Dawn of Fire Special Collector’s Edition

2. The City of Ruins

2 The City of Ruins

After several hours, and precisely sixty-seven exhausted huffs from Dain later, Julius and his pupils neared the city of Gothe. The trip was longer than the boys had anticipated. Even Julius remembered the trip as shorter. He realized the boys and the horses had nearly reached their limit and would benefit from a short rest. After surveying the area, Julius found a patch of green land on the hillside overlooking the valley below. “That’s enough for now. We can rest here for a little while.” “Ah, finally. I’m exhausted,” Dain huffed.

“Sixty-eight,” Dorian murmured.

“Huh?”

“Sixty-eight. You have sighed sixty-eight times since we left.” “Damn, you are bored,” Dain said back.

“We can’t be too long. We have to get to Gothe soon.”

“I know, Dorian, but we have to be smart about this. What are we going to do if we arrive and we are met with resistance? Without rest, we would be too tired to fight. Relax for a while,” Julius reasoned.

Dorian plopped against a nearby tree. Dain laid close by on a soft patch of swaying grass. He felt his body sink into the crisp greenery. He took in a deep breath of the fresh country air and averted his gaze toward the clear sky above. “Hey, Julius…what do you think we’ll find when we reach Gothe?” He asked.

Julius knew the answer to Dain’s query, but he didn’t have the heart to admit it to himself. “I would hope that we will find survivors and maybe someone who knows what happened there.”

Dain hummed as a crisp breeze swept across the landscape. The brush of the wind against Dorian’s face put his nerves at ease. He closed his eyes for a moment and was soon battling the massive pull of exhaustion’s influence. Dorian dozed off into a vivid dream. It was as if he were in a warzone. A small village burned around him, sitting in partial ruin. The smell of burning wood and smoke filled the air. Mortified screams of frightened people frantically fleeing the c*****e are what scared Dorian most. His panicked eyes panned the chaos until they met a blurry figure standing within the dense smoke. The invader jittered like a translucent phantom of smoke, as if unstable, and trapped in a state of chaos. It moved with fluidity, shifty, and formless as it swirled within the choking smoke. The undulating figure reformed itself into a solid mass, and Dorian heard a bellowing voice call out to him, one that shook him to the core.

“Dorian. You already know how this will end,” the figure declared, it’s back turned to Dorian. The figure slowly turned to face him. Its eyes glowed an eerie, burning red. The figure suddenly charged toward Dorian with incredible speed. Dorian backed away with his hands raised, tripping over a downed body in the process. He stumbled to the ground screaming as the spectral entity rushed him with its smoke-laden mouth open wide, ready to devour him. Dorian squealed as the vivid dream shook him awake.

“She was that good, huh?” Dain said, smirking, hands c****d behind his head.

Dorian’s frenetic eyes darted across the serene landscape. He sighed heavily, realizing the raging fires were only an illusion. “I…I had a disturbing nightmare.”

“What about?” Julius asked.

“I saw a village burned to the ground. I heard screams and swords clashing. Then I saw a figure in the smoke. It was like it was a part of the smoke itself. It spoke to me. It told me that I already knew how this would end and it came for me. Then I woke up.”

A stern expression came over Julius’ face. “An omen perhaps,” he whispered.

“An omen?” Dain asked.

“Or perhaps it’s Chronus. It’s the fear he creates. He loves to use scare tactics to frighten his enemies. Tales of his misdeeds have been spread far and wide. I’m sure it was just a dream bread from your fears of him,” Julius replied.

“It wasn’t Chronus, Julius. This was different. It…was not human.”

“As he is now, neither is he. Best not to dwell on it, young man. It was just a dream.”

Dorian felt a fire in his stomach, a powerful one from deep down that he couldn’t explain.

“Julius, how do you know the Baron? Who is he, really?” Dain asked.

“He was an old friend that lost his way. We used to be as thick as thieves, and then one day he changed. I lost a friend of many years, and I have always regretted that I couldn’t help him.”

“Help him?”

There was apprehension in Julius’ eyes, masking a great deal of pain. The curious boys decided not to press him any further.

“We’ll change all this, Julius. I promise,” Dorian claimed.

“Maybe we can just talk him to death, or Dorian can just scowl at him until he vanishes,” Dain said.

Julius laughed and returned his attention to the scenery. Dorian sat, contemplating his vivid nightmare. He couldn’t shake the fear he felt bubbling in the pit of his gut. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite comprehend the unsettling feeling that had suddenly come over him. Julius’ roaming eyes caught sight of movement. His body stiffened as he spotted a group of suspicious roamers approaching from the valley below. “Bandits, no doubt,” he said. Julius urged them to continue onward. He kept a watchful eye on the encroaching strangers while they settled the horses and left the tranquil hillside. As they neared the outskirts of Gothe the signs of war and battle became more apparent. Downed trees and scorched earth were a common sight. Dorian couldn’t stop thinking about his nightmare. The images stuck in his mind, sticky like the blackest tar. He still felt the heat of the flames, heard the crackle of embers, and smelled the smoke. The mysterious figure that had spoken to him bothered him the most.

Dain and Julius carefully surveyed the area for ambushes as they traveled. They walked until the sun had fallen from the midday sky and into the distance. An expanse of black earth lay ahead of them just outside of Gothe. The charred and withered landscape was a ghost of its former fertility of lush greenery. Julius realized that the surrounding area used to be the forest leading to the city. He felt his stomach drop and braced himself for the worst.

Dain and Dorian examined the tattered landscape. They both wondered what kind of person would desire such destruction. The three navigated the warped landscape toward a broken gate. The remnants of the luxurious and extravagantly crafted entryway had been bent and melted. Dain and Dorian looked at each other in disbelief. Julius stepped forward, humming, examining the gnarled metal entrance. “Let’s go, boys.”

Dain and Dorian followed Julius through the twisted metal and into the destroyed city. Embers still burned within the skeletal remains of the surrounding homes and structures. The roads were charred black. Countless shops and homes sat crushed or disheveled. Charred mounds protruded from the road. Dorian examined the smoldering grooves and realized that the lumps were the remains of countless dead inhabitants. The charred bodies had fused into the blackened streets. Dain and Dorian closely followed Julius, cringing in disgust.

“Is that?” Dain exclaimed.

“Why…why would anyone do this?” Dorian questioned.

The remains of the dead lay dispersed throughout the streets as smoke rose from the decaying carcasses. In the distance, the once extravagant castle of Gothe sat in complete ruins. The trio wandered through the ghostly streets until Julius came to a halt in front of a quaint, mostly intact home, sending the boys bouncing off each other, stopping abruptly.

“What is it, Julius? Did you see something?” Dain asked.

Julius observed the abode with a sorrowful expression. “This is the place where my friends lived.”

“It doesn’t look as bad as the other homes. It’s almost intact,” Dorian observed.

Julius slowly approached the front door and rested his hand on the knob.

“Please. Please don’t let me be right this time,” he whispered.

Julius twisted the knob and stepped inside. When he entered, the interior looked as if a struggle had taken place. The bookshelves were overturned. Tables and chairs lay strewn across the floor. Julius cautiously crept down the hallway while Dorian and Dain checked the other rooms. The house was quiet, dead. The heaviness of the silence and the smell of crumbling remains outside made their stomachs churn.

“Julius! Dorian! Get in here now!” Dain suddenly shouted, shattering the silence.

Dorian and Julius rushed to Dain’s location. The bodies of two people lay amongst a pile of destroyed furniture and debris, clutching hands. Julius approached the bodies, each step closer more reluctant than the last.

“Julius, is that them?” Dorian asked

“Yes. It is. Liana and Gerard.” Julius kneeled, reaching his hand toward them. His hand never touched, it hovered, reluctant to touch the bodies to confirm the reality. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you, my friends,” Julius said mournfully.

“I’m sorry, Julius,” Dain said softly.

“How did I not see this?”

“It’s not your fault, Julius. You couldn’t have known that Gothe would be attacked like this,” Dorian reassured.

“She…she isn’t here,” Julius murmured, his eyes searching the room.

“Who isn’t here?” Dain asked.

“They had a daughter. Kara. She isn’t here.”

“Maybe she escaped.”

“Perhaps she did.”

Julius realized that the bodies of his friends were the only two bodies that had not been charred beyond recognition. The house had been left in a relatively pristine condition compared to the dilapidated skeletal remains of the surrounding homes and cadavers. Julius’ worried eyes slowly turned toward his pupil’s curious stares.

“What?” Dorian asked.

“He knew I would come here. He burned all the other homes and bodies but left my friends intact because he knew I would come here. The petty bastard likes to get into your head, and right now, he wants to hurt me as much as possible,” Julius explained.

“Julius, what the hell happened between you two? Why does he hate you so much?” Dain asked.

“Some stories are better left forgotten. For now, we need to return to the grotto immediately.”

“Why? We should stay and look for survivors. We haven’t even checked the castle yet,” Dorian protested.

“Listen to me. We need to get back to the grotto now. He knew I would come here. If that is the case he may be close by or worse. He may find our home.”

Dain and Dorian looked at each other. A sickly feeling of dread filled their stomachs.

“No. He couldn’t. He can’t. We were hidden!” Dorian denied.

Dorian bolted from the house and back toward the gate. Julius’ concerned eyes confirmed Dain’s fear, and he followed after Dorian. Julius stayed behind for a moment to bid farewell to his fallen acquaintances. “Forgive me, my friends. I’m sorry, I could not help you. I promise…I will find Kara, and I will return for you to give you the proper burial that you deserve.”

Julius left the destroyed home, nearly stumbling from his bottled grief, and picked up a peculiar oval-shaped stone. He dug a small trench of dirt and laid the stone in the shallow crevice just outside the front door. He gave a solemn bow and followed after the boys. “Rest, my friends,” he whispered.

The three left the ruined city and rushed back to the grotto. The horses were pushed to their limits until they were forced to stop for a short rest. Night began to fall. Their rest was short-lived and they proceeded onward. Despite their exhaustion, they continued throughout the night with periodic rests. After hours of traveling, they finally arrived back at the grotto early the next morning. The sun brilliantly reflected off the river as birds chirped overhead. All seemed normal…until the smoke appeared in the distance.

“Do you smell that?” Dain asked.

Julius knew the smell. It was the smell of fire. A thick plume of smoke blanketed the area. Julius braced for the worst as Dorian and Dain trotted ahead toward the grotto. When they emerged from the woods, they halted their horses, frozen in disbelief. Genrou’s grotto was in ruins. The nearby stream was tinted red and filled with the bodies of the dead. The tavern had been destroyed, and their small home was smoldering.

“No, no! This can’t be happening!” Dain cried, bolting toward their destroyed home.

Dorian felt sick to his stomach. He was trapped in his nightmare again. Dorian stumbled off his horse, too shocked to feel anything. The fire spooked the horses, and they darted off into the woods. Julius reached for his mare’s saddle, only to miss, and watched his horse vanish with the others. Dorian wandered the destroyed village recounting memories of his childhood that had been so quickly destroyed. As Dain ran toward the house he saw a young woman lying nearby with a piercing wound through her chest. The world vanished and only she remained. He approached and kneeled to examine her. “Malina?”

Her clothing was bloodstained near her heart. Her pale blue eyes were still open, staring blankly into the sky. Dain slowly reached out to touch her face, afraid of what he might feel. When he felt her skin, it was cold and clammy. Dain fell forward onto Malina sobbing.

Dorian shambled around the ruined grotto, his eyes drifting from Dain to the crimson water. He couldn’t believe that everything he had once loved could be taken away from him so suddenly. He struggled to hold back his tears as he walked past his sobbing friend. Dorian peered through the broken window of their destroyed home. The inside was nearly unrecognizable. The fire seemed to take delight in the destruction of their childhoods as it burned away their belongings without regard. Julius felt that this would happen and shook his head in disappointment. He watched his pupils struggle to come to terms with the destruction of everything they had held dear.

“Paerlio!” Dorian screamed, his eyes darting frantically to locate his friend.

Dain looked toward the river with tears in his eyes. A slight movement along the bank caught his eye. His misty eyes widened, realizing yet another impending blow. “Dorian, the river!” He exclaimed, running toward the bank. Dain recognized Paerlio crawling from the bloody river gasping for breath. He was there in a flash, sliding beside Paerlio, hands ready to comfort his injured friend. “It’s okay, Paerlio. We’ve got you.”

Paerlio’s tattered clothes dangled from his wet, bloody body. Pieces of his skin had been singed and burned beyond recognition. “I–I can’t, Dain. I’m sorry,” Paerlio whispered.

Dorian gasped at the sight of his disfigured friend, pressing his hands against the back of his head, mortified. He kneeled next to Dain and gripped Paerlio’s shaking hand.

“Paerlio. What happened here?”

“T–the Baron. He stormed the grotto and set fire to everything. After that, he ordered his men to throw the bodies into the river. Malina challenged him. She fought back. She refused to let him take us without a fight and she stabbed one of the Baron’s men. The Baron’s female general killed her, pierced her heart…I…couldn’t stop her.”

Dorian and Dain sat in shock as their friend’s eyes grew dimmer. Paerlio coughed, and his tremors worsened.

“Hang in there, buddy. We can get you help. You’re going to be fine,” Dorian murmured, lying to himself to keep from crying.

“I…I’m sorry. I can’t. It hurts. It hurts so damn much…”

“Don’t give up…you can make it.”

“I…I’m sorry,” Paerlio replied with a wide smile. “Hey, Dain…stay out of the chicken coop…” Paerlio exhaled his last breath a moment later, still smiling. Dorian and Dain watched the last little sliver of life slip away from their wounded friend. Dain met Dorian’s eyes, looking for strength.

Neither gaze had what the other needed. They were both lost. Dain hung his head in silence. Dorian stared blankly into the bloody sea of pained faces floating in the river. He knew all of them, but he didn’t recognize them through their twisted and contorted grimaces. Dain stumbled back toward Malina, crying. Another look into her lifeless eyes sent him into another fit of sobs. Julius could feel their pain. It was a pain that he knew well. He was reluctant to leave, yet he knew the Baron would be coming back. They needed to leave and fast.

“Boys, we must go. We need to leave now.” “We can’t just leave!” Dain cried.

“Listen to me. The Baron knew we would come back. He has tricked us. Knowing him he probably found us weeks ago and devised a plan to lure us out and hurt us. We’ve been found. If we stay here he may return and kill us too. We have to go now.”

“He’s right, Dain. We have to go,” Dorian agreed.

Dain lowered his head and whispered to Malina’s corpse. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you, Malina…please forgive me,” Dain said and closed her eyes. He laid Malina’s head on the ground and joined Julius and Dorian. “Let’s go,” he said as he passed.

Dorian took one last look at the destroyed grotto and bid it farewell before retreating into the woods. It was a somber exodus filled with heavy sobs and unwilling steps against the crunching leaves, crackling like the fires behind them. Julius broke the silence as they gained distance, ready to devise their next course of action. “We need to find a safe place to gather ourselves,” Julius suggested.

“I think we have established that no place is safe, Julius. Gothe was safe, and now it’s gone. The grotto was safe, and it’s gone too. The whole damn countryside will probably combust into flames in a few minutes,” Dorian spitefully replied.

“Calm down, Dorian. We can’t afford to lose our heads now. We need to think.”

Dain took note of Julius’ inquisitive expression. “You know something, don’t you, Julius?”

“Yes. There is a town west of here called Cora. We may be able to find shelter there. We should be safe there for the time being. The journey will take about a day.”

“Well then, what are we standing around here for? Let’s get going. I bet there will be a bonfire just for us,” Dorian spitefully replied, impatiently walking ahead.

Julius knew the grief had taken its toll on his pupils. Their eyes carried the sullen expression of dead men, and their movements were sluggish. They were anchored ships, physically weighed down by their loss. Dorian tortured himself with whispers of failure and self-loathing, an old habit he often retreated into in times of stress. His thoughts swarmed with angry bitterness and smarmy contempt. Dain tried his best to focus on any good thought that his mind could find, blocking out the pain he felt with the phantasmal memories of Malina’s warm smile. They continued their arduous walk until sunset. Julius believed that they were close enough to get a few hours of rest and still make it to Cora by early morning. He urged the boys to rest while he prepped a fire. The boys dragged a downed tree trunk toward the fire and used it as a bench. They were surprised to see that Julius had started the blaze by the time they slid the trunk into place.

“I know you boys are hungry, so I’m going to see if I can find a stream to catch some fish.”

“I’ll come with you. Dorian, you coming?” Dain asked.

Dorian shook his head and stayed by the fire. After a few minutes of searching Julius and Dain found one of the many fresh streams that populated the lush countryside. They sat next to each other by the stream’s edge and took a moment to soak in the scenery. Julius pulled out an old bucket that he snagged before leaving the grotto and laid it down on the edge of the bank.

“I’m worried about Dorian, Julius.”

“To be honest, I’m concerned about both of you. I know you’re hurting too, Dain. You’re trying to cover it up, but you can’t fool me.”

“I know. It’s just too much to take in all at once.”

“I know, kid. I know. I understand all too well how you feel. The measure of a person is not what is seen in hindsight but what is done today to pave the way for tomorrow. The wounds will heal, Dain. They may leave scars but they always heal. How about we lighten the mood and catch some fish?” Julius suggested in a jovial manner.

Dain was surprised at his mentor’s casual reaction to the loss of their home. He figured Julius had known pain and had become callous to it.

Despite the grief, his mentor’s warm smile comforted Dain. “Why not?”

After nearly an hour, Julius and Dain had caught enough fish for a decent meal and returned to Dorian at the camp. Dorian sat rocking in silence when they returned. Julius sat the bucket next to the fire and set up an improvised rotary device with a few gathered sticks to spin the fish. Dain sat down next to Dorian, patting him on the back while Julius prepped the fish.

“You okay?”

“No. I just want to get to Cora as soon as possible.” “We will after we eat. I promise,” Julius replied.

Julius deboned the fish and skewed it using a metal rod he had brought. He placed the trout on the two makeshift sticks and began rotations over the fire. Dorian and Dain sat quietly, watching the fish slowly cook. The aroma wafted past their noses, teasing their rumbling stomachs, but all they saw was the fire. Once the fish was ready, Julius carefully divided the meal into portions and dispersed them onto three smooth, green leaves he had found near the stream.

“Eat up, boys. You need your strength.”

The three shared a modest meal to replenish their energy. Once finished, they gathered their things and continued toward Cora. After what seemed like an endless night of traveling, they arrived at the city gates in the early hours of the morning. The sentry guard spotted them approaching and prepared for contact. “Hold a moment! What is your business here?”

“My name is Julius, and these are my sons, Dorian and Dain. Our home was destroyed, and we seek refuge in Cora.”

“Were you followed?”

“No! Will you just let us in already?” Dorian erupted.

“Calm down, Dorian. It’s okay,” Dain reassured.

“No, we were not followed by the Baron or his forces if that is what you are asking,” Julius confirmed.

The guard searched the horizon for soldiers. “Permission granted,” the guard obliged and waved the gates open to the crank operators below.

Compared to the splendor of the once-great city of Gothe, Cora was a modest little nook. The town was surprisingly active despite the early morning hours and its small size. The décor was primitive, and the town itself was packed to the brim with unsavory and friendly people alike. The trio eventually came across the town tavern that doubled as an inn. Dain and Dorian looked at each other with a faint smile, both silently reminiscing. Dorian read the swinging wooden sign above the door and felt a twinge of bittersweet nostalgia.

“Traveler’s Gulch, huh?” Julius said to himself. The tavern reminded Dain of Malina, while Dorian recollected memories of the past.

“I am more than aware of our need to drown our sorrows, young men, but please behave yourselves in here,” Julius said.

Dain and Dorian locked eyes with each other, both gazed at the other with no intention of obeying, and entered the tavern behind Julius.