Spark of a Flame Chapter Two

The Prophecy

A thousand thoughts raced through Liam’s mind all at once. Had this man followed them here or had he just heard them playing? How long had he been waiting there and how much had he seen? But whenever he finally managed to speak, none of this came out of his mouth.

“I–I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” the man interrupted. “I’m one too.”

Liam’s breathing faltered.

These were the last words he had expected to hear from the stranger’s mouth. One what, a pyrend? 

The old man made a spark in the air with a snap of his fingers, addressing Liam’s confusion.

“I knew you were a pyrend the moment I saw you in the bakery… I was curious as to what you would be doing with your friend there.” He nodded at Pat.

“But how–” Liam stammered.

“I have my tricks,” he interjected with a smile. “Do your parents know what you do out here?” 

“We–we don’t always–” Pat started, but then lost his words. “No,” he finally said, deflated. 

“Well, be more careful,” the man scoffed at them. “You wouldn’t want those hot-headed pawns the queen uses for soldiers catching you.” 

“No, sir,” said Pat.

The old man paused, gazing over the pond, toward the setting sun.

Liam could feel his pulse pounding in his neck. What were this man’s true intentions, why was he here? Did the old man know Natalya from years ago, from before she went by Ballard?

“Alright” the old man said, “Well you boys better get home.” 

For a moment he paused, amused at the shock left on both Liam and Pat’s faces, then a glance or two later, he turned and started walking back toward town. “I’m sure I’ll see you again at some point,” he called out over his shoulder as he disappeared through the trees. 

Pat and Liam stood there, transfixed, both staring in the direction of the trees in which the old man had just disappeared. After a few moments, Pat spoke, breaking the silence.

“Well that was strange, I thought he was an ordil,” he said, referring to general, non-fire wielding population.

“That was the old man from work I told you about.” 

“I was wondering … I thought it looked like him,” Pat added, shaking his head.  “Hopefully, he keeps your little fire blast to himself…” 

“Not like you’re innocent either,” Liam jibed. 

“No, but I didn’t alert the whole town with my blast,” Pat laughed, nervous sweat glistening on his forehead.

He began to pick up the torn pieces of leather and bent metal that was the parmick ball. 

“You’re right though,” said Pat, holding up a piece of the shredded ball, “he really was strange.”

“I’m sure he’ll keep what he saw to himself,” said Liam, trying to convince himself more than Pat. “Would think so if he’s a pyrend too.”

“Yeah, and he didn’t seem too fond of the queen’s soldiers either, but he could also be lying to us, so we didn’t panic,” Pat ominously suggested.

Pat dropped the remaining pieces of parmick ball into a sack he’d brought with him.

“We’ll find out sooner or later.”

“Welp,” said Pat, with a deep sigh, “I think that’s enough adventure for one day…” he threw the sack over his shoulder. 

Liam could see Pat trying to hide his concern.

“See you tomorrow?” asked Pat, beginning to walk backward.

“Yeah, I’m off tomorrow. I’ll head over at some point.”

Pat held his thumb in the air, turned, and silently, walked away.

Liam looked back at the hole he’d made in the ground. His fingers twitched a bit at the sight, but within moments he followed suit and left in the opposite direction.

Liam’s journey home didn’t take long. Once he stepped back on the path, only a few minutes of walking remained. He thought about his encounter with the old man as he trudged through the foliage, soon appearing before a quaint house. His home was small, the chimney high. He climbed the front steps, sweaty from the day’s events, and opened the door. 

“Mom, I’m home!” he called out. 

The house was dimly lit, and tattered furniture covered the floors.

Natalya was reading on the couch in the main room. “Alright, dinner is on the table. Probably cold by now.”

Liam went to the kitchen. The small black stove still had the coffee pot on it from that morning.

“Lucemas,” said Liam, causing the sungems in each of the lamps around the room to light. The open window welcomed in a refreshing breeze. On the table was a newspaper and what was left of a chicken dinner. Liam pulled out a plate, tore off a drumstick, and dug in. The chicken was indeed cold, but he didn’t care; he was famished. There were some cooked carrots in a dish next to the chicken that he helped himself to as well. 

Once he had his fill, he sat back in his chair and looked around. He noticed the paper once more; a column article caught his attention. The town’s paper, the Kalston Journal, typically covered larger stories in surrounding cities–– a newspaper solely focused on Kalston would be a rather small one if truth be told. Liam reached for the Journal. The paper was thick, the letters perfectly scripted.

Rebels Stir Trouble. More Problems for the Queen.

Though the initial adjustment period was a bumpy ride, the ignegic ban has seen no significant protest in several years; until now. The last two moon cycles have been plagued with pyrend rebellions leaving those to question the pending response from the queen. Although some of these outbreaks are mere annoyances, others have left royal soldiers injured and their supplies compromised. The rebellious acts have not all been linked, so we are unsure if they are coordinated or simply a handful of indignant pyrends, though the recent and simultaneous appearance of the acts lead us to believe the prior…

The article went on with warnings to be careful, an interview with the owner of a damaged shop, and questions of what would happen next. Liam stood from the chair and walked toward the doorway to join his mother in the sitting room. He passed a drawing of himself his mother had hanging on the wall. If what that article said was true, his mother wasn’t the only one frustrated with the queen and her actions. Could this be an organized rebellion? If so, who could be leading it? Though frankly, Liam couldn’t see what ordils could be complaining about. It was pyrends that were unable to use their abilities. Ordils  still used enchanted objects such as sungems and parmick balls. If a pyrend rebellion or two happened, Liam hardly considered it surprising.

Liam sat next to his mother.

“Feel any better?” he asked.

She sighed.

“I think so, yes,” she responded. “The coffee helped a bit,” she said with a smile. “Thanks again.”

Liam shifted his weight on the couch. 

“Saw the new soldiers,” he said, hoping she would weigh in.

She set the small book on the table and looked at Liam. “I saw them too,” she admitted, her face sad. “Made it out of the house for an hour or so.”

“Did you recognize them?” 

Natalya sat on the question for a few moments before answering, “No… We’re good.”

Liam nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

“D’you see that article in the Journal?”

“Yes, I found it somewhat interesting.”

“Do you think it will amount to anything, the protests?”

She ran her fingers through her hair and let out a long sigh. 

“I think they may. The timing is noteworthy,” she commented, glancing out the window. “If it does amount to anything, I’m sure it won’t be long lived.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Liam responded with a frown. “And besides, don’t you want the ban lifted? You’ve never approved of the queen’s ways.” 

He knew how much she hated the ban, she didn’t even like him mentioning it. For her to say anything otherwise was senseless in his eyes. He remembered a time when his mother would drone on of greater meanings for pyrends. She told him that mankind was granted the use of ignegic to protect and serve the kingdoms. She passionately spoke of fire as light, not something to be covered up, adding that where there is light, darkness cannot be. 

“Maybe someday, the ban will be repealed,” Liam suggested cautiously. “Then we could go about our day without having to constantly look over our shoulder,” he said with a little bitterness.

The old man was still fresh on his mind.

“I know,” said his mother, “but if something isn’t fixed the right way, it may as well stay broken.”

She looked at him. Her dark straight hair framed her face. Her cheek bones were high, and her blue eyes stood out like two jewels. Her voice was soft, but from personal experience Liam knew how frightening it could get. She always wore the same necklace; the necklace was long, had some aged symbol on it Liam had never been able to decipher, and looked as if it were missing a gem in the center. 

“Well how do you know this isn’t the right way?” he finally responded. 

She smiled at him and put her arm around his shoulders. “I think you’ll know the right way when you see it.”

“You and your vagueness!” he joked. 

She laughed. 

“I’m not as vague as you think I am!” she replied, shaking him a bit. “Anyway, how was the bakery? Did Mrs. Bernette stop by?”

“No, I didn’t see her today”

“Well I guess she doesn’t want that pot she lent us anytime soon, it’s been weeks!” she said with her eyebrows raised. “So, nothing new then?”

“Well there was this old man that came in,” Liam admitted hesitantly, deciding it best to tell her. “He seemed more interested in the shop’s name than the bread itself.”

Natalya paused for a moment.

“Did he buy anything?”

“No, but he looked surprised when I told him our family name was Ballard.”

She crossed one leg over the other and gave Liam a side look.

He knew she didn’t want anyone to connect them with being pyrends, unmarked ones at that. As the Fosnik topic proved to be a bit touchy with her, he moved on. “Before he left, he asked if you were in, so I thought you might have known him.”

“And you didn’t recognize him from town?” 

Liam shook his head. 

“What did he look like?” she asked.

“Well he was old but seemed to be fit for his age. He had white hair and a goatee. I think he said his name was Ven? Maybe Ren? I can’t remember.” Liam skipped over the fact that the old man had caught him doing ignegic. 

“Strange,” said his mother. 

Her eyes gazed off into the distance.

“Does he ring a bell?” Liam asked slowly. 

“No, I can’t say that he does,” Natalya replied, concentrating particularly hard on the floorboard. 

Liam had a feeling that she wasn’t being entirely honest.

“Okay,” he said skeptically, “but if you’re sending your old school buddies to spy on me when I work––”

“Are you calling me old?” She exclaimed jovially, gently pushing him.

“Well not that old, no bu–” 

“Liam Ballard!” she said standing up, laughing. 

“Go to my room?” he suggested, raising an amused brow.

“Actually, I was going to suggest you go bathe yourself. You smell like Mr. Hesk over at Boar’s.”

“Oh, now who’s being rude?” he joked back. She waved him on as she left for the kitchen.

“Go clean up, I’m going to get myself a glass of wine,” she called from the pantry. 

The remainder of the night was over in what felt like minutes. A few more jokes were exchanged, but before Liam knew it, he was already in bed. Exhausted, he fell asleep immediately; it had been a while since he had a day that was not so ordinary.

The following morning dawned much sooner than Liam would have liked. He once again laid in his bed motionless for quite some time before sitting up. Dim morning light glowed through his window, revealing his somewhat untidy room. There was a chest of drawers in the corner, a lamp stand embezzled with sungems at the top, and several articles of worn clothing on the floor. 

He yawned, irritated for again waking up earlier than needed, though this time on his day off. It only took Liam a few minutes of failed attempts before he gave up the notion of falling back asleep, so before he knew it, he was swinging his legs over the side of the bed, standing up, and stretching. He slid on some pants and a loose shirt, and tottered into the dark hall, checking to see if his mother had already left. 

As he approached the sitting room, he heard his mother’s voice. 

“Well what do you want me to do?” she asked, plainly vexed.

“Something! You can’t hide forever!” he heard a deep voice respond. 

What sleepiness there was in Liam immediately drained. He froze in place just before reaching the sitting room, petrified. There’s no way, he thought. But sure enough, as he poked his head around the hall door frame, just far enough to see into the room, he saw the old man from the bakery talking to his mom. 

Liam quickly withdrew his gaze, hiding behind the wall. He knew it! He knew his mom had lied about knowing the old man, or was it the other way around? Had she contacted the man to make a visit or had he just shown up at the house unsolicited? In any case, Liam listened carefully from the hallway, desperately hoping Ren –or whatever the man’s name was– would not mention the ignegic mishap from the day before. Liam could feel his heart pulsing. 

“I’ve done something before Ren and look where that got me. Where it got all of us for that matter.” Natalya said. “And don’t speak to me of doing nothing, where have you been for all these years? Where were you when I needed help near Romton? Or when the ban and the markings were put into place?”

“I know. I should have been there for you, for your family,” Ren stated apologetically. “After I left the school, I lived in Amedish for many years.”

“With the elves?” Natalya asked, surprisingly. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But I’m here now, and I know you’ve noticed the signs.”

“I would hardly consider a few rebellions as proof of the–”

“Not just those,” said Ren.

Liam didn’t hear either of them for a moment, had Ren stood up?

“The phoenixes,” said Ren, finally breaking the silence. “They’ve been flying south, there are hardly any left this far north of the kingdom, surely you’ve noticed.”

“Phoenixes are rare Ren.”

“Yes, but they still exist Natalya. I’ve seen an unusual amount in the sky recently, all flying south.” 

Liam peeked around the corner; his mother was sitting in the chair. Ren was standing a few feet in front of her with his back turned. He was running his hand through his white hair. 

“And you can bet the queen has noticed,” he added quietly, turning around. Liam quickly withdrew his head for a second time. 

“I won’t deny that it’s been on my mind recently,” Liam’s mother responded. “But what makes you think Renalia would…” she paused. 

“She’s taken action out of fear before,” said Ren pointedly.

“I realize that,” Natalya responded sharply.

“Well I wouldn’t be surprised if she started increasing her soldier count, checking the registration act, retesting people for ignegic.”

“She wouldn’t go that far, everyone’s already tested as a child. They were marked along with everyone else known to be a pyrend when she passed her ridiculous act.” Liam could tell from her tone that she was irritated. “Even if she did, she wouldn’t bother with Kalston. She never has…”

“You never know Nat, you made it through unmarked, I’m sure she won’t be taking chances… Don’t grow too comfortable… the prophecy is unfolding, and your son is the last descendant of Jensuvan’s line.”

She snorted.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments. Liam watched for shadows moving near the doorway, readying himself to dive around the corner.

“We’ve thought you dead all these years you know… everyone has,” said Ren. “I started to think the prophecy was wrong, a hoax, and then I find that you weren’t only alive but had a son!” he yelled with some exasperation. 

“Quiet,” she warned, voice icy. “You’ll wake him up– He normally sleeps in on his days off.”

Liam heard Ren take a deep breath, then a hollow chuckle.  

“You haven’t told him, have you?” 

“Told him what?”

“Anything!” he exclaimed.

“He knows he is a Fosnik,” she stated matter of factly. 

“He needs more than that Nat. He can’t live in isolation from the world, ignorant of the prophecy and that it very likely pertains to him… At least he knows he isn’t a Ballard,” he added as if this somewhat made up for the secrecy.

“Well what was I supposed to do Ren?” she demanded. “Tell a child that their whole life is already defined, that they have no choice in how it is to be lived?”

“That’s not true Natalya.”

“It seemed so for me. When I thought it referred to me all those years ago, I–” she paused, “Well you know how it ended.”

“The past is the past. It’s time to move on… for both of us.”

Natalya cleared her throat.

“Look, Ren, I appreciate your concern, but you can’t just show up after decades and expect me to rearrange my life. I’m sorry.” There was a moment’s pause, silence so thick Liam could feel it pressing on his ear drums.

“Me too,” Ren replied. “Me too.”

“Now I’m late for work, the bakery should have opened half an hour ago.” 

Liam heard her walking about the room now. His heart was jumping in his chest.

“I need to leave Ren… Good day,” she said. 

Liam heard the creak of the front door open. 

“Good day,” Ren echoed defeatedly. 

After a few footsteps, he heard the door clap shut.

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