Richard Knaak - The Fire Rose

One hand moved over her heart, drawing an arched symbol not taught to her by any Titan. The pattern’s illumination shifted, growing so dark that it looked more black than blue.

Her eyes had been open thus far, but Morgada shut them. Her perfect, full black lips parted slightly as she breathed a single word.

“Xiryn.”

And in her head, a voice that gave no hint of being male or female whispered, I hear you .

Is that better? asked the voice, its intensity causing Golgren’s head to burn more fiercely than his flesh. He felt Idaria slump next to him and knew that she suffered the heat too.

“Ah! So tender! Forgive me again.”

The voice had become a true voice, but each syllable still struck with heat and force in the Grand Khan’s ears.

At least the heat was tolerable. Continuing to follow the elf’s warning, Golgren looked just below the imposing figure’s eyes. Sirrion-if indeed it was the god-stood just a little taller than Golgren, although clearly that was by choice, not by nature. The half-breed recalled widespread tales of Faros Es-Kalin’s supposed encounter with Sargonnas, and how it was said the god had the ability to appear in more than one shape or size. Sirrion could no doubt make himself look as mighty as a giant, or tinier than a gully dwarf.

“Born of elf and ogre, an impossible mix, an improbable mix. Well, to most,” Sirrion declared with some solemn humor. “And bearing the child of mine pleaded for by the High Ogres.” Golgren thought he detected a chuckle.

Golgren suddenly recalled the Fire Rose. He held it reverently toward the god. “It is yours?”

“Did I speak of any desire for it?” the fiery figure suddenly roared. “If I demand it, you will give it to me. There is no mistake!”

Flames erupted around the god. The heat once again grew suffocating.

Golgren, who had faced down all manner of beasts, mino-taurs, Nerakans, and, of course, the dread Titans, bowed low. “Forgive this humble one, oh god of fire. Never would I presume to know better than you what you desire.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Sirrion responded, the fury with which the deity had just spoken utterly gone, and with it the terrible flames and heat. “But that is your choice, of course!”

Golgren dipped his head again. Sirrion was very much like the incarnation of his element. Volatile.

The god peered at them, his eyes shifting from the Grand Khan to the elf. “Branchala’s love. Another interesting blending! I find such change stirring!”

The flames returned, albeit in a more subdued fashion. They seemed to reflect whatever level of emotion Sirrion was feeling.

“Great is Sirrion,” Idaria said of a sudden. “For without fire, there would be no civilization.”

“So very true! And do you like my little flower, Grand Khan of all ogres? Does its sweet scent of possibility entice you? It did for those who begged it of me so long ago.”

“The Fire Rose is … glorious.”

Sirrion grinned. “Glorious or monstrous, the choice is yours! The choice always is all of yours.” “All of ours?”

“Oh, there are many coveting the prize, including one coming nearer by the moment! He seems very, very eager! How would he wield the Fire Rose, do you think? I’d be fascinated to watch.” The god of fire had started to raise his hand toward Golgren and the Fire Rose, but lowered it again. “But that would be against what has been set in motion!”

Despite the danger of stirring Sirrion’s anger, the half-breed dared ask, “What is set in motion?”

The deity spread his arms wide. The flames grew stronger, hotter. “So much, so much! Ah, how long I’ve sat back and watched, when the world constantly cried for change!” He looked at Golgren, who barely managed to keep his own gaze from being trapped again. “You are set in motion, child of elf and ogre! For evil and ill, for good and fortune, you and others are set in motion! Krynn has grown, and in growth some things must give way, some things must grow stronger! You and they choose that my flower blooms again, after being buried for so long.”

Mention of others reminded Golgren of Safrag. The deity spoke of one who desired the Fire Rose, one who was nearing. That could only be the Titan leader.

Time was of the essence. “Oh great Sirrion, lord of fire! May this humble one ask how best to stir the Fire Rose to its glory?”

“One might well ask, where would the challenge be? Where would the reward be? The wonders of Krynn rise from the determination of its children to understand all!”

It was not the answer that the Grand Khan desired. Golgren carefully asked, “Why has the god ventured to us?”

“Why? Why?”

Idaria clutched Golgren’s arm. Both Sirrion and the Fire Rose flared so bright and hot that the Grand Khan felt the artifact burn his hands. Yet despite the scorching of his hands and the rest of his suffering because of the volatile deity, Golgren stood his ground.

“Child of elf and ogre, impossible creature, I come because I do! I am fire and flame, spreading onward wherever there is a spark, creating by cleansing, birthing by burning! I am the hand of alchemy! My mere presence stirs the imagination, the dreaming. It stirs something within you that you, especially, should appreciate, Grand Khan of all ogres!”

The chamber rumbled, but not because of anything that Sirrion had said or done. Golgren knew that it was because Safrag had located them and was on the trail of the artifact.

“The players are in place; the time of change is upon us,” the god continued, staring around at his surroundings. “The High Ogres sought change, but change sought them! They wanted a world that did not want them, and when they realized that, they begged for something with which to wipe clean the decay they saw around them. I was touched, and though my loving Shinare cautioned against it, I decided that their plea should be heard. Why not? To craft the gift is not to influence the choice! They made the choice, just as you and you and he and the others make it!” He suddenly thrust a finger at Golgren. “The choice is always yours, impossible child, even if the option given isn’t what you expected it would be.”

The chamber erupted. Golgren and Idaria were thrown to the floor. The Grand Khan clutched the searing artifact tight in his arms, but it was not completely protected. As he landed on the ground, he stared directly into the Fire Rose and saw for the first time that it was not perfect. A small piece, one of its leaves, had been broken off. It was doubtful that the break had happened by accident, for even striking the stone floor had not left a mark on the crystalline form. Indeed, the stone floor had cracked.

As dust rose around him, Golgren shoved the Fire Rose into one arm and used the other to push himself up. In doing so, he happened to glance into Sirrion’s ever changing eyes.

It will be interesting, the choices all of you make , the voice, once more burning in his head, declared. It will be interesting, the changes you demand of my flower. And the changes it demands of you and Krynn .

Sirrion’s form was rippling, just as a mirage created by the heat of the sun rippled. The god became less and less distinct, and when Golgren finally had to blink to keep his eyes from hurting, Sirrion was gone when he opened them.

With the lord of fire’s departure came the return of another menace. The wall exploded inward, the fragments freezing in the air just before they would have struck the Grand Khan and his slave.

With his right hand extended palm upward, Safrag stepped into the chamber. He paused to survey his surroundings.