreens were speckled with young light green branches.
“Thank you,” Patos said as they approached his home again. “People are very welcoming, but I never know what to say to people if they want to talk. So thank you for helping me go out today.”
“It was no problem,” Hiereus said, “During the spring and summer at least I can probably go walking each week when I come.”
“Every week sounds like a lot for me, but thank you, I’ll let you know if I’m up to it,” he answered. “Oh before you go...” and Patos retreated into his house, and returned holding a wooden sculpture of a wind blown tree on a hill.
“I had thought to give this to you on a night when I visited you keeping the Flame at the Temple, but I don’t know when I’ll work myself up to go out at night. Anyways I made this when I was about your age.”
“This is…” he stopped, lost for words. “You were very talented even back then. Thank you.”
“I made that for my mother, and I’ve kept it since she died. I want you to have it now, because…” he hesitated, “you remind me of her in a way. I’m sorry. That’s a weird thing to say.” he chuckled nervously.
“It’s fine,” Hiereus said, looking down at the gift.
“I was saying before, Eluthane is welcoming, but I don’t know how to be with people, and very few take time to even silently spend time with me. Still I don’t know if I could survive anywhere else.”
“The Way of the Flame is a shelter,” Hiereus said.
“It is,” Patos responded.
They sat quietly for several minutes after that. “I should let you go,” Patos said, “it still gets very cold after dark, but thank you again for your time.”
“Thanks again, for the gift.” Hiereus said, standing, “It really is a treasure. Take care and may the Flame guard and guide your path.”
The early autumn air was pleasantly warm in the streets of Edrez as Hiereus set out. He would never call the city quiet, but at this hour the streets were subdued compared to the usual bustle of the city. Various tea houses attracted the only crowds as people started their days.
These were not his destination, not exactly, and he smiled as he thought about his errand. He wasn’t yet sure how he would transform the former cafe he purchased into a home for the Flame, but a home for the Flame it would be.
The ways of his people were so different from any place he had visited, he didn’t know how this city, the hub of the world, would understand a shrine dedicated to a god known by few outside of Eluthane.
It was one thing to say he worshipped the divine aspect of fire, another to help people understand why and how. At this thought he changed his course. He had been to the art district before and knew about where to find supplies for what he had in mind.
As he arrived, one of the shops had just opened, and a little bell rang as he stepped inside.
“One moment,” a voice called from the back of the shop.
Hiereus took in the supplies lining the shelves, and he was suddenly unsure what he was doing here. He had painted as a child, the way any young child would paint. He could of course write with a brush or quill, but the offerings here overwhelmed him.
“How can I help you?” a dwarven woman greeted him.
“I…” Hiereus hesitated looking around, “Do you have supplies for making signage?”
“Ha ha,” the woman laughed, “My offerings were made with fine arts in mind, but I think I can help you. What kind of signs are you making?” She said, taking out a notepad.
“I recently acquired a cafe; I’ll need to repaint its sign.”
“Right, then you will probably need a paint solvent to clean up the sign and weather-resistant paint to make a new one.” She jotted some notes.
“So this cafe of yours, do you need menu boards?” she asked.
It was Hiereus’ turn to chuckle, “Oh it won’t be a cafe when I’m done with it,” he paused for a moment, “But something like that would be useful; I need to display poetry and some sacred texts.”
The shopkeeper blinked; that wasn’t the response she had expected, “You’re turning a cafe into a temple?” she asked, “For which god?”
“You could call it a temple, or a shrine at least. I worship the Flame.”
“You mean like Hephaest? I know humans hold him in high regard. I would have guessed Liliq for a tiefling, but I know a fixation on death is a turn off for many of her children.”
“Oh no, the Flame is separate from Hephaest. It’s a liberating force, the divine aspect of fire itself. My people haven’t worshiped Liliq since the time of our bondage. It was the Flame that freed us and it is the Flame we worship.”
The dwarven woman nodded along, “I’ve heard of minor gods being elevated in status in remote places. I never thought one of their shrines would come to Edrez. This is Cerilius’ city you know.”
Hiereus laughed again, “She seemed a bit surprised herself when I made my request, and maybe a little guarded, but the goddess ultimately granted me an official permit to establish a shrine.”
“Well I’ll be. I might pay a visit to your shrine when it opens if Cerilius gave you her blessing,” she said before getting back to business. “I have wooden planks with a grain popular for painting on. How many do you think you’ll need? They’re about yay big,” she said holding her arms apart.
He paused as he thought about what messages he wanted to leave for visitors to the shrine. He could probably do what he wanted with ten but said, “Fifteen, and I’ll need some brushes for both large writing and fine writing, and just black paint for the sign making.”
Before long, the shopkeeper set him up with the items he requested, and with his bag packed he made his way to what had been “The Good Sipping Cafe Too”.
The place wasn’t in bad condition, but it was dirty and smelled of a place unused for too long. Unshuttering the windows let in much-needed daylight and fresh air, and already the atmosphere seemed much improved.
As he cleaned and removed dust, he found himself wondering what to do with the bar and stove for preparing hot drinks. This would be very different from the temple in Eluthane, and yet he realized in some ways it was the same.
His favorite holidays were the ones that featured communal meals, most of which were prepared in or just outside the temple back home. It was by chance he purchased a place that had been used for dining, and yet ritualized food preparation could be a useful aspect of this shrine’s function.
He smiled and he remembered it was early autumn; it would be about time for the Thuometha meal and harvest; how he missed it. He kept a bit of bread and drink stowed in his pack. He could perform the ritual in a more personal fashion.
Once the space was clean he turned his attention to the wood boards and the messages he would leave for visitors. The core portion of the Hodos, The Way of the Flame, would feature above the fireplace mantle. It took three of the planks to transcribe that alone.
Next he reproduced some of his favorite poems, on the same panel he juxtaposed the “Lady of Eluthane” and “Fury of the Flame”.
He let the “Flame of Longest Night” tell the story of his people’s liberation, and wondered how its last verse could be applied here.
And now we share our labors
No masters in our land
Impart to each what's needed
That Flame our hands unband
A sacrifice from each for all
Is freedom’s light command
For together alone we shall be free,
we shall be free!
For together alone we shall be free.
The people here were not slaves, but there were rulers, and masters, there was want and inequality. Those with disabilities were left to the whims of charity rather than assuredly cared for. Even still, perhaps knowing the Way of the Flame would help improve things here. He hoped a community would make use of the best ideals his people had to offer, and apply what they could.
He realized what he wanted to put on the sign hanging outside.
On one side, “My path is trust and benevolence, and as my way is kept your labors shall be blessed so that you may remain free.”
And on the other side, “Be generous with each other and let each who can, aid their fellow with vigor, and let none perish from lack or inability.”
Unless the Hodos was read in full inside the quotes would probably seem like an appeal to charity. It was a place to start however.
The remaining plaques he covered with descriptions of holidays, rituals, and blessings. The last he hung over the inside of the door an image of the Guardian Flame. Fire drawn curling around a circle as though protecting it. He used the image emblazoned on his prayer book as a guide to replicate it.
His plaques hung and the space cleaned, he sanctified the space with ash and uttered blessings. On either side of the fireplace there were two sconces, and in each he set a continual Flame which shone with brilliant red light.
Then lighting a natural fire, he offered the Thuometha ritual alone. At each step he offered the required blessings. He held his bit of bread and a wine skin, “For ourselves we sacrifice, for all from all,” he said and he gave some of the wine and bread to the Flame before eating some himself.
It was melancholy offering the ritual alone, and he wept as he recited the last line. “May we now all share the blessings of our labor, in the light of the Flame.”
The blessings of the Eluthanai were for people, more than they were for a person, and he missed his home so much.
Still as he finished his ritual he called on the Flame to hallow the place, and the radiance of the Flame filled the place, and daylight beamed from the fireplace even as the embers dwindled.
That made him smile, and yet he knew this place would be empty without him and his heart sank.
“The kobolds, Nathan might be interested!” He caught his breath, and held a bit of copper into the Flame of lantern. “I have established a shine to the Flame in Edrez, you no longer need to be a fugitive you are welcome here!” Hiereus made the sending for the kobold cleric.
'Neath hill in frozen northern land
Called Eluthane by name
Poneros bound the people there
And worthless toil came
Their wills destroyed by demon's power
The dark their souls did maim
O shadow their hearts did overtake,
did overtake!
O shadow their hearts did overtake.
And in those days of servitude
The gods heard not their prayer
And generations passed away
Their children were not spared
Left alone constrained to serve
Without a savior's care
Abandoned they toiled all their days,
toiled their days!
Abandoned they toiled all their days.
One Longest Night in lonely cell
Prayed Phlogos to the Flame
“O Hear my cry O small fire
on night when darkness reigns”
The Flame gave out a mighty flare
deep red its light became
That night to him shelter did come,
shelter did come!
That night to him shelter did come.
That morn their lord did call them
to mine on shortest day
But Phlogos found he could resist
the call and not obey
The others with him too were free
and sought to flee away
Chains on their minds the light did break,
light did break!
Chains on their minds the light did break.
“By Flame's light,” said Luo
“We find ourselves awake,
but should we flee now on our own
the guards would overtake
Let us take the Flame below
Bonds on friends to break
For together alone we shall be free,
we shall be free!
For together alone we shall be free.
Taking up her lantern
Phos carried down the Flame
In tunnels dark its light to guide
To families there, they came
The light reflected in their souls
And freed them each the same
Unbound they all cried and sang,
cried and sang!
Unbound they all cried and sang.
New bonds they forged made from trust
Together now to fend
And called the Flame to aid them
Poneros’ rule to end
With fire held against the sword
For lord no more to bend
Flame’s light be our shelter and keep,
shelter and keep!
Flame’s light be our shelter and keep.
And now we share our labors
No masters in our land
Impart to each what's needed
That Flame our hands unband
A sacrifice from all for each
Is freedom’s light command
For together alone we shall be free,
we shall be free!
For together alone we shall be free.
For my birthday my husband made a new illustration of my character Hiereus, the tiefling cleric. He’s shown here with a fire because his people worship a divine aspect of fire they call the Flame.
As a mother the Flame casts her warmth
Though in the deepest darkness
Her light fails not
In strange lands she is my companion
Custodian of my soul
Her way I keep
I fear not what may assail
For the Flame’s care
Is my shield
Joyous I rest in her light
Steadfast her ward
Preserves my will
My D&D character is a tiefling cleric who worships fire. I’ve been using Attic Greek as a stand in for the Infernal language, and I realized that the word for “Flame” I was using was feminine, so with this poem I explored a feminine divine aspect for my character’s god.
(I am the Flame which delivered you from the power of darkness. My path is trust and benevolence, and as much as my way is kept your labors shall be blessed so that you may remain free.)
The air of the Eluthane valley was warm and cold at the same time as summer waned. The daylight hours were still longer than the night, but today Hiereus and his people worked together to bring in their harvest before the hard autumn frosts.
“Hey,” his friend Luso called as he came up behind Hiereus, “Why are you wearing a tail sock?” his friend asked.
“What? It was cold this morning,” Hiereus said defensively as he thrust his sickle into the barley.
“Right,” said Luso, sounding skeptical, “It’s always cold in Eluthane, but you are literally sweating while wearing winter clothing in the summer.”
“Hmm…” Hiereus grumbled at Luso’s chiding, “I like to stay warm?” he responded as if asking a question.
“Uh huh…”
Hiereus’ ears drooped and tail sank, but still he stopped to unclasp and remove his tail sock and tie it around his waist before returning to work. The cool air came as a relief though he wouldn’t admit it. Still he grinned deeply as Luso walked beside him.
“Done with the squash already?” Hiereus asked as he cut again at the grain.
“Oh yeah,” Luso said, and Hiereus’ tail swished as his friend spoke. “We just finished hauling it into the temple; it’s almost time to prepare the Thuometha meal.”
Hiereus sighed, “By the Flame,” he said, as he looked at the extent of the barley fields remaining to be harvested. “Always the last to come in.”
“We do eat a lot of it.” Luso said with a chuckle, scratching behind his horns.
“Still, now that you’re here at least I’ll have someone nice to work with,” Hiereus grinned.
“Uh... most people are nice Hiereus.”
“Yeah, um right.” Hiereus' tail sank. He’d never had the will to tell Luso that he liked him. “I mean,” he said itching his ear, “it’s nice to work with a friend.”
Luso looked at his feet, “I’m not here to work the barley field.”
“What?” Hiereus wilted further as he realized his friend hadn’t brought a sickle.
“Sorry,” Luso said, “I just came to see what you were doing. I drew for meal prep after we brought the squash in.”
Hiereus put on a smile as his heart sank, “We each work for the liberation of all,” he recited the mantra.
“Right.” Luso chuckled, “As labors are shared, by the Flame we are blessed,” he recited in return. “Alright then I’d best be going”
“Right,” Hiereus said, “Um… I’ll be performing in the sacrifice tonight. Save me a seat for the meal?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” Luso smiled, “I’ve got to go, see ya.”
Hiereus waved “May the light of the Flame guard your path,” he said as he watched Luso go.
***
When work on the barley field finally wrapped up, Hiereus’ arms and back were sore and thoroughly worked. He stretched as he made his way up through the town green past the Temple and the step kiln to his family’s small home.
Once inside he stripped out of his work clothes and washed from a pail of tepid water. He shivered from the coolness yet compared to working in the sun, even in Eluthane, he found it a relief.
He found his priestly garb on a hook near the stove, and as he reached for them his hand brushed the robes left by his sister. It had been just over a year since Moira left. They still received the occasional letter from her. The last one came from Edrez where she searched the temples of the world’s gods.
The city was sometimes called the Hub of the World, being the home of a goddess, and a center of trade and learning. Hiereus trembled thinking about it, he would feel lost in such a city and he worried about his sister out in the world.
She had been gone so long, and yet part of him still expected to see her when he went out, or to greet him when he went to the temple.
He sat for a moment after he finished dressing, and surveyed his family's belongings and took in its emptiness. Then standing, he rested his hand on his sister’s vestments. “May the light of the Flame guide you home,” he said before leaving.
Outside the smells of food wafted up from the green. The meal of the community sacrifice would start soon and he had his role to play. This festival was probably his favorite of the year. It wasn’t the most holy–that was Longest Night–but the communal meal, sharing in the culmination of his people’s labor for the year, they were always the part of the liturgical cycle he loved the most.
“Ah, I see the Flame has finally led you here,” said Mutha, the recently-elected chief priest.
“By the Flame, I’m sorry, the barley harvest, it ran late,” Hiereus apologized breathlessly.
“Aw, pay her no mind,” said Molu, Mutha’s wife, as she waved him into the Temple. “You’re here now, and it’s not like we’d start without you child.”
“I’m a priest too you know,” he protested with a grin already knowing their answer.
“We know, child,” Mutha said patting Hiereus on the back, “But we’ve been in the priesthood for over 62 cycles.”
“To us you’ll always be child,” Molu finished.
Hiereus chuckled, “I guess being called child is my fate,”
“You and most of the priesthood, my dear,” Mutha said.
“You should go meet your mother,” Molu said, “I think you’re the last one here. Let her know it’s time to start the ritual.”
Hiereus nodded and headed off toward the central Flame under the oculus. His mother had been the chief priest in the last cycle of seasons and tonight’s sacrifice would be her last act in that role as it was handed over to Mutha.
His mother Phose smiled and then pulled her son into a hug when he approached. “Good, you’re ready. How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Um… fine?” Hiereus answered.
“Glad to hear it,” she responded cheerfully in a way that let Hiereus know his answer hadn’t been satisfactory. “Do you feel practiced enough? You were given an important role tonight.”
“Yeah ma, I practiced. It will be good.”
“Good, I’m glad you feel confident,” she pulled him into another hug, “I know you get nervous leading a ritual.”
“Ma,” Hiereus sounded abashed, “I’ll do fine.”
“I know you will, sweety, I just want you to know you will.”
Hiereus felt his face flush, and he smiled, “Thanks ma, I really think I’ll be fine.”
“Good, we should get going. The people are waiting, and hungry,” Phose said to Hiereus and the priesthood gathered in the Temple.
He followed his mother with the others out to the town green. It was dusk and brazers had been lit, speckling the assembly of his people in the Flame’s light as daylight waned.
They stopped before a pyre and Phose opened a pouch of ash and began marking a circle round them and the pyre, sanctifying the space for the ritual. When this was done each of the priests came to her and washed their hands as the ritual began.
It was now Hiereus’ turn to speak. Unfastening his lamp from his belt he watched the crowd that had gathered. His people numbered little more than what the rest of the world called a small town, but even still a few thousand people occupied the green in front of him.
He trembled a little removing the cap from the end of the horn lamp and adjusted its wick. These people all knew him and he knew them. Still it was an effort to keep breathing and nerves even. Then he smiled as he saw Luso in the front with a space saved beside him, and he felt ready.
“The light of the Flame brings liberation; its way is freedom through benevolence,” Hiereus recited as he lit the wick of his lamp. Its light turned crimson as the blessing was uttered, and he could feel its warmth reflected in his soul.
“The way of the Flame is given,” Phose picked up the next line, “and as we keep it our labors are blessed.”
The momentum of the ritual carried Hiereus now, and he turned to the pyre and stooped and lit its kindling with the others. At first smoke bellowed through the logs but soon gave way to the Flame’s deep red light as the fire spread.
“For inasmuch as a person cannot meet all their needs alone, you shall share your labors so that you may all have your needs met. For in sharing your work you shall be free from any one becoming your master,” Hiereus recited once the Flame reached its full height.
Mutha took the next line bringing a cup, and handing it to Hiereus as she spoke, “Let none perish from lack or inability.”
Hiereus nodded in thanks as he accepted the cup, and he could smell the sweet grain wine, fermented in the mine below the Temple.
Next his mother brought a loaf of barley bread. “Be generous with each other and let each who can, aid their fellow with vigor,” she said as she offered her son the loaf, and he exchanged his lamp. Not so much as part of the ritual, but to free his hands.
He held aloft the cup and loaf, and uttered the blessing the meal was named for. “Thuometha, tō panti, ek pantos,” or in the common tongue, “For ourselves we sacrifice, for all, from all.”
“As we have kept the way, our labors have been blessed. We give thanks to the Flame; we give thanks to the land.” As he spoke, he poured some of wine onto the embers of the fire.
After sipping from the cup himself, he offered it to his mother who drank and in turn offered it to Mutha.
Hiereus then tore the loaf. “May we now all share the blessings of our labor, in the light of the Flame.” He placed a part of the loaf in the fire and watched for a moment as the red flames began to consume it.
Then, as with the cup, he ate first before giving the loaf to Phose, and she partook then gave it to Mutha. The ritual not only marked harvest but also the past cycle of sessions and the formal passing of office between the two.
Upon its completion, half of the priesthood took baskets of bread and the other half wine skins to give to all assembled, and officially the harvest meal began.
After helping to distribute the loafs, he returned his basket to the Temple when his mother found him to return his lamp.
“You did really good tonight,” she said, handing him his lamp.
“Thank you,” he grinned, reflecting on the ritual.
“I mean it,” she said, “I was really proud of you as you performed the sacrifice,” and she squeezed his hand.
“We were all proud of you,” Mutha had come up behind him, “We’ve seen you grow a lot since joining our number. I wanted to thank you for the role you played tonight, and not just because I took your mother’s job. Keeping Thuometha is important for our people.”
“Thanks,” he responded, shyly scratching the stump of his horn. “It’s always been my favorite,” he added, before stooping to give the older woman a hug.
“Hiereus,” his mother said as he stood up, “you didn’t happen to see where pa and Rai were sitting did you?”
“I didn’t notice,” he admitted.
“We should go find them so we can eat.”
“You go, I was going to sit with Luso.”
“Oh,” she looked surprised, then smiled, “I think I saw him up front. You have fun then.”
“Thanks ma, I’ll see you back at home.” He waved as she went off into the crowd.
He turned back to the new chief priest. “Hey thanks again Mutha,” he said, “Your opinion means a lot to me.”
“You’re a fine young man Hiereus, I’m glad to have people like you in the priesthood,” she said patting his arm. “Now go find your friend, I’m sure he’s waiting. I ought to find Molu, knowing her, she’s probably already started eating.”
“Alright, I’m sure I’ll see you later. Enjoy your dinner.”
Mutha waved and went off as Hiereus went over to meet Luso. His friend smiled as he approached. “So what’s good?” Hiereus asked, sitting down.
“There's a spicy bread pudding I think you’ll like. It’s a bit too hot for me, but you liked those chilies the traders brought back last cycle.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that crop worked out even if they didn't turn red. I never know what to expect from new crops.” Hiereus said as he sat down and started serving himself.
“Yeah, new seeds usually fail this far north, but these took well enough.”
“Mmmm,” Hiereus savored the spicy bread pudding, “You’re right, I do like it. Mmmm.”
“I think I’ll stick with squash and potatoes myself,” Luso said flatly.
“Your loss,” Hiereus’ tail waved vigorously as he took another bite. “I thought you liked spicy food?”
“Hmm, not the chilies. Their heat does something weird to my tongue.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I’m not sure what you’re sorry about,” Luso said, “I just don’t eat them.”
“Fine, I’ll just be sure to eat your share of them then.” Hiereus grinned thinking about it.
Luso laughed, “Whatever you say bud.”
The air became cold as the stars started to appear, and Hiereus shivered. For a moment he wished he had his tail sock on, then his mind drifted and he wondered what it was like where Moira was.
“Hey, are you alright?” Luso shook his shoulder.
“Hmm?” Hiereus muttered, returning to the present moment.
“I was just saying that I was going to join the foresting team this autumn, and you didn’t seem to hear me.”
“Sorry, I was wondering how Moira was,” Hiereus smiled apologetically.
“Oh, yeah.” Luso frowned, “Have you heard from her recently?”
“Her last letter came with the returning caravan a few weeks ago,” Hiereus said. “She was in Edrez when she wrote it. She was going to try and find her way toward Ikurad soon.”
“Oh wow,” Luso responded, “she's gone a long way.”
“Yeah, I don’t think our trading caravans have seen as much of the world as she has. I’m not sure any Eluthanai has.”
Hiereus paused, staring up into the night sky. “Speaking of the caravans, did you like the cinnamon candy they brought back?”
“Oh yeah, it was good. Spicy, but not like the chilies. I finished mine a bit ago.”
“Well I saved some; if you like you can have one.”
“Wow, thanks Hiereus,” Luso said, taking a candy and popping it in his mouth. “I love these things.”
Hiereus chuckled, “Good, I’m glad.”
“You, know I could have traveled,” Luso said. “Or I thought I could. I wanted to join the caravans, but the world’s big. I’m not sure I’m up for it.”
“Me neither,” Hiereus said. “Still I always find myself wondering about the places Moira has been.”
“Yeah. It’s weird having her gone. I think the whole town misses her. But to be honest I had a mind to court her before she left. I never had the nerve to ask though.”
Hiereus’ heart sank as the meaning of Luso’s words set in, and his whole body drooped.
“Hey, something wrong?”
Of course Luso wasn’t like him; so few people were. He didn’t know why he imagined Luso would feel the same way he did. He realized he was trembling and tried to still himself. “It’s nothing,” he answered, realizing his eyes were getting hot with tears.
“It’s not nothing,” Luso said, “I think about it all the time, that perhaps if I had been a little braver maybe Moira would have stayed and you and I would have been brothers,” Luso chuckled.
Hiereus forced only the smallest semblance of a laugh in response, “I’m sorry” he said, “I just realized it's time to start cleaning up inside the Temple. I need to go.”
“Oh right,” Luso said, stunned by Hiereus’ sudden change in mood. “It seems a little early, but I’ll see you later then.”
He rushed into the Temple and as soon as he was out of sight started crying as he sank to the floor. His unease compounded as he heard someone approach from outside.
“Hmm,” He heard the voice of an older woman behind him. “You liked him a lot didn’t you?” Mutha said, patting him on the back.
“What?” Hiereus said, wiping his eyes.
“Tears like that only come from death or heartache, and no one’s died,” Mutha answered. “I don’t think I realized before tonight that you were like Molu and I. Should have seen it, the way you moon over your friend, but I didn’t give it any mind until you went off to sit with him tonight. Would that I had, I could have given some advice.”
“Advice?” Hiereus asked.
“Oh,” Mutha said sitting down next to him, “Molu and I were lucky to find each other. It’s not our way to make such things taboo as other places do, but there are so few like us that we seldom talk about it.”
Hiereus frowned; the only man Hiereus had suspected to be like him died alone. He knew his chances in Eluthane.
“You need to make yourself known,” Mutha said. “I suspect there are more of us than we think but because no one speaks of it, we feel alone.”
“I...” Hiereus started, but Mutha cut him off.
“I know it’s an awkward thing to bring up, explaining that your romantic interests aren’t typical. Trust me, I know. But by the Flame Eluthane won’t hate you for it, and you’ll never know if others feel the same way unless you're visible.”
Hiereus smiled, “I’ll try,” he said drying his eyes.
“At very least mention it to your mother. The other day she was asking if there were any young ladies you were interested in.”
Hiereus sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “I guess I can start with that.”
“I’ll understand if you need some time to cry and miss cleanup, but you might want to hide in one of the ritual rooms. The others will be coming back to the temple soon.”
“Thanks, Mutha. Thanks,” he said and he hugged the new chief priest.
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