Conquest of Avalon

Fernan II: The Fallen

The walls pulsated, flashing from brown to green with a throbbing energy he felt mirrored in his own heart. Down and down he spiralled, descending as the walls grew narrower, closing in around him.

Fernan closed his eyes, trying to shut it away, but it made no difference. The image was seared into his sight by the light of the flames. His face still hurt, even after however much time had passed while he was unconscious.

The air was hot and dry, growing only more intense as he felt himself carried downwards. He tried to wipe the sweat from his brow, but the pain from the contact made him flinch back.

“Florette?” he called out, his throat hoarse. The word did not easily pass his lips, distorted and cracked. If she’d had any sense, she would have left him and fled. Trying to drag his limp body ahead of a gecko in its native lands would have been a suicidal endeavor, but leaving him might have bought her the time to get to the safety of the village walls.

The only response he heard was hissing. The gecko?

Lying atop a cloud of green fire, Fernan could not even see himself as he looked down at his body. Only the pulsing flame, nearly joined with the walls. Blinking changed nothing.

Gradually, the tunnel grew so small that the walls nearly swallowed him, then smaller still. The color began to leech out of the walls, leaving only the darkness and the flame beneath him, tilting ever downwards. Then even that was gone, and he felt himself falling into the void.

He was untethered for what felt like an eternity, but the sharp pain in his ribs as he landed meant he couldn’t have died. His face burned with pain, and the rest of his body ached, but he was alive. Looking around, he saw the pulsating walls return, the clouds of fire in and around them. All of it spiraled around a larger figure in the center, glowing so brightly it was nearly white.

“Hello?” Fernan called out, the effort scraping his throat raw. His tongue felt slightly less numb in his mouth, at least, the word a bit clearer. He felt some of the feeling return to his hands, and he wiggled his fingers to test that he could.

“Human spawn.” The voice came from all around him, a collection of hissing and scraping somehow resolving into words. “And so you arrive.”

“What happened? Where’s Florette? Where is––” He was overwhelmed by the urge to cough, the pain in his throat growing to nearly match what he felt on his face. The most pressing question, why he was still alive, Fernan did not voice.

One of the clouds of green fire approached him, coming closer until it was on top of him.

Fernan tried to back away, but his frantic scurrying was too slow to avoid it.

The fire pressed on top of him, and he felt the weight of it on his chest. What? Before he could think on it further, a splash of water caught him in the face.

The relief was immense. He opened his mouth and felt another pour of water land in his throat. Lukewarm and stale, it tasted sweet as the ambrosia of the spirits while he gulped it down.

“My children have brought you here to see me, human.” The voice came through the chorus of hissing once again. “You ought to thank them for the honor of standing in my presence.”

Children? “Who are you?” Fernan croaked.

The largest fire in the center flickered. “I am Gézarde. Spirit of flame, ruler of these mountains, and father to the geckos. Your master, should you value your life.”

Fernan blinked, though it failed to block out the light. Could it truly be a spirit behind all of the misery and misfortune? Alderman Jerome was a spirit sage himself, and had firmly dismissed the possibility on the rare occasions it had been posed. The geckos were merely beasts, he said, grasping and consuming whatever they could.

But something was talking, right now. That much couldn’t be denied.

If the geckos really were the work of a spirit, that might mean they could be bargained with. He might even be able to save the village from their wrath with the right deal.

The thought was sobering, a slap in the face. As horrible as all of this was, he couldn’t ignore the opportunity.

“Nothing to say, human? Or do you simply know that I shall not take kindly to the lies and trickery your kind spew forth at every opportunity?” The white flame in the center seemed to expand slightly before contracting again, almost like it was breathing in and out. “If that is so, you may be the smartest among them. A fitting sage for a great spirit.”

Fernan frowned. “Why should I believe you? You say you’re a great spirit, but I’ve never heard of you. Your children have killed dozens of my people, attacked me and my friend without anything to gain from it. If you rule them, you have much to answer for.”

“Do not test my patience, you miserable creature. Your part in this is eminently replaceable. Disrespect has consequences.”

“So does killing people.” Fernan narrowed his eyes, wincing at the lancing pain from his face as he did. “We did nothing to harm you.”

“So quickly do the lies begin. I see that you are no exception to your kind’s propensity for deception.” The temperature of the cavern rose even higher, bits of flame flying off of the central column in all directions. “I will have an oath of you, this very instant. Should you lie again to me, your soul is mine.”

“But––”

“Speak another word before the oath and it shall be your last, human.”

Fernan gulped, cutting his objection short. Jerome had told him never to consort with spirits. Even the lesser of them could kill most sages, and most could inflict a fate far worse than mere death with the right deal. Only sages could converse with spirits with any measure of safety; that was what made them worthy of their power.

But even Jerome would have trouble with an unknown spirit like this. Each had their particularities, their preferences one could only defy at their own peril.

Giving in to death was an option, he supposed. In the worst case, it would probably be better than the alternative. Practically any fate would be better than laboring as the spirit’s eternal slave. In the meantime, an oath of truth seemed safe enough to uphold. It wasn’t like he had any secrets. “I vow to speak only what I believe to be true in your presence, mighty Gézarde. Should I break this deal, my soul is yours.”

The flame compacted slightly, growing more concentrated as it did. “Already the coward’s words, writhing away from the truth that humans are too weak to uphold. ‘Belief’ is not the same as reality, and your kind can lie even with truth. I know that all too well. But for the moment, that will suffice.”

“I would hope so.” Fernan tapped his leg nervously to distract himself from the pain in his face. “You get everything out of this deal, while I get nothing.”

“Impudent brat! You get your life, for the moment. Do not be so hasty to throw it away.”

Not much of a prize, when spirits were concerned.

“But I know that you humans are driven only by selfish desires. Grasping upwards even as your depravity drives you down. The carrot and the whip, a man once told me. I do intend to provide both.”

“Then I want you to have the geckos stop attacking our caravans. I’d do almost anything to make that happen.”

“Would you now? How interesting. That can be arranged.” The fire glowed even brighter, somehow emanating a feeling of satisfaction, or joy. “In fact, should you accept the deal I propose, it will happen as a natural result.”

“Really?” None of that sounded right in the slightest. Why the attacks at all, if his goal would end them?

The flame pulsed once more. “Of course. Once the village of Villechart is reduced to ash, there will be no more caravans to attack. Simply invite me and my children inside, and you will be rewarded greatly.”

“There’s nothing you can offer that would make me,” Fernan snarled. “I would sooner die.” The whole village was depending on him, now. It was up to him to stop the evil spirit and his plan, even if it required the ultimate sacrifice. As awful as that would be.

“Then be silent, or I shall grant your wish for death!” The fire emitted a smaller stream directly next to Fernan, the heat growing even more sweltering as it passed by and flaring up the pain in his face again. “You may believe in your resolve, young human, but I know how your people behave. At the first opportunity, you grasp for whatever petty ambition consumes your fancy. Never content with what you have, you ruin the lives of any in your way. Truly the ultimate evil of the world, you––”

“Who hurt you?” Fernan interrupted before his head could catch up to his mouth. “Uh… I mean…” Khali’s curse. “Why do you hate us so much?”

The flame subsided, dimming to a color closer to that of the green clouds around it. “Is it hate, to recognize what simply is? You humans are a threat to my children, stealing food from their mouths for your own nefarious purposes.”

Fernan blinked. “Food? The geckos eat the coal?”

“Of course, you fool! They depend on it to grow large and strong, to stoke the flames in their minds and their hearts. I can only provide them with so much…” The hissing speech halted for a moment. “Not that my power is in question.”

“I see.” Fernan wiped the sweat that had already reformed on his brow. “If you need it that much, couldn’t we make a deal? Work it out so we both get what we need?” Villechart wouldn’t like it, but it had to be better to give some of their livelihood up to prevent further attacks. Even if it meant leaving the geckos to be.

“And so another villager wishes to bargain for my children’s food. I think not. The last was bound to truth as well, and did no less damage for it.” The vortex of flame crept closer, raising the temperature further as it did. “You are here simply to be my instrument. Invite me and my children inside your village, and I will grant you a share of my power. I can even grant you a new sight, greater than that which you lost.”

“I haven’t lost any sight.” Fernan said, before he had time to think. His eyes widened, taking in once more the pulsing room, filled with clouds of dense clouds of fire darting back and forth across the cavern, all surrounding the massive white flame in the center of it all. The skittering movement, the hissing… He shut his eyes again, trying to block out the sight, but the image refused to change. “What did you do to me?”

“Your eyes were burned with cleansing fire, and a small measure of that fire yet remains. No doubt it will burn out soon, taking what vision you have maintained with it.” The spirit’s glow shifted to an orange color. “Unless you accept my offer. My power could fuel the fire in your eyes for more than your lifetime. I could even show you how my children see, that you might gain mastery over it.” His color changed again, taking on a deep red tinge. “All you need to do is accept.”

“No,” Fernan repeated. “Why is that so hard for you to understand? I’m not going to let you invade my village just to get my sight back, or save my own life. I can’t imagine anyone would be that selfish.”

“Your imagination is pitiful. If you refuse, I shall simply find another to take your place.”

“I doubt it,” Fernan barked back. “Your ‘children’ have killed more of us than the cave-ins and blizzards. In Villechart, we support each other. No one would be willing to get everyone killed for something that selfish.”

“I have another human waiting right outside, as it happens. Perhaps your body will help persuade her of the cost to defiance.”

“Florette…” he breathed. Khali’s curse.

“My darling Mara, my best and brightest, spent years learning your tongue, that she might gain the information to stop you. She heard that your village uncovered the Cardinal Lode, without which my children would surely perish, and took decisive action to save her kin. For that, your fellow human grievously injured her. Whether she accepts my offer or not, I’m sure Mara would be happy to mete out retribution.”

“Wait…” Invite the geckos… “I don’t think she’s of any use to you. She’s from another village, further down the mountain. She couldn’t invite you to my village any more than I could invite you to Château Malin.”

The spirit was silent, fumes trailing upward from his form. “Useless… As if my children were not already free to stop them.”

Right. Alderman Jerome had taken measures to ward the geckos from the perimeter of Villechart, but Florette’s village didn’t have a spirit sage. They wouldn’t have the same defenses.

“I’m not going to invite you to sow death and destruction against my village. There has to be another way.” Think harder. “What if we found another source? On another mountain? You and the geckos could leave––”

“Never!” The spirit flared out once more. “These mountains are my home. The home of my children. We will not allow you humans to displace us.”

“Villechart is my home too,” Fernan insisted.

“Bah. You humans settled there scant decades ago, pursuing my coal up the mountain. If anything, it is you who should flee in disgrace.”

I never thought of it like that. This had been their home, their source of food and shelter. And when people had come to mine the coal, to make a life for themselves, the geckos had defended it.

Taking a deep breath as he resisted the tingling in his face, Fernan clapped his hands together. “If the alternative is annihilation, we can find a way.” We could, right?

After everything the geckos had done, it was hard to imagine any kind of resolution, but surely they would see that putting a stop to the conflict would be best for everyone. They would have to, right?

The more he considered it, the less sure he felt. As long as Jerome could protect the village itself, the bounty of coal was worth the risk for caravans on the road. If they found out that mining more would weaken the geckos, it would only embolden them further. “We have to find the way.” It wasn’t a lie, but for the first time, it felt like one.

“Perhaps you do.”

“You need another solution as well, Gézarde. As long as the village is protected, the people will continue to mine. Your plan to coerce one of us into betraying everyone is terrible, and would never work. There’s nothing you could offer anyone worth the death of all of their friends and loved ones.” Fernan sighed. “I’m trying to find a way to get your children the food they need without anyone else getting hurt.”

The flame spirit drew in on itself, growing more compact. “What human are you, to say such things and mean them? I cannot claim your soul, so you believe yourself to speak the truth. I know not what trick you intend, but I shall not be fooled again.”

“There’s no trick. Really! I’m just trying to get things back to the way they should be.”

A hiss of steam filled the air. “Do you truly believe you could rid my mountains of your fellow humans?”

“Well, it’s not that simple. I’d need to find another mine for them, or another livelihood entirely. If we wanted to set up a new village, it would mean getting a whole new town charter, and we’d need––”

“You begin to bore me. How quickly could you make it happen?”

Fernan cracked a slight smile. It was something. “I’d need at least a year. Probably more. I have no idea what it takes to get a town charter, and the only other mines I know of are failing.”

“You shall have five turns of the moon. My children can wait no longer than that.”

“Then you agree?”

“If you swear to invite me into the village by the summer solstice, whether it is vacant or not.”

Could he really gamble everything on this? Or lose his soul if he failed?

“I accept. I will invite you in the walls by the summer solstice, to do as you will. If I fail to uphold the bargain, my soul is yours.”

“In exchange, I offer you a share of my power to use as my spirit sage, and a guide to aide you in learning your sight.”

He hadn’t needed to include those. “Then the bargain is struck.”

Immediately, he felt the flames fill his eyes once more.

Faces and figures danced past him, too many to count: Mother, staring down with tears in her eyes, Jerome’s confidant grin, Florette burning with indignation. Even Gaspard, laughing at his good fortune as he notched an arrow. And then there were others he could not name, far more than the ones he recognized: A crowned jester, dancing and swaying; a serpent entwined around a fox so tightly it looked to suffocate it; a man with no eyes, wreathed in flames.

Denser they grew, each passing only for an instant in that same fiery jade outline: A ray of sunlight over a sinking ship; a tower reaching far into the sky, a glossy black circle at the top; a boy falling from a massive pillar of glass onto a sandy beach.

When the images faded, the spirit was still in view, but the image was crisper now, the edges more defined. Fernan could see a pair of legs supporting it on the ground, wings stretched behind its back.

“Now begone. I mislike having you in my domain”

“Already? I thought you said I’d have a guide.”

“She will escort you out.”

Fernan turned around, facing the tunnel he had come through. At the edge was another crisper figure, four limbs on the ground like a gecko, although the back of it looked strange.

“Don’t worry too much about them,” it hissed.

Fernan nearly jumped out of his skin. “You can speak?”

“I’m so glad you think so!” The gecko glowed red. “I’ve been trying to learn from Gézarde, and from hiding under the bridge and listening, but almost none of my brothers and sisters can talk, so it’s been really hard. They’re all smaller, so they’re super dumb. I’ve never had a real human to talk to, though! I have so many questions!”

“You’re the one that burned me.” Fernan’s eyes narrowed. “Mara, he called you.”

“I’m sorry about that.” The red faded to a dull blue. “Really. But I had to protect my brothers and sisters. If the Cardinal Lode were mined and sent away, we would starve.”

“I suppose you’re getting what you want, then.” He exhaled sharply. “If you’re coming with me, you can’t hurt anyone else. If you can’t agree to that, I’ll make do without you.”

“Then I agree.” Mara let out a small puff of smoke at the last statement. “As long as no one hurts me first.”

Fernan breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let me show you the way out!” She scurried up the tunnel as Fernan scrambled to keep up.

“Why did you say not to think too hard about it? And what about, exactly?”

Mara glowed red once more. “What you saw through the flames is happening now, or already did. Most are from far away, or long ago, or both. Gézard says they usually aren’t literal, whatever that means. No prophecies or destiny or anything, and it’s usually a waste of spiritual power. You can’t really look for what you want, so most of the time it’s better just not to bother.”

“I see,” Fernan said as they reached the mouth of the tunnel.

“You’ll have to tell me how your human vision worked. Gézarde said that you can’t see the heat, so how do you get around? I thought that since your eyes were so poor you might rely more on smell. Or maybe by sound. Do you––” She was interrupted by a rock hurtling past, narrowly missing her head.

Standing a few yards away was a thin column of flame. It almost looked human in its proportions, glowing bright red.

“Florette?”