The Flame of Destiny

After they closed the hatch, it took a while for the smoke to fade but then they recognized their surroundings. “We’re in the main hall of the temple,” said Spark, “but there’s nobody.”

Samira crawled behind the large black stone altar. She had been toiling underground for a whole day and night, and after this exertion, the tiredness fell over her. “I have to rest now,” she said, and her eyes closed.

A few minutes later she opened her eyes again to the sight of Spark who was whizzing around in the large deserted hall. “I’m not afraid of you,” she shouted at the giant statue of the horned demon and shook her little fist up and down. Then she went to the next statue. “You stupid pimple face, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Spark, what are you doing?”

“They don’t scare me.”

“These are just dumb statues,” Samira laughed. “This doesn’t help us. We should find Fingo before that mean guard comes back.”

At the foot of the demonic sculpture lay dozens of copper and rusty iron coins. Spark’s attention, however, was drawn to something shiny.

“Spark, come to the cells,” Samira shouted, “we don’t have time for silly games now.”

“Hah, we steal from them,” said Spark, who came rushing back, fluttering unsteadily with the heavy load. She dropped a single shiny silver coin into Samira’s hand, “that’ll teach them not to mess with a Peri.”

A few minutes later they found the cells at last. They were mostly empty and it didn’t take long to find Fingo. He was in worse shape than she had hoped. The poor Gnome lay battered and bruised on the rocky floor and didn’t even see them enter. He stirred and groaned when Samira gently touched him.

“Fingo, my dear friend, what have they done to you?” she cried.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the girl. His lips curled, forming a faint smile. Despite all the bruises and cuts, she could still see the spark in his eyes. “My dear, dear child,” he muttered, “it warms my heart to see you alive.” He grimaced and a look of pain flashed over his face.

“Fingo,” shouted Samira supporting his head.

He spoke with a slow rasping voice, “don’t worry about me, darling, my time has come. My legs are broken and all my body hurts. But you, you need to get out of here. Leave this place, both of you. You don’t belong in the Underdeep, your destiny lies elsewhere. Go now beyond the Sea of Flames. Ask the boatman to take you to Fingard ... my family lives there. They can help you.”

“You come with us,” sobbed Samira. “We’ll take you back to your family. You can rest and get better.”

Heavy footsteps could be heard in the distance. They echoed through the wide corridors.

So soon, thought Samira, I wish I had more time with him.

“My dear child, I’m spent. I can’t travel and you can’t carry me. You have to let me go. You’ve already done more for me than you can imagine.”

“No,” cried Samira and bitter tears rolled over her cheeks as she kissed him goodbye.

“Go now, the fire will protect you.”

They looked up as they heard footsteps and a heavy cough from down the hall.

“There’s one last thing you can do,” said Fingo suddenly sounding stern and confident. His eyes gleamed like the embers of his forge. “Hand me that crossbow,” he growled gesturing at the guard room.

With trembling hands, Samira fetched the deadly weapon. It was already loaded and ready for use.

“Get out now,” hissed the Gnome, “I’ll delay him so you can escape.”

“Hurry,” said Spark and dove into the corridor behind the prison cells, “the main entrance will be unguarded now but we have very little time before the other soldiers return.”

Samira took a last look at the old Gnome then rushed after Spark.

The guard will be at Fingo’s cell soon, thought Samira, he’ll notice the open cell door. The thought drove her crazy but she kept running onwards.

As they cleared another tunnel, they heard a loud muffled roar in the distance, like a wounded animal. Then they heard vicious cursing and after that, silence.

Samira trembled, shaken by the hatred and ferocity in the voice. “Poor, brave Fingo, he had just one shot,” she whispered. “May his soul find peace.”

“Those horrible people,” wailed Spark.

“At least we said goodbye,” said Samira as tears ran down her cheeks. “He knows that he was loved.”

Her best friend had gone. She wanted to sit down and mourn for him but even that respite was not granted to her. The guard was already heading their way. She dried her tears and got ready to go on. “Come on Spark, let’s go, don’t waste his sacrifice.”

They ran through long corridors back to the great temple hall. It was eerily empty and the sound of their clattering feet echoed loudly. Samira had the uneasy feeling that the demon statues were watching them as they sped past.

At last, they emerged out of the temple, into the dark city. The temple guards were looking in the outer caves and slums and the uninformed city guards paid no heed to the little slave girl in the tattered dress that sneaked by.

“Let’s go to the Sea of Fire,” said Spark, “wherever that may be.”

Samira hesitated. “No,” she said, “there’s one more thing that I’ve got to do.”

The faery rolled her eyes. “What now?”

Samira gazed at her little brother. From a distance, they looked alike. Both dressed in black, a little too tall and scrawny for their young age and very pale from weeks without sunlight. But his eyes were dull, as if all hope and pleasure had gone. Eyes without a soul, she thought and she felt angry, so this is what the guard had meant with ‘taming.’ But he’s my brother, he cannot be tamed like some animal. Behind these dull eyes, my playful brother must still be hiding somewhere.

“Psssst. Jaro, little brother. I know a way to get back to the surface,” she whispered from the shadows. “Come on, let’s get mom and dad and run away together.”

Jaro didn’t reply. The side of his mouth twitched.

“Jaro, what’s wrong?”

It looked like he wanted to say something but his lips didn’t move and he made no sound.

“Jaro, please,” begged Samira, “come on little brother. We don’t have time to lose. Come with me.”

A single tear ran from Jaro’s soulless eyes. His lips moved almost imperceptibly and he formed words without making a sound. “Run,” he mouthed silently.

A chill went through her body. Were they really lost?

“Who’s there?” called a voice from the little hut. She recognized it as her father’s but the tone was off and his voice distorted. A deep fear crawled up from her stomach and drained away her last hope.

Slowly Jaro turned to reply.

Samira stared at him, confused, “Jaro, please…”

“She’s here,” called Jaro in a slow, monotonous voice.

The door of the little hut flew open. Armed men rushed out, led by Georgios himself brandishing a heavy blade. A black warrior emerged from behind the house, leading a huge three-headed black hound on a leash.

Georgios rudely grabbed his son. “Where is she!” he shouted.

“She was here just a moment ago,” stammered Jaro.

The warrior behind her father cursed, then shouted commands to the others, “she can’t have gone far. Spread out and search for her. Now!”

Georgios turned back to face his son and slapped the boy hard across his face. “How stupid of you. If we don’t catch her, she’ll ruin our future here forever.”

The black warrior knelt down and unleashed the great three headed hound. It growled and barked, baring its long sharp fangs. Then it charged forward at a blistering speed.

“Damn it son,” hissed Georgios, “that was our last chance of capturing her alive.”

[Picture Samira Hound]

“Faster,” hissed Samira, “I can hear them right behind.”

Spark darted ahead in the tunnel, Samira followed right behind crawling fast on all fours. The faint light that Spark radiated was just enough for her to not constantly bump against the rack wall.

“I can’t go any quicker,” panted Spark.

They heard a faint angry howl behind. “W...what was that?” said Spark with a squeaky trembling voice.

Samira swallowed, “a monstrous hound. Run for your life!”

Diokles had once told her a story about a three headed dog that guarded the underworld. Only Heracles, son of Zeus, managed to defeat the beast. What chance did they have?

They ran as fast as they could but could hear the hound come closer. Every time she looked back, she expected to see its monstrous maw. At each turn, she felt like his breath was coming down her neck.

Words of Diokles ran through her mind, animals are scared of fire, we like it. That’s what makes us human.

“We have to get to the fire,” shouted Samira, “we have to go down to the lava. It’s our only chance.”

She dove into a corridor that sloped down steeply. Falling, tumbling and crawling she advanced. All the while the barks and snorts of the dog came closer.

The descent seemed to take forever. It’s getting hotter, thought Samira after a while, and still he’s chasing us.

“Watch out, behind you,” shouted Spark.

Samira turned and in the near-darkness of the tunnel, only saw its six evil eyes that burnt like red flames.

A little ahead and further down was a gaping black hole in the rocks with sulfuric dark smoke belching out. She sprinted forward, leaping down from rock to rock until she stood before the opening. Peering inside, all she could make out through teary, smoke-filled eyes was a steep vertical drop. The smell was unbearably vile and she coughed violently.

Spark shook her tiny head. “No way,” she said, “we don’t go there.”

The hound slowed and approached deliberately, preparing to strike. It was only a few paces away and Samira could see its massive canines, dripping with foam.

“Get into my pocket Spark, quick, we have no choice.”

The hound’s muscles grew tight as it readied itself. She saw its six evil eyes flash with the gaze of a predator about to attack.

There was no more time. She jumped into the blackness.

As she jumped, she heard a ferocious roar when the beast stormed towards her. Three massive mauls slammed shut into the air. Sharp claws raked over the hard rocks just above her.

Samira fell down into darkness.