The Land Set Aflame

Chapter 2: The Lambent Lights

"Mr. Moon! Mr. Moon!"

Svenden recognized the frenzied voice of Leofric Banin coming from the north. He turned to see the scholar wizard running, in his classically awkward style, one hand holding down his shoulder bag full of spell ingredients while the other flailed wildly about.

In the short time he'd known Leofric, Svenden had come to see him as the type who was easily flustered, always lacking sleep, and routinely lost in the quagmire of over-analysis. Not exactly the type of man you want to have in charge when a wildfire threatens your village.

Svenden tried not to judge: it wasn't Leofric's fault that the real leader had chosen not to return this season without telling anyone. And Svenden rather liked Leofric, anyway.

"That's Melser's Kitchen!" Leofric continued, "It's heading right for the tavern!"

"It's a weird one!" Svenden called back, "I shot it, and it jumped right at me! I don't know if I'll be able to drive it for you!"

"Then you might have to try the ritual yourself," Leofric said as he closed the distance, breathing heavily, "Have you got the dust?"

"You know I can't do it, Leofric," Svenden said, "It has to be you. You're the only one who knows it."

"But if it jumps towards you again, we might need you to throw the dust," Leofric said.

Svenden shook his head. He wasn't about to try doing magic again. "First thing is to get it out of your town," he said, "It's going right towards the tavern. Come on! You loop around that way and make sure it doesn't get further into town. I'll shoot it from this side, and see if that pulls it south again. Maybe it'll just burn out outside of town."

Without waiting for a response, Svenden raced after the fleeing elemental, knowing that he could never hope to keep up with a hurtling ball of flame, just as Leofric could never hope to keep up with him. What he was going to do if he caught up to the thing, he didn't know. Shoot it, probably. But, with the village of Kernohest on the line, they didn't really have the time to stop and think of a better plan.

And they certainly didn't need him, Svenden Moon, trying magic again.

At the far side of the marketplace, the warm lights of Melser's Kitchen flooded the surrounding area, where large numbers of overflow patrons were seated at temporary tables right out on the cobblestone road. There was laughter and conversation, accompanied by music and the clinking of dishes in the dining room and kitchen. Apparently, people on this side of the marketplace hadn't yet gotten the message that there was a rogue elemental in town.

But then, why would they be worried? The wildfires were still a mile away, and the druids were still holding the lines. Mostly. In the chill of autumn, rogue elementals never lasted long this far from the wildfires that spawned them. Almost never.

And in spite of the militiaman's dire warnings, there really wasn't that much in Kernohest that was on fire at the moment.

Somebody in the crowd finally noticed the minor spirit of destruction approaching, and a shout of surprise rang out from the tavern. An uncoordinated chorus of shouts and screams followed as the crowd began parting, fleeing their tables and steering clear of the spirit's path. But without any provocation, the elemental suddenly changed course, pivoting sharply northward and away from the crowd.

Towards the middle of town.

It disappeared behind the nearest building, the blacksmith's shop, and out of Svenden's line of sight.

Svenden growled in frustration. He couldn't hope to catch it now, and Leofric would never get there in time to cut it off. He picked up his pace, feeling his legs burn as he ran swiftly over the last stretch of open ground before the roads. Human legs were just not up to the task, but they were all he had to work with at the moment.

The wooden ring on his index finger suddenly felt very heavy, but he ignored it. No time for that now.

He became vaguely aware that the crowds had suddenly stopped panicking and were now just staring in confusion and wonder in the direction the flame spirit had fled. But he noticed that he could still see lambent lights dancing along the ground, indicating that, for whatever reason, the elemental was lurking just around the corner.

It had stopped moving?

Probably drawn to the heat of the blacksmith's furnace, Svenden decided. That was convenient for him: elementals were easier to hunt when they stopped moving.

As he came around the building and slowed his pace in preparation, his bow was up again and the string was taut, ready to loose the next arrow. But he was surprised to see that the elemental was just standing still, looking for all the world like an innocent pillar of fire reaching up towards the sky.

He held his arrow, warily watching for any signs that the rogue elemental was about to jump or lurch again. Maybe he wouldn't need to shoot it. Maybe they'd get lucky, and it would just stand there until Leofric came around the other side. Maybe it would...

Svenden gradually became aware of something else that was standing beside the inexplicably docile fire spirit. Beyond the elemental, he saw the lambent lights playing softly across a face. It was a pretty face: pale and smooth and freckled, wrapped around a pair of large, hazel eyes, and in turn surrounded by an angelic halo of golden-red hair that was just emerging from beneath a green hood as the woman pulled it back.

It took a moment for his mind to catch up with his eyes, and when it did, his breath caught in his throat. A dozen almost-forgotten memories flooded back: the smell of the forest in springtime, the fluttering of cherry blossoms on the breeze, hooves pounding on hardened mud, and the touch of warm fingers on his wounded back.

A little ember of fire burning in his chest.

"Callyndia!" he breathed.

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In this chapter, we get to see some of the chinks in our hero's armor: he's scared of magic, apparently? Maybe scared of girls, too? Still pretty heroic though, right?