Chapter 106: Flames

Chapter 5 - Flames

Aaron washed himself and came out from the cellar. His eyes stung, having awoken so early. It was his mother's day off. Every woman got one rest day each month. Aaron climbed the steps of the cellar and made his way to his mother's room on the second floor. She sat before a mirror while Carmin, a girl of sixteen and Mistress Delin's newest acquisition, brushed her hair.

Lera's straight lips curled as her door creaked open and Aaron shuffled inside. Her reflection was like that of a weeping willow, beautiful, but melancholic. Sunlight lit up her tan earthen hair, making it seem as if she had a head of gold.

“Are you taking Aaron with you?” Carmin asked, smiling at Lera's reflection in the mirror. Carmin had black, silky hair that allowed her otherwise plain face to glow. Her figure, though, was thin. No dress lent to her was a proper fit, each one entirely too baggy. She had yet to earn enough to purchase her own clothes. Carmin placed the brush in the dresser drawers before Lera and sat down at the edge of the four poster bed occupying one fifth of the room. Translucent curtains of red hung around the bed. Carmin held out her arms, motioning for Aaron to follow. He obliged, curling up as she wrapper her arms around him in a warm embrace.

“Yes. Aaron's coming along,” Lera answered.

“He has your eyes. And an oh so adorable face. What was his fath— I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask that… You probably don't remember him.”

“I don't mind. I wish I didn't remember him. He was terribly handsome. And equally terrible.”

“More handsome than Orion?” Carmin asked.

Aaron curled his fists at the mention of the man. His mother stared off out the window, her head moving up and down in a subdued nod, the smile on her lips now glowing rather than despairing. Aaron nestled deeper in Carmin's clutches, trying to make his real mother jealous of his 'third mother', jealous himself of feeling less and less loved by Lera by the day. Carmin blew into his ear. It tickled, making him squirm and look down. “Why are your wrists red?” Aaron asked, noticing the violent color against her pale and near bloodless skin. Lera glanced at Carmin's hands also at the mention.

“Oh, this? Its nothing,” Carmin quickly said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just a rowdy customer last night.”

“Rowdy?” Lera asked, brow raised. “Weren't you with a boy your age? The one with that guilty look as if he were spending his life savings on a single night. He seemed rather sweet. I was certain it was his first time.”

“I was with him. He fled before the sun even set… Said he loved me and then just ran, cheeks red. Same as the one after him.”

“After him?” Both of Lera's eyebrows were raised. “Carmin, how many customers did you serve last night?” Lera questioned, stealing a glance at Aaron who was occupied with Carmin's wrists, gently rubbing them with his thumb.

“Four in total. The last one was the rowdy one. Had a fat purse so I thought, you know? Gripped my wrists and had me pinned the whole time and, well you know how it gets. Still hurts a little.”

Lera's surprised look changed to one of shock. “Did you wash after each one?” Carmin slowly shook her head. “Are you insane!?”

Aaron jumped. He stepped away from his third mother as his real mother rose to her feet.

“Do you want to contract a disease? Are you trying to live a miserable life? Didn't Delin tell you anything when she brought you in?”

“I just thought—”

“Thought what? That you'd curry her favor? Delin only cares about the money we earn. Not us ourselves!”

“I just wanted to make a little more!” Carmin shouted back. “I don't even have my own dress yet. Some of the others talk behind my back. Say I won't last. I wanted to prove them wrong.”

“You'll prove them right at this rate. Delin hardly pays us a copper whole every night. The amount of customers you take in doesn't change that. She deducts our food and staying costs from that, leaving us with a mere copper half every three days.”

“That's easy enough for you to say! Orion showers you with gifts. I don't have someone like that!”

Aaron fidgeted. He wanted to speak, but the right words were lost on him. Lera's fiery glare turned to him. An amber blaze seemed to dance in her tan eyes. “Aaron, go stand by the door with your back turned. Close your eyes. And ears for that matter.”

He scratched his head. “Why would I close my eyes if I'm turned?”

“Just do it! Must you question everything?”

Aaron pouted. He walked to the door and covered his eyes with his hands, leaving his ears open.

“Raise your blouse, Carmin,” Lera ordered.

“What? Why?”

“The man that left last, yesternight. The one with a fogged eye and scars at his lips. Was that your last customer?”

“Yes…”

“Flames, Carmin. He left long after Orion even. How long did you let him have his way? Raise your blouse. Let me have a look.” Lera clicked her tongue a short while after. “You look alright. There wasn't any blood, was there?”

“No,” Carmin said, voice croaking. “He was a bit small for what his appearance suggested. It's just my wrists that hurt. I don't want to be laughed at, Lera. That's how it's always been. Frail little Carmin. I was sold by my own aunt after my pa passed. Only Mely and Isabelle are kind to me here. And you. Temelia gives me her food sometimes. I think she starves herself for me. I have nothing. No one…” she sniffled.

Aaron turned around, recognizing the sound of crying. Lera was sitting beside Carmin, holding the shorter girl's head. Aaron rushed over, sitting on Carmin's opposite side. She gave a gentle smile as a tear fell on his hand. He wiped her cheeks. “You have me!” he said, trying to cheer her up.

“Lera? Can I come with you and Aaron outside?”

“No,” she answered. Aaron's head snapped towards his mother, surprised that she would give such a quick answer.

“But—”

“No. I'm sorry, Carmin. I have… reasons.”

The black haired girl stood up, pushing both others aside. “Of course you do. I'm not good enough. I'm just ugly, aren't I? Don't want to be seen outside with me. I get it. I'm not at your level!”

“That isn't—” Lera began but Carmin stormed out the door and slammed it shut. Aaron's mother sighed. “That girl is as frail inside as she is out. Let's go, Aaron. We have a few places to visit.” Lera threw a half cloak over her shoulders and tied it at the base of her throat, allowing it to cover the excessive cleavage her violet dress revealed.

“Wait. I'll go get her. She'll listen to me.”

“No!” Lera insisted, fire in her eyes once more.

Aaron didn't argue. He knew he couldn't. His mother was forceful. But she never did anything to intentionally hurt him. It was her day off. Perhaps she just wanted to spend the day with him alone.

He still fidgeted as they stepped out to the busy streets of Seldar. He looked up at the signboard above the mahogany doors. Celestial Whispers . One of dozens of brothels in the city. Lera took his hand and moved him along. “Carmin really wanted to come along. It's her day off too.”

“I know,” his mother answered. “We're going someplace secret. Don't mention it to anyone.” She squeezed his hand with her own as if making sure he wouldn't be swept away amidst the sea of people. Seldar was one of few Tarmian cities supported by vast underground water reserves. Its various fountains made it an attraction to people from many different regions.

Lera kept looking down at Aaron every few seconds as if making sure he was still there. “Ma, I'm not going anywhere…” he assured her, his eyes drifting to a group of boys his age running circles around another child in some strange game they were playing. Lera loosened her grip at his words. Aaron felt her hand slip away and panicked, leaping and clutching his mother's arm tight. She frowned at him and pulled him in closer, shaking her head.

“I know you won't go anywhere. I won't let you,” she smiled. “My dashing prince, Aarondel.” She looked behind him and then all around, biting her bottom lip. She was looking for anyone that could be following, he realized.

“I don't think Carmin will follow us.”

“It's not Carmin I'm worried about.” Lera led him through many meandering passages, pausing to window shop at times, savouring her free time with him. Times like this made Aaron happy. A time when his mother was his own and no one else's. When her smile and affection was shared with none but him.

Even if it was pretentious, to an extent.

Lera was putting up an act. Aaron had been around the women of the house for too long to not identify falsehoods from truths. She wasn't enjoying her time with him as he was with her. She wanted to. Her eyes spoke clearly. Eyes were the one feature that could never lie. But she feared for something. For hunters which she claimed still chased her. Chased the Zz'tai bloodline. Lera was pretending to be a normal person, afraid that she and her son may be found.

A burly man bumped into her as her head was turned. She in turn bumped into Aaron and he fell. Lera lowered her head. “I'm sorry,” she said quickly. The man clicked his tongue and moved on without a word. Aaron rose, angry. He opened his mouth just as a hand clamped down on it. “No, Aaron. Not now. Not yet. Not until you're an adult. We must lay low if we wish to survive.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” his mother said, kneeling beside him, dirtying her smooth violet dress. “I said I won't let you go anywhere. Let me protect you. Please?”

He nodded, turning his head away. His heart raced. He saw a pebble on the cobblestones. The iron pendant touching his breast grew warm. Lera stood and pulled him away before he could pick it up and throw it. Eyes now averted, the pendant quickly cooled.

As time passed, the day's heat began to grow. More and more people gathered by the fountains of the main streets. Lera always followed the flow of people, blending in. She slowly but surely made her way to the city walls, a low height of stone bricks little higher than two storeys. Lera fell in line with a group of traveling performers, her violet dress matching their violet caravan and wagons. She pulled up the hood of the half-cloak around her shoulders, covering enough to hide her hair but not her face. The troupe left the city, unquestioned by its guards. They weren't questioning anyone for that matter. But Lera remained careful regardless. She stopped glancing about to avoid looking suspicious.

Once away from the city, Aaron's mother slowed, letting the caravan gain a sizeable lead along the dirt road. She pulled her hood down and looked around, squinting beneath the bright sun. Her sweat covered face dazzled. She took out a handkerchief and pressed it upon her face. The casual experience with which she patted her cheeks and tilted her head upward made her seem every bit the regal lady she truly was. Passing travelers glanced in her direction, eyes wide in awe. Their gaze lowered to her chest as her lifted hand revealed what was beneath the cloak. They averted their eyes when noticing the urchin in ragged clothes standing at her side, realizing her for what she held as an occupation.

Aaron glowered at each and every one of them, hating himself for being the cause of their ire. His mother was beautiful and deserved to be revered as such. She was a queen lacking in a commoner's respect. “Why don't you say anything? Look at the way they're looking at you. All because of me too. Can I not get some nice clothes, ma?”

“Ignore them, Aaron. People hold prejudices. They always have and always will. You cannot change that. What you can do —once you're king— is improve the people's conditions so that these prejudices fade out on their own. I do not care that they look at me so. Neither should you. What matters is what we truly are.” Lera let out an exhausted sigh. “I was going to buy you some clothes today. I thought that perhaps I should purchase a fitting dress for Carmin instead. One that she can call her own. Do you think she'll like that, Aaron?”

He nodded eagerly. “She'll love it! I'm sure she would!”

“And what about you?”

“Me? What about me?”

“I only have so much money, my prince. If I buy Carmin a dress, I cannot buy you new clothes.”

“That's alright. She needs it more than me. I'll smile when my mothers smile.”

“Mothers?”

“Yes! Like you. Mely is my second mother. Carmin my third, Isabelle my fourth, and Temelia my fifth.”

Lera frowned. “I suppose that works. But don't forget what you said just now. She needs it more than you. The righteous king is always last to eat at his own table, Aaron.” She rested her hand on his shoulders and looked around. The road had cleared of people. “Quickly. Follow me while no eyes are watching,” she said, stepping away from the road. She ducked into the tall yellowing grass, bending her knees and keeping low. Aaron tailed her, mimicking her movements though his height hardly passed her waist. His mother quickened her pace, standing upright and jogging now that they were a fair ways away from both the city and the road. He tried his best to keep up. He found his legs and chest burning.

Lera had much greater stamina. She was already a few dozen paces ahead. Her figure grew smaller. He reached out with his hand to call her. Tears welled in his eyes. Only coughs escaped as soon as his mouth opened. Aaron was frightened of being forgotten. Lera paused and glanced back. Her smile withered and she rushed back to where he was. Her breathing hardly seemed labored, though the dazzle of her skin had returned as sweat gathered once more.

Lera knelt down and wiped Aaron's tears. “I won't leave you. You know that. Climb on to my back. Ma will carry you.”

Aaron did as he was told, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck. She sprinted forth, holding on to his legs, barely slowing in speed. Aaron laughed, feeling the wind brush through his straight black hair, carrying with it the slight scent of flowery soap that came from Lera's skin. She finally paused before a broken wall of stone covered in vines and moss. Beyond it lay the remains of many buildings.

Aaron jumped down and gasped at the sight. “Where is this?”

“Seldar, as it once was,” Lera answered. “A few miles northeast from the Seldar of today. The water reserves beneath the city mysteriously dried up one day, causing the people to abandon it and seek better land —which they found not too far from here. The Red Desert is a little north of here. Stick close to me, Aaron. The Desert is home to giant serpents. Hunters once braved them for fortune. Their scales, fangs and poison had many uses in medicine, fashion and weaponry. Though, in raw form, their poison is one of the deadliest known to man with no known antidote. Something said to render a person unconscious and kill them in ten years' time. The serpents seldom leave the sands, but they have been known to do so.”

Aaron shuddered. He pinched the edge of Lera's dress as she entered the city. He hated snakes. He'd seen small ones slithering through dark alleys before. “Why are we here, ma? How is this place secret if it was a city before?”

“Hush, my prince,” Lera whispered. “The Desert serpents are blind. They hunt by sound. Tread lightly. Where we are isn't the secret. It's why we're here that matters. There is a Shrine of Flames here. Every Zz'tai must visit a shrine at least once in their life when they've passed the age of twenty-one. You inherit a Flame of your own then, given to you by the Creator.”

“Don't you already have a Flame, ma?”

“Yes. Today is about you. Your first visit to a Shrine so that you know what it looks like. What it feels like to be in one, in the presence of an Eternal Flame. Of course, we will offer prayers to the Creator as well.”

Aaron nodded. He followed his mother through the ruined streets. She treaded on patches of grass and moss rather than on the cracked and gravel covered cobblestones. Lera paused occasionally, as if making sure the subtle sounds she heard was just the wind moving pebbles rather than a scaled monstrosity slithering through the streets. She eventually came to a stop before a mass of broken pillars laying before the steps of a worn down building. Half the roof of the structure was missing. Sunlight pierced through, illuminating its insides, a flickering orange light like a candle flame hiding deep within.

Aaron followed his mother inside, immediately overwhelmed by the serene warmth of the Shrine's broken halls. It was warm beneath the sun also. But this was different. The warmth here embraced him, wrapped itself around him, and loved him as if Lera herself were holding him. “Ma…” the boy whispered. She smiled down at his awed expression. Aaron couldn't take his eyes off the Flame dancing upon an altar at the far end of the hall.

“Go on,” Lera nudged. “Rekindle it. Put your hand over it and it will roar to life.

Aaron nodded, moving forward, completely mesmerized. Sharp stones beneath his feet poked through his worn boots. The pain hardly registered. Everything was insignificant before the Creator's Light.

Aaron climbed the steps of the altar, breathing through his mouth. A brilliant pillar of orange stood before him. He reached over the altar which stood near as high as he was. Common sense told him not to touch the fire. But as his hand inched closer, not an ounce of threatening heat could be felt. His palm reached the square altar's center. The Flames were cool to the touch. At that moment, all of Aaron's worries washed away. He felt as if a tidal wave of crystalline water had passed through him. His ragged grey shirt became white. His entire body was cleansed.

Aaron pulled away and looked over himself. His skin seemed to glow. Renewed excitement and energy filled him to the brim. His heart raced. He turned around to see his mother at the base of the steps before the altar. She was crying, one hand over her mouth. “Ma?”

“The Flame. It's already glowing bright. Someone else rekindled it of late…”

“Someone else?”

“Don't worry about it. I was just thinking of the past. Close your eyes, Aaron. Pray to the Creator for all that is good. By the Will of Fire , your wishes will come true.”

Anything I wish for? The boy watched as his mother clasped her hands and shut her eyes. He did the same, unsure of what it was he truly wanted. To be free? To eat cake for every meal? To wear nice clothes? To be rich? To save his mothers? To beat up Mistress Delin and Orion? There were too many things. He wished for them all. Then he opened his eyes.

Lera was still praying. The light of the Eternal Flame reflected off of her glowing skin. They danced upon the broken walls and extended every shadow's length. Lera looked to be in a state of tranquility. A true smile on her lips, her chest rising and falling in measured paces, her slender figure radiating regalia and piety. “I wish for mother's happiness,” Aaron blurted, blushing as he said it. His mother's lips curled further, as if an invisible bowstring were drawing it back. Her raised cheeks flushed. She ended her prayer and gave Aaron a kiss on his forehead.

“My prince,” Lera breathed. “Let's head back before the markets close. We still have Carmin's dress to buy.” Lera grabbed hold of his hand and led him out, being just as silent when leaving the ruins of old Seldar as when they'd arrived. The sun had changed sides, now sitting to the west. The days of the harvest season still had a few cycles left. Daylight would persist for a little while more. “Aaron,” Lera said as they walked through the open plains. Farmsteads could be seen if one squinted at the horizon. “Recite the Laws of the Eternal Flame.”

He swallowed, scouring his memory for them, worried Lera would be upset if he'd forgotten. “Fire breathes… Fire guides, Fire shelters… and Fire protects?”

“Mhm. And the last one?”

Aaron bit his lip. He never forgot the last one. But it also never made sense. “Fire ruins.”

“And you remember what all of them mean, yes?”

He nodded again, finding it all coming back now.

“Aaron, if ever you find your heart wavering, always remember the Laws of the Eternal Flame. And the Will of Fire itself. Do not count on your mother's words. I am but a human. I can make mistakes. But the Laws were handed down to us Flame Bearers from the Creator. Don't let our ancestor's memories misguide your path. At times, they may make you feel angry. May make you feel hatred even. After all, memories with the strongest emotion attached tend to be passed down. But that isn't to make you lose your way. If all you are is angry and thirsty for vengeance, the dark path of a tyrant will await you. The memories will be there to drive you forward. Your kindness will lead you down the correct path. And your morals as a Flame Bearer will hold you to it.”

Aaron nodded a third time, though hardly paying attention now. The image of Lera praying before the altar was transfixed in his mind. Her curled lips and the soft kiss she'd pressed on his head. He felt his face grow hot. She's mine. Not Delin's. Not Orion's. Mine.

“Hah,” Lera sighed. “I'm just rambling. We should run. The house will start taking customers soon. Get on my back.”

Burning light covered the skies by the time Lera reached the roads. No longer were they cluttered as they would be at noon. Everyone had already gone about their business for the day. Despite knowing his final destination was the destitute cellar of a brothel, Aaron couldn't help but be happy. Lera hummed a tune he recognized. Something she used to whisper in his ears when he had trouble falling asleep. This was before she got her own room and Aaron was assigned the cellar. The lyrics were lost on him. It had been well over a year since she'd last sung it to him. Perhaps multiple.

The two passed through Seldar's gates, Lera drawing up her hood again. Aaron was suddenly dragged to one side. He stumbled, trying not to fall, steadying himself against a thick leg. A heavy hand pushed him away and he fell to his rear. Someone was holding on to Lera's arm. “Thought Oi recognized ya,” the man said. He was wearing a full mail shirt beneath a maroon coat. Guardsman livery. His accent was hardly Tarmian and more reminiscent of backwater peddlers from Xenaria. “Yer that one from Skeletal Whiskers or somethin. Strange name fer a whorehouse if ya ask me. Where's yer papers at?”

“Documents? What documents? There's never been such requirements before. Unhand me this instant!” Lera demanded.

“Er what? Ya gon call the city guards? That’s us, pretty missy. And Oim the boss fer tonight's watch. What Oi say, goes.”

Aaron got to his feet. He kicked the man's shin, striking a plated part and hurting his own toes. He cringed, trying to make his pained expression look a fearsome one. “Let go of my ma!”

The man twisted Lera's arm and jerked her to one side before delivering a knee to Aaron's gut. “Looky ere. Missy's got a brat. Yet yer still employed. And the most expensive one at that. Ain't none of the lads ever touched ya. But we all talk of it. Tell ya what. Join me an my lads in the guardhouse fer a bit an Oil overlook yer missing papers.”

“I said unhand me, you brute! There are no papers to provide. You already know I'm a citizen of this city.” Lera looked around furiously for any kind of aid. Aaron saw no one in sight. There were no citizens anywhere near the city's gates. The other guards had their lips spread wide in crooked grins, their eyes undressing his mother as tongues licked their lips. The brutish guard drew his face closer to his mother's. She tried pulling away, crinkling her nose.

“Come quietly, or Oil stomp out yer brat's teeth, ya hear?”

Aaron swallowed, taking a half step back, fear keeping him paralyzed. The iron pendant began heating up again.

Lera glanced at Aaron. She resigned. Her glowing features vanished. Her loving smile, set before the sun itself. The melody in her voice carried away by thieving winds. “Aaron, stay here by the gates. I'll come fetch you.”

No! Aaron wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt the man holding her captive. He opened his mouth but only croaks came out. Tears welled and a stone settled in his throat. Lera covertly pushed her purse into his hands, obviously afraid that it would be taken. Aaron mumbled incoherently as he stuffed the purse in his trouser pockets without being seen. The guard captain flashed a wicked, and yellow teethed grin as he dragged Lera.

“Sun's setting brat. Dangerous, these streets at night. Bring the boy in. He can watch. It'll be a lesson fer ya. We'll show ya how gentlemen treat right proper ladies like yer mother.”

“Flames no!” Lera cried. She was backhanded across the face with a gloved hand with metal bits at the knuckles. The edge of her lips cracked. The captain dragged her into the guardhouse while his men pushed Aaron through the doors after them. The room within was lit by cheap orange luminite fragments sitting at the edge of windowsills. The brutish captain pushed Lera face first on to a table bearing mugs of ale, spilling the drinks and damaging her beautiful face. He laughed as his hands tugged violently at her clothes. “Aaron, avert your eyes,” Lera cried. “Close them, for all that is in the heavens. Don't watch.”

Aaron trembled as he stood in a corner. He had no sight of his mother to begin with. She was surrounded by guards all waiting their turn. He squeezed his eyes shut regardless, the sounds of feral laughter echoing through his ears and disrupting the rhythm of his beating heart. Lera's whimpers turned to pretentious moans as she did her best to please her abusers and avoid a thrashing. Their laughter doubled. Slandering and demeaning words followed. Words unbefitting the queen that Lera was. Aaron sank to his knees, struggling to breathe. His heart drummed furiously. He feared that it would come to a sudden stop. His chest burned. The pendant around his neck grew hot. Strange memories flashed within his mind. Memories of burning buildings. Of hot steel and flowing blood. Of pleading cries and roars of fury.

Fire Ruins…

Aaron! Someone called out to him. His own name echoed throughout the dark chambers of his mind. Aaron! Aaron? He opened his eyes. A red eyed Lera stared back at him. The tattered remains of her violet dress and cloak lay by the table at which the dark haired guard captain sat drinking. “Ma?” She was wrapped in a smelly and grey soldier's cloak.

“It's over. Let's go home.”

Aaron said nothing, keeping a wary eye on the drinking man, whose gaze was fixated upon his mother's rear.

“Treat that cloak noicely, ya hear?” the man said. “Somethin to remember this night by. Oi ain't no brute. Can't have a proper lady walking around naked,” he laughed. Others near him howled as they buckled their trouser belts.

Lera uttered false words of thanks, shrouding herself with the cloak. A thin line of blood flowed from the edge of her mouth. One side of her face was red from where her head had been pinned against the table. Tears lay imprisoned at the corners of her eyes. She grabbed hold of Aaron's hand and led him out.

“Why?” Aaron asked crying himself. The sun had already set, remnants of its glory fading out of the horizon. “I wished for your happiness. Why?”

“I am happy, my prince,” she croaked. “You aren't hurt. That's all that matters.”

He didn't respond back. He sniffled as she led him through the emptying streets. The pendant had cooled again but his chest still stung.

Lera stopped at a dress shop she'd paused before earlier in the day, telling him to wait outside. Dazed, Aaron strayed away and sat at the edge of a fountain a short distance from the shop. Shadows swirled in the crystalline water. Night had suffocated its beauty, leaving but the sound of running water. Aaron frowned, suddenly despising the fountain. Why did anyone like them at all? They spewed water in a torrent as if the stone were caught in a perpetual state of despair, always crying.

Water struck his face. Aaron glowered at the direction from where it came. A girl his age giggled and splashed more water at him. She had a flowery smile and wore an azure dress. Aaron's anger faded and his face neutralized. He splashed water back at her. She squealed. Unexpectedly. She splashed him again. And again. And then again. Aaron pretended to be bothered to humor her further, covering his face with his arms.

Pretended.

I'm getting good at acting too… The water splashes stopped. Someone whispered. Aaron looked up, staring at the hateful eyes of a plump older woman —the girl's mother by the looks. Her eyes went over his tattered clothing and her expression changed to one of disgust. She dragged the girl away and Aaron was left alone. They're just prejudiced he tried convincing himself. An ache settled in his chest. Fountain water upon his face mingled with salt water. He walked back to the shop.

Lera was practically pushed out the door, the shopkeeper's wife spouting slurs. Aaron could make out most of it. Something about shopping at night without clothes and trying to seduce the dressmaker instead of paying outright. Aaron opened his mouth to argue but the door was slammed shut. Lera smiled down at him. “Still bought a dress,” she winked. “I think it will fit Carmin right well. One more stop.”

The two of them silently walked as the dark of night grew thick in the twisting reaches of Seldar's round roofed houses. Lera stopped by a bakery. A sweet aroma surrounded the small stone hut like shop. It didn't have a single window at the front and the sign above the door was too hard to make out at this time of day. Lera tried the door, frowning when realizing it was locked. Her imprisoned tears finally flowed then. “I'm sorry Aaron. I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I can't even buy you cake for your ninth birthday.”

It's my birthday? He wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to comfort her but crying instead. “I'm alright ma,” he lied. “I'm not hurting.”

“I know. My sweet prince is strong. Strong and kind. Tomorrow is Temelia's day off. Go buy a cake with her. She's been giving too much of her food to Carmin of late. You can share with her.”

Aaron only cried more, pressing his face into the vile smelling cloak wrapped around his mother. He didn’t want to show her his despairing face. Even after everything, she was still thinking of others. A king is the last to eat at his table . The same logic would apply to a queen. Lera had the true glowing heart of a queen.

Laws of the Eternal Flame

Fire Breathes Before It Dies : Live your life to its end. Don't stop breathing before your time's run out. Live while you still draw breath. Fight while you still can stand.

Fire Guides Those In Shadow : Do not hesitate to aid another in a lesser condition than you. Do not hesitate to light their path. Do not hesitate to be the spark that allows their fire to breathe yet.

Fire Shelters Those In Need : Be the warmth for another on a cold night. Be the warmth that provides and heats food. Be the warmth that provides a place to call home.

Fire Protects Those In Weakness : Be the flame that banishes the dark. Be the flame that burns them. Be the flame that turns them to ashes and returns their names to the ground that bore them.

And when all's lost…

Fire Ruins Those Who Ruin : When all is lost, remember what fire was, what it is, and what it always will be. Fire is the originator. When all is lost, when hope is dead, when the Creator's might no soul now dreads, become the embodiment of Fire. Become the Originator. Burn it all and reset the world to its origins.

So that new Fire can breathe yet …

Such is the Will of Fire