Chris Evans - The Light of Burning Shadows

Nafeesah made another gesture and another small amount of sand flew up his arm and stopped at his throat. He could still breathe, but he could no longer speak.

Alwyn struggled to free himself, but now his hands were immobile as well. He looked at Nafeesah, trying to make her understand, but she only smiled and concentrated on the swirling sand.

“Now, we will banish this pain you carry.” She stared intently at the sand as her fingers traced increasingly complicated designs above it. Frost fire sparkled among the sand. “Ah, you are a wielder of the black flame,” she said. “You are one of the oath takers. I have heard rumors about this, but did not think it true.”

Alwyn tried to shake his head, but the pressure against his chest and neck made it impossible.

Nafeesah smiled and leaned in close. The smell of her perfume washed over Alwyn and he felt the heat of her skin on his. Her lips brushed his right ear. “There is more here than meets the eye, but I will set things right.” She pulled back and held out her hands.

Two perfectly round orbs of white flame danced in her palms. She gently blew on one and it tumbled from her hand and floated down to land on the burning sand covering his hands.

White fire! Alwyn tensed, expecting the pain he’d felt on the island. The black and white flame danced across the sand, intertwining but never becoming one. The sensation was as if Nafeesah herself were massaging his hands in hers.

“Stop fighting it,” Nafeesah said, directing her focus to the flames in his hands. She made a quick motion with one finger and the sand on his throat flew back to his hands.

“You have to stop…you don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

Nafeesah pouted, but continued to weave, tightening her pattern as she did so. The white flame grew, clearly trying to overwhelm the frost fire. “I have never seen anything like this, but do not worry, I can help you. Mine is a subtle power, but potent nonetheless.”

Alwyn banged his head against the wall and let out his breath with a huff. Mist formed in the air. “You need to stop, now, before it’s too late.”

Sweat beaded on Nafeesah’s forehead, but she refused. “Just a little bit…longer…”

“Please, stop. I can’t control this much longer.”

“…I can help you…”

“No,” Alwyn said. The room grew frigid. Shadows stretched out on the walls looming over them. Alwyn recognized Meri, and saw the black blade in his dead hand. The other shadows moved closer. Alwyn knew he had to stop Nafeesah now or the shades would. He willed the power to him and black flames surged in his hands, consuming the white fire in a flash. The sand on his chest froze with black frost and shattered, as did the sand covering his hands.

“What are you?” Nafeesah asked, looking between Alwyn and the shadows around her.

Alwyn closed his eyes and the frost fire died and went out. The shades lingered, but Alwyn shook his head and they, too, vanished. When he opened his eyes again, Nafessah was still looking at him. She had not backed away.

“I am bound by an oath,” he said, the enormity of it coming back to him in a rush. “I wish I’d never…I just…” Tears filled his eyes and began to run down his cheeks, which only added to his misery. Faces of the dead swam in and out of his vision, and he couldn’t tell if it was memory or hallucination. So much death. So much pain. And for what?

Alwyn expected Nafeesah to run, or call for help, or yell at him to leave, but she did the most unexpected thing: She leaned forward and kissed him.

“I don’t understand,” Alwyn said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“You didn’t ask for this, and that is why I am still here,” she said.

Alwyn nodded. He felt thin, as if the only thing keeping him together was the sound of Nafeesah’s voice.

“What…what is your power?” he asked. He had to keep talking to her. Her voice was the last anchor keeping him here, keeping him sane.

Nafeesah dipped her head, then brushed the hair from her face. “Nothing like yours. We use it to cure small injuries and to soothe troubled spirits. We call it KamRha, after the ancient Kaman Rhal, ruler of the Expanse.”

Alwyn’s heart beat a little faster. “Wait, wasn’t he the one who built that library? Our Prince talks about stuff like that all the time.”

Nafeesah brightened. “Yes, one and the same. Kaman Rhal was a sorcerer and pursued knowledge wherever he found it, no matter what the cost.”

Alwyn closed his eyes. “Seems everything old is new again.”

“I hope not,” Nafeesah said. “Rhal was a great king, but also a terrible one. It was said that in his day he could command the power of the sun to burn his enemy’s shadows to ash, capturing their souls for all eternity.”

Alwyn opened his eyes and sat forward. “He had this power?”

Nafeesah nodded, her eyes wide as she looked into Alwyn’s. “He was most feared for this, but that was hundreds, perhaps thousands of years ago. Then a great sandstorm is said to have raged for a hundred days and a hundred nights, and when it was over Kaman Rhal, his great library, and even the town of Urjalla were gone. His power, however, is said to have been carried on the wind of that storm, and those of us who practice the art today are said to possess a little bit of it, but it is nothing to what he once wielded.”

Alwyn pressed his left fist into the side of his stump, using the pain to help him focus. “Are there any wizards or witches with more of this power, enough to be able to kill someone? Could enough users band together to do it?”

“No, no one. Not by themselves and not in a group. It doesn’t work that way. What few of us there are only use it for good. I told you, it’s a subtle power. It gently burns away that which troubles a spirit, no more. What you speak of is impossible. Only Kaman Rhal commanded power that great.” Nafeesah’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Why do you ask this?”

“No reason,” Alwyn lied, looking down at his hands. “I just was curious.”

Nafeesah reached out and touched his face and forced his head up to look at her. “Why do you ask me this, Alwyn?”

Alwyn knew they were not supposed to talk about it, but the idea of following one more order when it was orders that had put him-put all of them-in this situation churned up an anger he couldn’t ignore.

“We…we met someone, or something, using Kaman Rhal’s power. It was on an island off the coast. There was white flame, not a little like you use, but a lot. Enough to…burn the shadow of a soldier and kill him.”

Nafeesah’s eyes widened. “What? This cannot be! Rhal is…dead. His magic is lost to the ages, save the small spark a few of us carry. Surely you are mistaken.”

Alwyn shook his head. “I felt it. I felt it deep inside me, burning, scouring away the oath that binds me to…that I took when I joined the Iron Elves.”

“Gossip travels fast in a city like Nazalla, especially in a place like this. We have many pillows for such talk,” she said, nudging him and smiling.

Alwyn didn’t smile back. “You said the flame burns away troubles. If there was enough of it, could it burn away more?”

Nafeesah stopped smiling. “No. A magical bond is a complex thing. It ties the living to the natural world in ways we cannot understand. The weave would be too entwined with your spirit. To burn one would be to burn both.”

Alwyn shook his head. “I know, but with enough power, it could be controlled. Just enough…”

Nafeesah shook her head violently. “No! If this is Rhal’s magic, then nothing but pain and suffering would await you. You have had your power how long, months? You are no wizard, Alwyn; you are not even an apprentice. Kaman Rhal’s power is old, as old as the sand.”