AveyarAveyar heard a whistle. It was almost like water flowing through his ears, sharp, yet strangely melodic. He whirled towards the source of the sound, and saw two woman at the front of the cave. Both were of unnatural beauty. Aveyar felt drawn to them both, something drove him to abandon his weapons and go to them. His grip loosened on his weapon...he...
Aveyar felt an Echo.
What was going on? He tightened his grip around his weapon, his mind suddenly clearing. He stepped towards them slowly, drawing his long sword and removing a handful of nails from his pouch.
Quote from: AveyarSpeak quickly, who are you?
Aveyar spread his wings menecingly and flicked his tail, raising it into the air.
They looked on edge. Aveyar was used to that, most thought of Faeleens as demons.
Varyn Pound them. Pound out the weakness. Pound it into a stronger form, like iron on an anvil. That's what he'd learned from the voice of the fire: the wise, yet cruel and ruthless voice that only he could hear. Varyn listened to Fire, despite the pleas and cries of the weaklings he beat mercilessly. If someone makes you angry, pound them. If they are too weak to pound back, then they are too soft and must be tempered. Varyn had the strength to temper the weak, he could change the world into something better and stronger. He could shape it like hot metal.
"No, please!" Emyr, the whiney orphaned farmhand cried out as Varyn threw him to the ground. Varyn smiled, not saying a word, and kicked Emyr in the ribs. Emyr could feel them crack against his food. Pound. Pound. Pound him. Pound out the weakness.
"What's going on?" Alyrn shouted, running outside. A large sword dangled from a thick leather belt, it looked rather out of place on the skinny man.
"I saw him stealing again. Thieves must be punished." Varyn said, smiling sweetly at Alyrn. "Don't you agree, mayor?"
Alryn's face turned slightly more red than usual, making his blue eyes look like a few sapphires in the coals of the hot bellows. "Leave." He said, his voice low and threatening.
Varyn stood motionless, folding his arms.
Alryn drew his sword. "Leave! You festering piece of-"
Pound. Varyn leapt forward, tackling Alryn to the ground. No one insults him without punishment. The mayor didn't react soon enough to make use of his sword. That meant he was weak. Pound him. Pound out the weakness. Alryn had always bothered Varyn. He was always glaring at Varyn, glaring at the innocent blacksmith's hand as he went about his work. But Alryn had never done anything to Varyn. So until this moment, Varyn was unable to gratify his desires. The fire knew how to act, and had told Varyn. You must never pound someone who has done nothing to wrong you. However, insulting someone's honor is even worse than hitting them with a mallet in the groin.
Varyn kept pounding. "Pound...pound." He started muttering quietly as he punched in the mayor's red face. He could hardly tell which was Alryn's skin, and which was the blood oozing out of the mass of his face. Varyn filled with excitement as he continued to pound. Alryn had always hated Varyn. He had always treated him as an outcast, but he favored the bastard Emyr. He treated Varyn, the son of a renowned blacksmith with scorn, yet befriended and loved the fatherless Emyr.
"Pound! Pound!" Varyn began shouting loudly, nearly screaming in delight. "POUND!" He felt a strange gooey substance as he punched the bloody mass of Alryn's face. It was...his brain. He'd killed Alryn. Horror flooded him. He'd lost control of himself, and become a criminal. The members of this town had every right to kill him.
The city guards tackled him, their heavy chainmail cutting into his skin as they forcefully tied him. But he had no right to resist. He'd shamed himself by murdering the mayor. They hadn't been in a dual, it wasn't a recognized battle. Sure, he'd been justified in regaining his honor by pounding Alryn, but this was too far. He was now a murderer. He didn't resist as the guards tied him to a tree. He hung his head and felt the wood piling around him. Murderers were burned at the stake. That way the filth of their souls would be cleansed from the town and not bring the wrath of Namu, the god of Justice, upon the city.
***
The entire city had gathered to watch his execution. The weak boys that he had so often pounded and tempered were at the very front, watching with egger expressions. They had been too weak and cowardly to fight back and regain their honor.
Varyn smirked at them. "You always wanted to see me burn, but lacked the courage to do it yourselves."
"Just watch me." Emyr ran and grabbed the torch out of one of the guards hand's and threw it on the dry wood. The other guards followed, and soon the fire was smoldering around his feet. The faint whispers of a weak fire became a booming voice as the fire flared to life, greedily devouring the dry wood.
"Varyn!" It shouted, a voice only he could hear. "You shall not die. You tarnished your honor, and you shall answer for your crimes." The voice grew louder every second as the fire flared up around him. However, Varyn didn't feel the heat of the flames. What was going on, it should be hotter than steel just out of the bellows.
"What....do you want from me?" Varyn managed to say as he choked on the smokey air. Despite the lack of heat, the smoke still bothered him.
"You are my chosen. You will obey my will and atone for your crimes. I speak for Namu, and you shall live. Now command the fire, and live."
Command the fire? What did Fire mean? He had no such power. "How..."
"I grant unto you power over fire. Now use it, and atone for your murder."
Varyn lifted up his hand, and focused his mind on the fire. He could feel it's presence in his mind. Then he understood. He moved the fire to cut his bonds. It felt like moving an arm, it was as natural as pounding iron with a hammer.