The world around Relmus was dark, soft and heavy, like the thick fog that sometimes rolled over the wilds in the early mornings. "Death? Is this it?" He asked himself. But the memories began to emerge, he felt that his life was flashing before his eyes.
Relmus opened his eyes, he was holding a bow. Not his, but his grandfather's bow. He looked around and realized he was young, no older than seven or eight, standing beside his grandfather at the edge of the forest, the scent of pine and damp earth thick in the air. Dargos had placed the bow in his small hands, its rough wood unfamiliar, heavy in his grip. "Remember," Dargos's voice rumbled, deep like the earth itself. "A bow is not just a tool for hunting. It is a promise. A promise that you will only take what you need. Don't kill for pride. Don't kill for sport. Respect the life you take." Relmus had nodded, trying to mimic Dargos's stance, awkward and clumsy, his fingers too small to wrap around the string properly. He had tried to shoot the arrow into the soft bark of a tree, but it had fallen short, missing its mark by several paces. Dargos had watched him in silence, then grunted with a rare chuckle. "You won't kill anything with a shot like that." He had placed his hand on Relmus's shoulder, guiding him into a more stable stance. "Try again, but this time, listen. The bow doesn't just move your hands. It moves your heart. You aim with your soul." The memory shifted, and Relmus was older now, standing beside Dargos at the edge of the forest once more, only this time, there was a deer in the distance, its sleek body grazing unaware. Relmus could feel his heart pounding as he raised the bow. This time, his aim was true, his fingers steady. He felt the rush of power, of certainty, until a flicker of hesitation curled inside him. "You've hunted before, boy. Why hesitate now?" Dargos's voice came from behind him, not harsh, but steady with patience.
"I… I don't want to kill it," Relmus had whispered. He could still feel the pain of those words now, as he relived them. "It's… it's alive."
Dargos had knelt beside him then, his hand on Relmus's arm. "All life is part of the land's cycle. What we kill, the land replaces. But you must understand, killing isn't about what you take. It's about what you give. If you take its life, you honor it. You don't waste it. And you don't mourn it forever." The words had echoed a strange weight, as if Ogun himself had spoken through Dargos. The fire god, whose flame had once sparked the creation of the Baros people, was known to shape warriors through the trials of fire. Relmus could feel the heat, though it was cold in the air, a fire that burned not in the world, but in the heart. The memory fractured again, this time to a different hunt. Relmus, older now, had walked beside Dargos on a harsh winter morning, snow falling like ash around them. The land was barren, the trees skeletal and twisted. They had tracked an elk for days, its footprints barely visible beneath the fresh snow. Relmus had felt the strain in his legs, the cold biting into his bones, but he had kept moving, knowing his grandfather's eyes were always on him.
"Remember what I told you, Relmus. The hunt is not just a chase. It's a lesson. In patience. In resilience. In knowing when to strike and when to wait. And Ogun watches."
Relmus had nodded, exhaustion pulling at his body. His bow was heavier than ever. They had found the elk in the clearing, its breath coming out in cold, steamy puffs. It had looked at them, eyes full of knowledge and fear, but it had not run. Relmus had taken aim, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
He hesitated again.
But this time, Dargos had spoken, his voice low and full of meaning. "Strike now, Relmus. Or the land will claim what you have failed to take. Ogun's fire is within you, but fire can consume. Control it or be consumed."
Relmus had drawn the bow, releasing the arrow, his hand shaking. The elk had collapsed, and there had been no triumph in his chest. Only a quiet sorrow. But Dargos had placed a hand on his shoulder, and his voice had been steady.
"The land is our provider, but it doesn't owe us anything. Ogun doesn't promise us easy paths, Relmus. He gives us fire to fight with, but it is up to us how we wield it. We honor what we take, and we carry the flame with respect." Relmus's chest tightened in the dream, his body aching as the memories flashed by, each one pressing on him. He remembered the moments of quiet after the hunts, sitting with Dargos by the fire, listening to the crackling wood, the wind howling outside the tent.
"Ogun watches," Dargos had once said, his voice a whisper against the crackling flame. "He is in the fire. He tests us. But we must never forget, we are the ones who must endure the trials he sets before us."
Fading in and out, Relmus was trying to climb a cliffside with other kids. But due to his smaller built body he couldn't stretch or even pull himself up like the other kids. He was much, much smaller. He hated being small, he wanted to be strong, and large like his father. Yet, he felt disappointed.
"You don't have to be like everyone else, Relmus," Dargos had said, breaking the silence, his face lined with wisdom. "Your heart will lead you. Just be sure it knows where it's going before you start. Besides, it would be boring to be like everyone else."
Relmus opened his eyes, it was the very moment the Zuli had attacked, only, Relmus was much younger, like when he first held his grandfather's bow. He watched his grandfather look him in the face, grin, and then begin to fade into ash repeating the words; "You are not Baros by blood, but you are my grandson. Never forget that. Ogun's fire burns in you, Relmus. Never let it consume you." The blue-black flames surrounded his body, he too began to fade into ash, he screamed, but nothing came out.
Relmus slept, his body twisted in a haze of fever, he could hear Dargos's voice faintly in the background. The words pressed on him, their weight both a comfort and a burden. And as the memories drifted away like the wind, Relmus stirred in his sleep, the fire inside him crackling quietly in response. Two sunrises and sunsets had painted the sky since Relmus collapsed.The Baros camp, though still bearing the deep scars of the Zuli attack,scorched earth, splintered wood, and the lingering scent of loss,had begun the arduous process of healing. Tents were mended with rough patches of hide, fires were rekindled with trembling hands, and the quiet murmur of daily life slowly returned.Yet underneath it all thrummed a somber undercurrent. The memory of the elders' sacrifice hung heavy in the air, woven into every whispered prayer and cautious glance toward the horizon. It was a constant reminder that survival had not come without cost. Stones were erected for the fallen during the Zuli attack.
Relmus lay still, wrapped in a sleep that bordered on the unnatural. The strange energy that had surged through him had left him utterly drained, his body hollowed out and his spirit battered thin. The blue-black residue that had once burned so fiercely on Dargos' axe, lying near his makeshift bed of furs, had faded to a dull, charcoal grey, a ghost of the inferno he had unleashed.
The tent around him was thick with the smell of burnt canvas, damp earth, and the acrid sting of old smoke. Outside, the distant crackle of a blacksmith's hammer echoed, steady and rhythmic, grounding the camp in fragile normalcy.
Kaya gently shook his shoulder."Relmus? Relmus, wake up."
Her voice cut through the haze. Relmus stirred, his eyelids heavy, reluctant to obey. The world swam sluggishly into focus. Kaya's soft face hovered above him, she looked utterly exhausted and now amused by a flicker of hope. Relief, and caution, warred in her eyes. Relmus coughed weakly, his throat dry as ash. He blinked, forcing himself upright. Around him, the mended tent's familiar patterns danced across the hides, but they now seemed heavier, etched with a history too brutal to ignore.
"The attack... the Zuli..." he rasped. The memories struck him like a hammer: the shrieks, the blinding heat of the Warming Death, the shape of shadow looming amid flame and ruin.
"They are gone," Kaya said softly. Her voice was low but sure, anchored against the rising tremor in his own chest. "Thanks to the courage of the elders... and to you."
Relmus looked down at his hands, palms up, searching for proof of what he had become. They looked ordinary. No unnatural flames. No searing brands of power. Only the worn callouses of a boy who had trained too young and bled too often. Had it all been a dream? A fevered hallucination brought on by terror and despair? But the memory of the armored Zuli soldier's terror-stricken face, melted and broken before his eyes, seared into him with cruel clarity. The unnatural heat still clung faintly to his skin, deep beneath the surface, like the memory of a deep wound long after the flesh had healed. The axe sitting nearby. Waiting. Remembering. And beneath it all, an unease gnawed at him. Could he control it? Or would he, like the elders who unleashed the Warming Death, burn himself alive the next time it surfaced? The fire inside him did not feel like a gift. It felt like a coiled beast, crouched in his ribs, ready to consume him if he faltered even once. Then the most painful thought seized him. Bobon. "The boy..." Relmus gasped, pain lancing through his side as he sat up fully. "What of Bobon?"
Kaya's expression faltered. She tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. "He was gravely injured," she said, her voice brittle. "When you found him barely breathing, I brought him to the healers tent. The lightning... it–."
Relmus felt his heart squeeze in his chest as he interrupted wanting the truth. "Is he...?"
"He's alive," Kaya said quickly, her hand reaching instinctively to steady him. "But he hasn't woken. His burns are deep. We healers have done all we can... but we must let Ogun decide his fate. I don't know if he will ever fully recover."
"Ogun decide? Ogun has only let us die." His anger brewed until a crushing weight settled on his shoulders. He closed his eyes against the sting of tears, willing the guilt away, but it anchored deep. "I should have protected him. I should have urged him to come along with me..."
"You didn't bring this upon him," Kaya murmured, her hand firm on his arm. "None of us knew what was coming. Then you stepped in to help us. Most of us believed you invoked the Warming Death yourself, but the flame shifted from white to blue. A shadow... some saw it, others only glimpsed it when your fire blazed brightest." She continued. "The color of the fire, no one alive has seen it before. Blue flames with black etched at the ends. Some whisper it was Ogun himself who came to help us survive. Others..." she glanced around the tent, lowering her voice, "...fear it was a curse."
Before Relmus could respond, the tent flap rustled. Emaev pushed inside, her face pale, her hair mussed with dust and grief. Her eyes locked onto Relmus, wide and pleading.
"Relmus..." she whispered. She struggled to compose herself seeing her son awake and alive. Grabbing a hold of him. "Dhutorn... the hunting party... they haven't returned."
Relmus felt a jolt of cold race up his spine. He sat up straighter, ignoring the protest of his battered body.
"We sent scouts," Emaev continued."They found... signs of a struggle. Zuli markings. And..."Her hands, trembling violently, extended something toward him. "His axe," she choked. It was splintered almost beyond recognition.The once-proud weapon was snapped clean through the haft, stained dark with blood and ash. Relmus stared at it. Dhutorn, his father, the voice that had taught him to carve wood and wield a blade, gone? Captured? Slaughtered like an animal in the ruins of the forest? A low sound built in Relmus' throat. It was not quite a sob, not quite a growl. It was a promise, raw, primal, and seething.
"The Zuli need to pay for this!" Relmus shouted.
After a long, breathless moment, Relmus rose from his bed. Kaya tried to stop him, but he brushed her off with surprising strength. Emaev followed him outside where the camp bore even worse scars than he had imagined: tents gutted and blackened by fire, pathways torn into craters, gardens and livestock pens reduced to ash and ruin.
"I had this mended for you." Emaev said, handing Relmus his once broken bow.
Relmus nodded and hugged his mother for a moment. "I need to go for a walk, I must see all of it."
"They spread the ashes towards the north, there are markers there for them." Emaev said, as Relmus walked past her. He made his way to the shallow graves outside the encampment, his every step was stiff with pain, pain that grew every time he saw the looks from his people. All grieving over lost ones. He could not stop, not until he could see what was left of his grandfather, maybe it was a joke, maybe he was just sitting there waiting with a grin. He saw all the tattered and lightning-burned tents, trees, and horses. He stopped to catch his breath, though his wounds had healed physically, mentally he had torn open them again. A ray of light shone through trees overhead, catching a glimpse of something that had been left behind. Armor that didn't belong in the Baros camp shined against the sun as it laid half buried in the earth. Relmus collected it into his hands to look over the armor. Then he noticed something that sent chills down his spine. It was the first Zuli he struck down. The armor was cut in half, the metal of the armor appearing to be melted in the cut. Relmus threw the armor as far as he could, but for him it was still within distance to see. He felt his neck, the shard he gave Bobon was gone still. No one had replaced it, so he laid in the bed without it. Whoever came to visit him, saw that he no longer had been wearing the shard. Two days. Why didn't it kill him? Why wasn't he cursed? It would be the one thing he could have had in common with his family. Cursed to wear the shard along with everyone else. He was fueled with rage, He felt the cold fire burning deep. Yet, his palms were bare, unremarkable. No fire. No curse. Just a boy who had lived when others had not.
Just past the armor were the stones to remember each of the fallen elders during the attack. He knelt before the stones marking the final resting place of his grandfather and the other elders. Closing his eyes, Relmus let the memory once again of Dargos' last words wash over him: "You are not Baros by blood, but you are my grandson. Never forget that." Relmus pressed a hand against the earth, feeling the cold seeping into his bones. He bowed his head, whispering under his breath: "I will not forget. I swear it. I will become more than a Baros, more powerful than the Zuli. I will bring Ogun's flame to the Zuli." The victory over the Zuli raiders felt hollow now, a thin veneer over a world splintering around him. The cost of survival was still being tallied, and Suffering had only begun to demand its price.
Relmus stood, his muscles aching and his heart still heavy with the weight of the battle and its aftermath. He had left the camp's somber silence behind, the echoes of the Zuli's destruction still ringing in his ears. His mind raced with memories of the confrontation, of the flames and the power he had summoned but barely understood. As he made his way back toward the heart of the camp, he was stopped by Kaya's voice, a voice steady, calm, yet filled with the gravity of a soul that saw horrible things. Yet, Relmus sees her as still a soft and comfortable presence. Though she was only barely older than him. She had been on hunting parties, not as a hunter but as a healer. Her family was full of healers. Her grandmother was lost to the Zuli raid as well. Relmus saw her name on the stones with his own grandfather. Kaya had not been like the other Baros, she, like Bobon, never called him small or weak, just, friend. She had just come of age to be wed, and to be made a camp healer. She had only recently become the camp healer assigned to Relmus' family. Tending to the sick and elderly and rare occasion wounded. Kaya hadn't chosen a husband. She refused to. Relmus liked to think she was waiting for him. He laughed at the thought, he remembered overhearing, just last year.
"You shall choose a husband Kaya, or you will end up like our leader's son. Alone for the rest of his life, no woman shall want to choose a small Baros like him. Who will he protect?" Kaya's mother had said. As strong as a Baros was, it was only custom, that the wife chose the husband and not the husband to wife. Yet, for Dhutorn and Emaev, they broke the arranged marriage tradition. To avoid issues with men seeking who they wanted, Dhutorn enforced that no man shall choose a wife, only the woman to the man. Avoiding the sicken mind of older men going after the younger Baros women as they grew up.
"Relmus," she called, her tone soft but commanding. "Come here." She broke his thoughts up. He turned to face her, her figure framed by the dim light of the morning sun. He had not noticed her like this before. Kaya's eyes were grey and orange as an evening sun. Dark hair blowing slow wind, her skin glowed against the rising sun. She had changed her old tunic to one of the healer robes, a bit more revealing than she had anticipated it being as she held it tight against her. The clothing detailing every inch of her. Relmus slightly grinned, though he was excited to have a quiet moment with her, it wasn't on the best of terms.
"You bear the weight of our people's survival on your shoulders now," Kaya said, her voice carrying the authority masked by fear. "What is your plan now? My grandmother died along with your grandfather and too many of our people."
"If only our people saw me as one of them." He had always been small, overlooked. Now they looked at him with something worse than pity: fear. "I have been two days without the shard around my neck. Bobon holds it. He was going to burn up as well. I had to.." Relmus said, his anger building again.
"No, I told them I placed it behind you. The only ones who know you did not wear the shard for those two days are myself and your mother." She said, trying to calm him. "I am not sure why you were lucky enough to not be cursed, but I would take it as a blessing from Ogun himself."
Relmus swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to his hands, the weight of her words settling in his chest like stones. He could feel the remnants of the power coursing through him, the aftertaste of the blue-black flames that had once surged so fiercely. "I would not call this a blessing. Maybe this is worse than the original curse. Maybe I am a fluke, waiting for Ogun to come laugh and take his prized fluke back. I do not blame the others, their fear is well placed. Why would someone like me be so blessed? I have been told my whole life that I was too weak to do anything. Maybe–,"
He continued to look into his hands, trying to concentrate enough. Maybe he could reawaken this power and it takes him completely this time.
"You're afraid," Kaya observed, stepping closer. "You're afraid of what you've become. Of the power that's within you, waiting for you to lose control. You are more than that, tell me one other Baros who mocked you, that stood against those Zuli."
Relmus met her eyes, his breath catching in his throat. "How do you know I am not a curse now?"
She embraced him, her arms tight around him, but gentle. "Because you always go out of your way to help Bobon, me even. You think of others before yourself. Not once did you care about your own safety, you willingly put down your own life for all of us, when the Zuli attacked. Ogun answered by lending you the fire to help you."
Relmus closed his eyes, hearing the words of his grandfather, Dargos, echoing through his thoughts: Ogun's fire burns in you, Relmus. Never let it consume you. Small tears began to fall from his face. For once, outside of his family, he didn't feel distanced. Like someone actually saw him, cared for him.
Kaya exhaled, releasing Relmus from her grip. "You're not alone in this. I will follow you through it all. Bobon will too, he just needs time to rest. You have to stand up for yourself. Fear kills everything, yet you embraced the Warming Death, and came out on top. Without the Ninji water."
Relmus nodded, a knot tightening in his throat. The fear, the guilt, the uncertainty all welled up within him. "How do I keep it from consuming me next time? Where do I go from here? My father might be dead. He is the only one strong enough to hold off the Zuli and find answers."
Kaya's eyes softened with understanding, and she gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Your father wasn't the one who stopped the Zuli and two Infernals that threatened to kill us all. You also don't control fire by locking it away. You must embrace this, the Axe Trial might help."
"Why would the Axe Trial help?" Relmus asked, puzzled.
"Everyone has their own path. The one thing you have been told your whole life by others. You are too weak. Completing the Axe Trial will make everyone understand that you are different." She said,
"Different? Like, because I will burn quicker due to my size?" Relmus said, smirking.
"Do you know the story of Ogun, the reason for us to leave Volflary?" Kaya asked, her eyes rolling as she looked over Relmus.
Relmus blinked, surprised by the question. "Because of the Infernals, right?" he answered, his tone uncertain, as if he were trying to recall a lesson he might have learned long ago.
Kaya's gaze didn't falter, and the silence that followed made him shift uncomfortably. "Is that all you know?" she asked, her voice sarcastic, and a hint of disappointment beneath the surface.
Relmus hesitated, his mind racing. He had always been told the story of the Infernals, the creatures that had risen, the battles they had fought, the destruction they had left in their wake. But Kaya's question made him realize that he only knew a fraction of it. "I… thought that was the reason we had to leave Volflary. The Infernals came, and we had to escape, didn't we?"
Kaya's lips curled into a faint smile, but there was no humor in it. "The Infernals were a symptom, not the cause, Relmus. Ogun was the cause. Ogun's fire, to be exact."
Relmus frowned, struggling to connect the dots. "Ogun's fire? I don't understand."
Kaya sighed, the wind had picked up a bit more as she held tight onto her robe again. She began to speak, her voice low and steady. "Ogun was a force of nature, a spirit of the land, once revered as a guardian. But over time, his fire grew wild. It was a power that couldn't be contained, and when we tried to harness it, we lost control. The fire consumed our people. It consumed everything. The Infernals, those twisted creatures, were born from that fire, birthed from the flames that tore through Volflary."
Relmus's mind raced as he pieced together the new details. "So our people decided to take the power for ourselves. Infernals were born from the ill use of the power?"
Kaya nodded slowly. "Yes. The Infernals were a manifestation of the land's rage. They were the physical form of the destruction caused by Ogun's fire being held by mortals. Ogun's response was to curse all the bloodlines who stole the power for themselves, but even Ogun's power was not strong enough to fight the Godfire Shard. Our people took what we could, pieces of the Godfire shard. We left and tried to escape the grip of Ogun's fire before it consumed all of us. Yet the curse followed. For the curse to end, the Baros would have to cease to exist."
Relmus felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had always known that the story of their departure from Volflary was shrouded in mystery, but hearing it from Kaya's lips made it more real than he had ever imagined. "Then… what does that mean about me? Am I not a Baros?"
Kaya looked at him intently, her eyes hardening with the weight of her words. "It means you must learn to control the fire within you, Relmus. You must understand its power before it takes you the way it took our ancestors. Warming Death bends to you, not you to it. If you don't, you may become a part of that history, and not in a way you want."
Relmus swallowed, the enormity of what she was saying sinking in. "I won't let that happen. I'll learn to control it."
Kaya looked at him with admiration, "You will do well. You are our destined leader. Even though you are a tiny Baros." They both laughed, but ended quickly. As they felt this wasn't the place to be cheerful right now.
A sense of understanding washed over Relmus. The fire inside him was a weapon he could use to help his people, but also a danger that could consume everything he held dear if he wasn't careful. Kaya's words had given him a glimpse of the weight he now carried, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was ready to shoulder it. At least she gave him probably the most confidence a person could give him. He had more questions, maybe he should have listened better to his grandfather in his history lessons, but the smell of the elder tent was too overwhelming for him to actually remember anything he said.
"So, the Warming Death, the shards–" Relmus started, but Kaya interrupted before he could finish.
"Our ancestors took the small shards from the Volcano of Volflary, the resting place of the Godfire shard. We are not sure who was the first to find it, but that person gave others the power of gods. At the time there was no curse, their power remained, and never was extinguished. The first Baros to wield the fire that came from the Godfire shard, rivaled the gods. Being the typical destructive mortals we are, we began to use the power to kill each other, and innocents too. Ogun was furious with their disobedience, so he cursed the use of the shards. The Warming Death is the curse that has followed our people ever since."
Kaya's eyes searched Relmus's, looking for some hint of recognition.
Relmus blinked, trying to wrap his mind around it. "So now the very thing we stole is the very thing we cannot live without? So the Baros are going back to Volflary to grab the shards to keep their families alive?"
Kaya sighed and pulled a small, jagged shard from around her neck. "Yes, we need the shard to survive. Infernals are directly created from the power of the shard. When slain, we have found the shards are within the obsidian bones we collect from Infernals. When the ironworkers melt the obsidian to forge a new axe, large fragments of the stone remain inside, pieces that won't melt. We collect them, break them down, and make the shards we wear. Breaking the shard in our hand activates the Warming Death, but simply having it stolen will cause you to burn from the inside out. I know you already know this.."
Relmus's mind worked quickly. "I see the Axe Trial, and why our people are scared now. Less and less return from the trial, so less shards to be passed down. With the increase in Zuli attacks, Baros who use the Warming Death, end up breaking the shard and not able to pass it on. "
He stood, pacing as the weight of the conversation sank in. "The only way out is death. Always has been from this curse. There has to be a way to break it. We need to keep our people from fighting with the Zuli. No more Axe Trials."
Kaya's gaze softened, but her voice remained firm. "You might be right, but for now we need the shards to live. Not only do they keep us from burning from the inside, we have found we can use them to control the fire on our axes. Without them, we lose the power to fight. It's a dangerous trade-off."
Relmus paused, thoughts brewed in his mind. "What makes me different? Why could I control the blue flames without a shard?"
Kaya's expression grew distant, as if contemplating a mystery long unanswered. "I'm not sure why Ogun spares his wrath from you or where the blue flame comes from. Some of the elders think the blue resembles Ogun's original flame, the hottest flame to ever exist in Volflary. The second hottest is the white flame tied to the Warming Death when invoked."
Relmus looked down at his arms, remembering the first time the fire had touched him. "I saw the white flames when I first began to feel the power stirring. But they disappeared, and the flames changed. They turned blue and black."
Kaya leaned closer, her fingers lightly brushing his arm as she traced the scarred skin that should have been there. "I've never heard of the black flame that follows your blue fire. That's outside of Baros' knowledge. It truly is amazing. My grandmother kept journals of her healing knowledge, and not one of them mentions fire healing."
Relmus's gaze dropped to his arms. Kaya was still tracing the edges of his arms. His heart leapt. Once more he was encapsulated by her beauty. He must have been staring too obviously, as she stopped abruptly.
"Sorry, I did not mean to touch you without warning." Kaya said, clutching her hands together.
"It's fine." Relmus said, trying to settle the loud thumping of his heart. "We should return to the camp. I need to visit Bobon."