euphridia
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Book 4: Chapter 50: Prayer to Pyre
🕑 Added 2025-10-05 21:45:48 +0000 UTCBefore Morin was even out of earshot, Relias insisted that we stop by the church. The abandoned buildings of southern Atramentis were silent save for the crunch of our boots on ice, and I was already chafing under the thought of yet another delay.
“You and I should seek all blessings available,” he called from behind. “And night will soon overtake us.”
“Every minute we spend here drains Oliver’s strength. And are you telling me the dragon is less than a day’s travel from here? Otherwise, we’ll be camping at some point, so why not start now?”
“Rae…” Nora interjected. “Any one of us might be, ah, divinely inspired by a trip to the sanctuary.”
I stopped and turned. “Since when are you so pious?”
She cleared her throat. “Call me mercurial, but I’ve recently found that asking for guidance from those beyond our sight is of benefit. And we deserve those benefits for all the hard work we’re putting in, don’t you think?”
Mercurial… benefits…?
Oh, Clare Mercure!
Hopefully, Nora remembered to ask about any specifics on how to reboot Naught, and not just about her retirement account.
But what about Oliver?
I put my hand on Will’s hilt.
Are you going to be alright if we go into the—
“No effect… Remember?” Oliver’s response was weak, like he was talking from far away.
Oh right. You seemed fine in the sanctuary at the Dark Mage Tower.
I let go of the sword. “Fine. But let’s not dawdle, okay?”
Relias glanced thoughtfully at Will, and then at me. “I share your sense of urgency, Dear One. Our ritual will be brief enough that we can set out before evening falls, in equity and grace to all companions.”
***
I’ll admit I did pray while we were there, though the beginning was mostly a mental status update to everyone I could think of who might have heard it. When I got to thinking about Oliver, however, I hesitated. I hadn’t even tried contacting Euphridia or CUP while in the Dark Mage Tower, primarily out of instinct. You know when your brain comes up with a dozen excuses before you process a single one? That’s just its way of saying, No, I don’t want to do this, and I went with the flow.
Now, however, was probably the point of no return. To talk about Oliver, I’d have to come clean about my original exodus from Speranza. While I was reasonably sure she probably already knew what I’d done, it’s altogether different to have to say it.
But I promised to make things right, didn’t I?
“Fuck,” I swore aloud, causing Relias to jump.
“Sorry. I’m going to hit the confessional, but don’t bother attending to me. It’s nothing you don’t already know.”
It was a rickety closet at best, smelling faintly of old incense, but I wasn’t stupid enough to speak my sins aloud in the booth. It was by no means soundproof, and I didn’t need anyone from the group weighing in on them. I even went so far as to unsheath my sword and set it in the corner.
And so, I explained myself from the beginning. That while I couldn’t remember much of the setup, I was certainly fed up, and I knew Oliver’s plans were my best bet, even if they were unorthodox. I told her exactly what I thought of what it was to be the Chosen One, and while there was most likely no malice in her selection of me, it created a lot more problems than I could ever possibly solve.
I’m not going to apologize for teaming up with him, this time or the last. I will hold myself accountable for some of the outcomes my actions—and maybe even my inactions—have caused, and I expect the same from you, alright?
It goes without saying that I received no response, but I felt somewhat better about the exercise nonetheless.
After returning to the sanctuary, I joined hands with Relias for shared blessings. As promised, he kept it much shorter than usual, though the glow we shared was just as intense.
“Impressive,” Nora remarked, rubbing at her eyes. “That’s some LED-level illumination right there.”
“LED?” Relias asked.
“Bright. Really bright,” I replied before Nora could delve into a long-winded explanation.
The vibrations grew stronger outside of town. We followed a worn trail toward the mountain range, and by the time we reached the mine it connected to, we could feel the ground thrum even when we were mid-step.
“When I think of a mine, I usually imagine a built-up entrance,” Nora conceded. “This just sorta looks like a hole in a rut.”
“Next to several other ruts,” I added, frowning. “Was that all caused by sophisticated mining equipment?”
If so, none of it was outside for us to ponder.
Relias shook his head. “Sparkles’s claws.”
There were several feet between each rut.
I gulped audibly. “Relias… just how big is Sparkles?!”
“She is the size she wishes to be,” he replied softly. “Prudence dictates we not approach her all at once, lest she feel the need to grow in defense.”
“Is she built for bulk, or more like a wavy noodle?” Nora demanded.
Relias blinked several times. “At her zenith, she… bears wings broad enough to eclipse the dawn. Her frame was made to bear the weight of the sky itself as she flies.”
“I knew she’d be western-style!” Nora snorted. “It’s wrong!”
I was still staring at the claw marks. “I don’t see how that’s wrong…”
“Chinese zodiac for years and personality, but she picks a western-style dragon? She’s mixing up everything here!”
“Nora, I’m holding a long sword and a buckler, and wearing the remnants of a holy hachimaki. She was mixing up everything from the start!”
Nora huffed. “I wanted to see a noodle dragon.”
I glared. “I’m pretty sure that delves into derogatory, so for my sake, don’t say that again.”
She gave the look back to me in spades. “I heard you asking about a danger noodle the other night in your sleep.”
I pulled my hood shut so no one could see my face turn crimson. “These distractions aren’t helping!”
“She may take human form to speak with you,” Relias advised. “I believe your approach will determine—”
“So she’s a shapeshifter, just like demons?” I asked. “Wait, what’s the difference between dragons and demons then?”
“She is a dragon,” Relias reiterated. “She is not a demon.”
I opened my hood to plead with Nora silently.
She coughed. “I can’t speak for Speranza, but, uh… some religions… and myths, at least where I come from, say they’re one and the same. For example—”
“Sparkles is a dragon because the Goddess named her as such.” Relias frowned. “I strongly advise against pointing out any parallels between them. Unless you wish to see her at that aforementioned zenith.”
Nora and I both stiffened.
“Understood,” we said in unison.
Traversing the mountains was the ultimate test of frustration. What can I say? They were the worst kind of terrain: sheer cliffs glazed in stripes of ice and snow, shaped only for the dark-furred mountain goats that seemed to laugh behind our backs.
Nora, however, came up with several cheats mere minutes into the ordeal.
“I can pop out some footholds along the rock face,” she explained, holding her hand up like a claw. Animus flickered for a moment between her fingers. “I could do it with ice, too, but I think we should avoid slippery surfaces whenever we can.”
“No blasting us up with Ventos?” I asked, only half serious.
“I can control myself better if I’m in physical contact with whatever I’m manipulating,” she said. “And before you start on me about touching the air, density matters too. I don’t want to risk an avalanche or another fastball-special overshoot.”
“Another fastball-special overshoot… Is that what happened back in Turri when I was going after the Skreethi Matriarch? I thought it was my amity that made me jump up the mountain too far!”
Nora shrugged. “Why not both? Don’t the two work together if you synergize just right? That’s how the holy barrier and translocation circles work—and most likely the Mistress’s glove.” She made a rueful face. “If only we could get it working again.”
“Synergizing is hard, I guess,” I murmured. “Whatever that really entails.”
Hopefully, I’d figure out how to do it intentionally when it came to opening the barrier.
We did, of course, use the climbing tools Relias had bound to his staff’s subspace. With the proper equipment and magical enhancement, we probably made about as much progress as skilled mountaineers. However, even then, we had to take several breaks to rest and recollect.
“You’re really the best at starting fires,” I said to Nora in admiration. “Drying out our clothes and frequent rewarming is probably the biggest cheat of all.”
Relias kept looking toward the south. “A small flame is fine, but I would advise against a bonfire. She may see it as a challenge.”
Nora lowered her hands to shrink the fire we had. “Alright.”
By the time we had been there for a few days, we noticed that the mountain goats spent less time staring at us. In fact, they had, at one point, seemed to melt away.
“The vibration probably makes it too hard for them to hold onto the sides of the cliff,” Nora suggested. “Even my teeth are rattling now.”
It was a strange feeling: a one-second shake, followed by about five seconds of silence and stillness before it started again.
“Was it here when you last visited?” I asked Relias.
He shook his head as he stared at the ground. “It is novel to me, but I would surmise it is originating from Paradise itself, rather than Sparkles.”
After another day or so, we became accustomed to fatigue and monotony. We eventually rounded a rock-filled ledge at one point, and the mountain range simply fell away.
Below us lay a vast, circular basin pressed perfectly into the heart of the suddenly bone-dry mountains. Two enormous bonfires burned at its center, their light flickering across the smooth stone and revealing thousands of tiny runes carved into the basin floor. Between the fires, and curled protectively around them, was a great, winged dragon of iridescent opal, her sparkling splendor woefully underrepresented by her namesake.
Then she breathed.
The fires bowed in the gust that followed, and even from our mountainside perch, I felt the updraft roll over us, hot enough to sting my eyes. When I blinked them clear, she lifted her head toward the cliffs, two molten-gold eyes locking on.
The roar that followed was more force than sound, or perhaps my hearing was gone before it finished. A tidal wave of smoky fury surged up from the basin, swiftly followed by a column of flame that shot up and split the night sky.
Since not a single pebble around us had so much as shifted under the assault, I inhaled to steady myself, then screamed, “Give me a few minutes to come on down and explain the situation, okay?!”
***
Post Chapter Omake:
Nora: Okay. At first, I was reminded of farm-to-table, but I've come around to it. The chapter title is fire!
Rae: No, actually, I decided to avoid that word entirely and go with some more alliteration.
Nora: You're doing it on purpose again. Stop taking what I say so literally!
Rae: But you get so mad so quick, and your eyes just turn this violent violet... It's really a sight to see!
Nora: Alright, just for that, your response counts against your total, and you're now officially in cooldown. No more aliteration for 1500 words!
Rae: What? Noooo!
Comments
Euphridia
*finishes up work on Monday, sees comment* yep, both going into the void... T-T
rhekke
Hmmm, I wonder what is worse - prayer or email. With email, you have a paper trail for whatever you say, for good or ill. But with prayer, you have no idea who might be listening in if you're not quiet. But for both, you're really just sending your words into the void hoping someone on the other end cares enough to see them and do something in response.
