The Saving Fire

Drake, a youth of near eighteen with fair hair and piercing blue eyes, trod over the bulwark of the castle that he lived in with his family. It had been three-hundred years since the world had fired the nuclear missiles that had destroyed modern civilization, and many strange things had resulted. Drake was of large stature and had muscles hardened by fitness of every kind. He had a signum of a flowering flame on the inside of his right forearm. He wore his cuirass because even though they were out of sight, he knew the Graggs were on their way to attack. The barbarians had already taken over the nearby town and killed many, as the lamentation of the survivor who had fled to the castle has told, and now, they were marching across the fen toward the castle that Drake's father King Koral owned. Drake ran down and came to his parents sitting in the courtyard; his mother was embellishing the end of a dress, and his father was reading the letter from the Othtin, the leader of the Graggs, who was trying to dissuade them from resisting. Drake knew his father would refuse the letter, because he had never given into the Graggs when they had come before, and he always protected the homeless. They had strong gates of linden and many accoutrement to defend the castle stoutly, but if they failed, at least they would die as warriors. Additionally, the castle had many retainers that could fight if necessary. Koral handed Drake a ring, whose stone seemed to contain a vibrant flame that pulsed and moved, and told him that if all was lost, he was to run through the secret passage and continue through the marshes to find safety.

It had been over two years since the Graggs had taken over King Koral’s castle and killed everyone. Drake had been the only one to escape the death and devastation that Othtin had brought to the land. He had attacked cloisters with his mercenaries and killed monks, friars, and prioress. He had no honor or respect for the things of the church, or for those who belonged to it. Othtin was a dirty wanton. He had wreaked havoc among the land putting peasants and pardoners to the sword alike, and now it seemed that the whole land was under his tyrannical reign.

Drake had built up a small band of forty battle-hardened men, who swore fealty to him and were also survivors of the Gragg's terrors. They all had been drawn to his leadership and believed in his mission to kill Othtin and return peace to the land. One day while drinking from some flagons and watching the hustle and liveliness of the market, there came from behind them a cry of “Out of the way varlets!” Drake turned and saw from their dress a group of youths his age or older, who appeared to be the sons of yeomen and franklin. Drake stood defiantly with an air of chivalry, but nonetheless felt contempt for comment and its giver. “We move as we please and never for such a boorish lad,” he replied. The leader took a step towards him and drew a dagger. He thrust it into Drake's chest, thinking to end this impudent peasant, but Drake’s corselet, being worn under his shirt, blocked the thrust. The lad recoiled with disgust, and Drake took a step towards him; Drake’s eye began to glow the color of lightning. He turned his palms upward, and in each sprang up a dancing blue flame. The faces of the instigators turned to horror. Drake thrust his hands forward, sending a pulsing blue fire shooting at the instigators, who quickly ran in terror. They ran into a nearby tavern where music could be heard emanating from the open doors. Ere long, a large a group emerged, following the instigators whose clothes were all burnt, but wisely Drake and his band had already left. They did not want to have the Gragg guards called for them, and as the band hurried through the woods Drake's eyes returned to their vibrant blue.

Drake and his band of renegades quickly traveled for the rest of the day rather quickly and headed deep into the forest. They knew that no troops would venture deep in the forest, especially after only forty well armed-men for the night. The band had grown from just a few, to a group who was formidable in a fight. It was made up of both rich, poor, educated, uneducated, and many others who survived Othtin’s attacks. Regardless of their status, they all did not bow to Othtin and would fight to the death to protect each other. They had traveled a long time, passing small hamlets, sepulchers and pyers. The daylight began to dwindle, so Drake decided to make camp in a deep thicket that had plenty of wood for a fire and whose foliage would obscure the smoke and light. The group gathered wood and had shot several deer to eat.

The group was sitting in a circle around the fire laughing and eating the cooked meat. Soon they lay down in various areas and succumbed to the allure of sleep. Drake arose for the last watch of the night and stood leaning against a tree; his blue crystal eyes staring into the the dark forest that had begun to awaken with the sun's light. Suddenly a twig snapped on the edge of the campsite. Drake, whose hearing was exceptional, heard the sound over the wind and creaking of the trees. He made a few quick stride toward the sound and leapt over a fallen log and caught the culprit by the collar of his shirt as he fled. He dragged the languishing figure into the middle of the camp, and the aroused band crowded around the culprit, as Drake thrust him to the ground. By the look of the armor and the intruder’s snake insignia, it was clear he was a Gragg scout. He jumped to his feet and reached for his sword, drawing it and striking at the closest man. In a flash Drake was in front of his comrade, eyes blazing, and catching the blade in mid air, melting the blade with his flaming palms. With a quick thrust of his hand, Drake sent a pulse of blue fire like a lightning strike right through the intruder, and he dropped dead to the ground. “This is a scout; that means Othtin is on his way and will be here shortly, so every man grab what you can with haste and follow me,” said Drake while catching up his sword. The whole band soon was at his side, and they broke the cover of the woods as they had to cross an open field to reach another section of the country. They had no sooner reached the open terrain when they saw a dark mass on the side they wished to reach. A trumpet sounded, and a hail of arrows came careening directly at the huddled band. Drake lifted his blazing eyes and hands, and he let out a wide burst of blue flame that devoured the arrows. Othtin let out a menacing laugh that echoed like thunder through the valley, and with that, the dark mass of Graggs came dashing towards the band like a crashing wave. They all drew their weapons to make a stand, be it their last or not. Othtin at the head of his amoeba of men came straight for Drake, cutting down three that tried to bar his reaching to their leader. He met Drake in a whirlwind of attacks, sweeping and stabbing with his jagged sword. Drake stood his ground, eyes ablaze, sending burst after burst of blue fire at Othtin, but Othtin seemed unphased, and with a wild slash, his blade laid a jagged cut across Drake’s face. Drake, crying out in pain, sprang forward catching Othtin’s sword and melting it instantly to nothing. He grabbed him by his throat and hurled him into the air. As soon as Othtin hit the ground, Drake brought both hands together and sent on arking beam of blue fire straight into his body burning him to ash within seconds. The whole battle seemed to come to a stand still, and everyone turned their eyes to Drake, who stood in the middle with furrowed brow and blood running down his face. His clenched fists and forearms were engulfed in rippling blue flames that danced and jumped and seemed to want to leap out at the next thing that moved. The Graggs suddenly fled in terror, and Drake’s band chased them, as arrows flew and fire turned the enemy to ash. Drake freed the people of the land from the oppression and tyranny of Othtin and the Graggs. He avenged his father and became the protector of the land, using his flames to save.