The Fire That Lives-The Fire That Kills

He was a legend, a God, a Monster, a Demon, and some believed a myth...but before he was anything else...he was a boy...a boy whose death the world had gathered to witness!

The Boy

A chill ran through the boy as the cheers of the crowd drifted through the thick walls of the cold room; that meant the last man was done with.

The cheers continued, growing louder, but he wished they would never end, at least then he could sit here, in dark safety, for even the dank, damp walls seemed a gift compared to the beast that waited out there.

No! He told himself, he could not afford to let fear affect reasoning, not now, for it would cripple him as much as the chains linking his hands to the wall did. He had to be strong...he had to, if he wanted to survive.

He shook his head, but jumped as a bloodcurdling roar rose outside, cutting the crowd off, his breath caught in his throat and he covered his ears in shock, it felt like a thousand rocks crashing down a mountain, and he could feel a tremor running through the walls, even the bellowing roar of the crowd seemed like a whisper compared to this.

His throat closed painfully as hope seeped out, strong or not what chance did he have against that?

No! He cried out aloud, this was exactly what they wanted, to break him down even before he entered the Nest, wasn't that the reason the Prisoner's Pen was kept closest to it, so they could hear the screams of those who went in before them? And if he gave in to that, if he gave in to the terror, he knew he would lose the only weapon he ever had for survival, his will.

The roar ended in a spine chilling growl, and there was a pause for a few seconds, then the cheering began, again.

Maybe the beast wouldn't notice him right away, he whispered feebly, and he could crawl under a rock and maybe it would rain, maybe that would put out the fires, but even he knew how pathetic it was, dragons always noticed and nothing could put out Dragon fire!

The door opened with a rusty clang, letting in a slab of bright light. Shielding his eyes from the sudden glare he squinted at the two tall figures silhouetted against it, a waft of warm air drifted in, brushing back the dusty locks of his deep red hair, and raising the thick dust from the floor to make it dance like specks of gold … 'a taste of the world outside'he thought bleakly, he would have welcomed it a few days ago, but right now it was lost on him, for they were the guards come to take him to the Nest.

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized the dreaded moment had arrived at last, he swallowed through the bitter taste in his mouth, his heart was pounding like a carriage, if he didn't calm down, it would simply explode killing him even before he left the cell.

He gave a short wry laugh; somehow the thought was extremely funny.

One of the guards stepped forward and taking a large silver key from his surcoat began to unlock the chains.

Outside, the crowd had settled, waiting, so that for the next few minutes, the only sounds were of the guard's mail and the clicking of the chains as he worked. He closed his eyes, he had to snap out or he would lose it and seal his doom. He took a few shallow breaths and listened to the monotonous rattle of the chains, concentrating on nothing but the dull clank of metal, the hot breath of the guard bending over him, and the sun glinting on the helm of the one in front. He watched them like they were the only things that mattered, letting the mundane wash over him, shutting out what was happening, so that when the chains came off, and the guard pulled him to his feet he was more of an observer than the terrified participant from a few minutes ago, even if only a little.

Of course, he was afraid, how could he be human if he wasn't? But there was also some room left for rationality, the fact that he didn't beg the guards for mercy like the others was proof, the fact that he wasn't resigned to his doom but wanted to survive was proof.

A dry smile crept upon his lips; he had once heard that half the battle was the mental one, that the battle on the field was already lost, if the battle on the mind was, if so he seemed to be making progress in at least one half, though he didn't have a slightest clue on the other, he thought flexing his sore wrists. His muscles felt stiff, out of use, having spent an entire month locked up, so much for reflexes, he though scornfully.

The guard who had unchained him, shoved him forward and pinned his hands to his back, holding them firmly with one gauntleted arm as he slipped on a sturdy pair of iron cuffs and started marching him toward the door, while the other one walked ahead, one hand on the sword hilt at his belt.

The guards didn't carry spears as prison guards did, he noted and their cloaks were silver, with the blue raven carved on their breast plates; that meant they were the GodSwords, guards who only served the High Cardinal, superior even to the Emperor's bodyguards.

As they marched him along the long stone corridor, he counted the circular stained glass windows along its length, partly to take his mind off, but mostly because they looked so beautiful, filtering in beams of multicolored light, which fell in a shimmering pool on the floor, almost magical, after being locked up for so long in a cold stone room.

Twenty seven windows later, the guards came to a halt in front of a black iron door. He blinked; he had expected to be led outside directly.

One of the guards pushed it open and led him inside; the door was not locked as he had expected which meant the others had also made stops before him. And when he entered a torch was already burning on the wall.

The guard in front took it and led him to a wooden table, illuminating the contents.

He started at it wide mouthed; every conceivable weapon known to him lay there, illuminated in the dull orange glow. There were swords, lances, spears, morningstars, double axes, a bow, spiked maces, and even weapons he didn't recognize, he looked at the guard holding him..

"Choose" he said gruffly.

"What?"

"Pick your weapon, boy" the other one spat impatiently "Don't you know the rules? You are entitled a defense"

He wanted to laugh from how idiotic it sounded, what could possibly defend an untrained, half emaciated 17 year old boy from a Dragon, unless it was a thick walled castle?

He had heard legends of ancient times, where there had been knights strong enough to slay a dragon that brave men rode out looking for them, that once you slay a dragon you were no longer human, but so powerful that you were considered half a God. But they were just legends, and the fact that they were, only proved the impossibility of the feat.

For Dragons were too wild and too violent to be tamed, so much so that even for the bloody ritual they had to travel here… to the Dragon's Nest, instead of the other way around, not all the royal armies or the Magi had ever managed to capture one in any Kingdom, not for centuries…and maybe not ever.

And they wanted him to defend against that?

"Come on, we haven't got all day" the guard's voice cut through to him.

He nodded and again looked at the display before him, the swords looked sturdy, but they were too heavy, same went for the mace and axe, the bow, lances and spears would require aim, which would need practice, not to mention recovering after use, and he didn't know how to use any of the other weapons. It was beginning to look like the weapons were going to do him more harm than good when he saw it.

A small dagger, almost hidden in the shadows, he picked it up and held it, it was made of iron, a little rusty from lack of use and no longer than his forearm. He flexed it and made a swishing motion in the air, clumsily due to the cuffs, but it was light and not unlike the ones he had used to rob travelers.

"This one" he said holding it up.

The guard before him started laughing.

"Poor choice boy should have picked the sword. Are you simple in the head?" he said jeering.

"Must be…why else would he get caught? The other replied, and they both laughed again, a harsh raucous sound.

"Yeah, been looking forward to this one….the others made it past a minute, how many seconds do you reckon before the Dragon roasts this Loafbone?"

"The little twig ?" The one holding him exclaimed gesturing "I'd give no more than ten…thatis if he doesn't drown in his own piss first"

They both exploded howling, a cold mirthless sound, like the cawing of crows. It rankled at his nerves, tearing the edges of the tiny bauble of peace he had so carefully managed to construct.

Godswords Indeed!

"What are you looking at boy?" The first one asked "You want your mother? Wanna hide behind her skirts?" asked mockingly, clapping him on the back, hard.

"I want my momma. I want my momma." The other mimicked in a shrill high pitched voice.

"Think the dagger will save you?" the one in front of him asked quietly, viciously; leaning in so his face was just inches from his own "Think you are being smart? Not all the armies in the world will save you boy, not all…so what good will a rotten little dagger do you against the Dragon?"

They erupted laughing again; they were both looking at him with the grin of a child before crushing a bug, because they both knew what would happen. His eyes narrowed and his stomach clenched in a wave of anger, maybe he was alone and almost defenseless and about to die, but he wasn't about to be ridiculed, for something that he was forced to do, as a punishment for something that every creature in the world had the right to do, for trying to survive. His hold on the dagger tightened as a surge of utter rage coursed through him, primal and raw, and a feeling so potent and so alien that it startled him, directed not just at the guards, but at everything, the Emperor safe in his throne, the nobles gathered to witness his death, the guards shamelessly protecting them while people died and killed to survive, and the people themselves for being too weak to do anything but kill each other and the world for making him stand there with a rusted dagger in his hands, and he wanted them gone, he wanted them dead… all of them.

Looking at the guards squarely in the eyes without so much as a tremor in his features, he replied in a voice that cut through them like sword cutting through flesh.

"Just as good as any of the others will"

The guards stopped dead in their laughter and looked at him, mouths half open, eyes wide. Not from the answer, but from the voice that had uttered it. It was the voice of a man so completely devoid of feeling, save for one, a voice so utterly in control, so perfectly calm yet laced with such absolute hatred that it was impossible to believe the thin, petrified boy before them had uttered it.

It was the voice of a killer.

For a moment there was silence, so complete it was almost physical, the guards looked at him like an apparition as he stood still, meeting their gaze, then averted their eyes.

"We'll see how bold he is when he's up against the Dragon" one of them said at last, but his voice was weak, dilute, a sign of retreat.

The other one nodded.

"Let's go" he said quietly, and tucking the dagger to the side of his rough tunic, began to wordlessly march him through the door.

He smirked savoring the tiny victory.

For all though the twenty minute walk leading outside they never spoke again!

---

Bright sunlight hit him as he stepped into the deafening roar of the crowd. He raised his eyes to the clear skies and a smile crossed his lips as he remembered his pitiful prayers for rain a million years ago.

The guards now considerably bolder in sight of the crowd walked him to the floating crystal platform erected above the volcanic pit where the dragon nested; dragons always lived on volcanoes or other hot places, thriving on the heat and the conditions that would have been fatal to any other creature.

Walking along the sparkling column, he could see other platforms, giant slabs of floating stone, platforms of marble for the High Lords with silken cushions and bards to play harps and servants to pour sweet wine, platforms of grey granite for the Magus, representing the color of their order, where they stood in solemn waiting, platforms of Redstone for the merchants where they sat in rows of rising seats, and platforms of earth and rock for the peasants where they squatted, chatting animatedly. All held suspended by the combined magic of 50 Stone Magi who stood along the circumference.

There were also chariots floating between, drawn by creatures of magic, to get a better view than the static platforms, one stood out, a silver carriage drawn by two winged black bears, with thick collars of gold, a handsome Lord sat inside, a beautiful Lady at his side, she held a baby in her arms and locks of golden hair spilled about her shoulders, they looked almost angelic, he wondered if all High Lords and Ladies looked that way.

A group of young Magus stood in a circle to his right, chatting boisterously; they were not much older than him and still in training judging from the black hem of their cloaks, one of them waved as he passed.

"Good luck" he cried smiling, giving him a thumbs up, when their teacher, a greying man in grey robes pulled him back with a scowl.

And he almost wanted to smile back, for they seemed so carefree, so happy.

He had heard from one of the prisoners that witnessing the yearly executions was a compulsory ritual for the Magi, unlike the Lords and peasants, but while the magi witnessed it all, the Magus in training were brought in groups, with a new one brought in for every new prisoner, which meant this was the first time the guys before him were watching an execution, no wonder they were so excited, they probably expected a heroic battle, not a gristly murder, he thought disdainfully.

'But Execution? Why the Hell was he calling it an Execution? Didn't he resolve to survive? Then he'd better not make it a gristly murder even if not a heroic battle' he thought wryly.

One of the students hailed to him as he passed:

"I wagered you'd win" he winked at him, eliciting a look of horror from his teacher, who apparently had no control over them.

This time he did smile and gave a short nod, and he wondered if this clamorous lot would indeed become the grim, silent figures of their order in a few years, and what the students would do, if in his shoes, would they use their magic?

Magic - the life giving force possessed by all living things, every creature sensed it from birth, even unconsciously, like breathing and replenished it from the environment where the vital force coursed like blood, through rock, leaf and bone, even the bodies of the dead were said to be imbued with it, magic was life….some would say it was the world.

But the minds of Animals, plants and insects were said to be too primitive to do anything with the wonderful force other than possess, though there were exceptions, animals which had awakened magic, like the Unicorns, creatures said to possess the intelligence of a small child, and one of the few naturally existing creatures to have learned to control magic on its own.

Yet while the magical creatures only extended their lifespan or gained a new ability like flight or speed, humans had gone farther, and developed a method, a means to control the amazing force, thousands of years ago, that would give them the power to alter the laws of nature themselves, where a rock thrown above need not necessarily fall back down, and passed it on through a secret system for generations and that was how the Order of Magi came to be formed.

Every child at birth was given a test to determine its natural magical affinity, the church did it, even for peasant children and once identified they were taught to live in harmony with it, children with affinity to earth became builders, peasants, potters or miners, children with affinity to fire became smiths, animal trainers, soldiers or alchemists those with affinity to water became sailors, fishers, medicine men or cooks and children with affinity to wind became musicians, bards, illusionists, and so on… unless one had an affinity to Void. If a child had an affinity to Void, the rarest of the magical elements, the Order took them in, as early as five, to start a lifetime of training to become its future members �" the guardians of the sacred force. Not even the children of the High Lords were an exception to it.

But he wondered what affinity he might have had, had the test ever been conducted on him, there was no way of finding out anymore, as it could only be conducted on a new born, and without knowing the affinity his hopes of learning Magic were zero.

'I am like a rock….' He thought darkly '…a dead rock….'…helpless even more so than the winged bears he had seen….at least they had awakened magic, no matter how primitive.

Though he doubted if magic could help him at all, Dragons were intensely magical creatures, said to possess the intellect of a grown man, and their magic so strong even the Order's strongest wizards paled before them, the ability to convert the heat generated by the body to fire and survive the flames generated within was a feat no human could ever replicate or even comprehend, one of the reasons Dragons were feared so much.

But Dragon magic was pure and raw, undiluted power, like a raging forest fire that was of little use except for destruction, while the magic of the Order was like the carefully built flame of a lamp, infinitely less powerful but so much more useful.

But useful or not a lamp was just ash, when thrown into a flaming forest!

The guards halted; he snapped out of his musings and noticed that they had reached the end of the crystal platform.

And sitting straight ahead of him, in a jasper and jadeite throne was the Emperor.

---

The guards deftly stepped back, visibly relieved as a pair of Magi stepped forward to take their place.

They were not armored like the guards and held no weapons, wearing only the long grey robes of their Order, but there was a precision in the way they moved, sliding in swiftly and silently on either side, but with such ease, that it carried a sense of power he had never felt on any guard before.

The Emperor and the High Cardinal rose to their feet and the people in the floating platforms rose with them.

He stared at the Emperor as he stepped forward, getting his first look at the most powerful man in all of Agrymis; he was a man in his late forties, with a tall build, and if the phrase 'gracefully aged' applied to anyone he thought it would be to him, for his hair was still thick, and there was no belly or excess flesh in his body.

But that was the only credit he would give him, for he was the man who had started a war with their neighboring kingdoms Terin and Balirid and plunged Agrymis into chaos and murder.

He felt the same anger from before rising again, watching the Emperor standing there robed in the most ornate of cloths.

But he held it, the man was surrounded by Mage and Archmage who if the situation called for it would kill him. But that knowledge, the fact that he didn't lash out made him feel powerful, for he still held the fire from before, but he was controlling it; not consumed by it.

He smiled faintly.

The greatest power truly, was the power over oneself.

He felt the iron cuff slip from his wrist as the Magi removed it; instead binding chains of magic to his body, they had a faint translucent glow and felt like cool glass. They did not wrap around like the iron chains, barely just touched, almost floating over his skin and yet he felt his body growing numb, his strength flowing out, almost as if they were sucking it, all with barely a movement from the magi.

'So this was the power of magic' he thought with awe, looking at the silent grey figures beside him.

Cardinal Essunda came to a stop directly in front of him, wearing a long flowing robe of white and gold, to represent purity and justice, he was a short man, in his mid-sixties, with a rotund frame and large bald patch at the center of his head, he had a grandfatherly face and a kindly smile, but his eyes were too small and too sharp and constantly darted about, giving him an appearance of a rather large rat.

He raised his hands in a sign of blessing, smiling around good naturedly, and the people on the platforms, the GodSwords, the Emperor's guards and the Emperor himself bowed down in respect, but the Magi did not; the Order was above the church and served neither Priests nor Emperors being unbound to Kingdoms.

But he sensed the chains around his legs inch a little closer and felt them go completely numb, so that he fell hard on his knees, finding himself effectively kneeling before Essunda.

He looked at the Magi, standing still beside him, they had not even twitched, but he knew they had done that. But he also knew it wasn't out of respect for Essunda.

Essunda gave the sign for the crowd to be seated and spoke to him.

"Kael of Esterham, you stand here before God, the King and his Good Folk, accused of joining a band of Highway men and rebels, on the fog marsh, of threatening merchant and traveler carts, of robbery, theft and renouncing the King's Rule. Do you deny them?" He asked in a voice that was magically amplified by the vibrations of the crystal he stood upon.

He shook his head.

This was the first question.

Every trial required the Cardinal to ask seven questions to the prisoner before passing any sentence; seven being the church's Holy number, representing the seven mysteries of life, the seven days of the week and the seven colors of the rainbow.

He saw no point in even trying to lie his way out now, especially when the sentence was already decided and whole trial was just a namesake.

"No" he said out aloud.

"Do you have anything in your defense?" the Cardinal asked again.

"No"

"Why did you abandon the King's justice?"

"For the gold and because theKing has no justice"

There was a shocked murmur and a gasp from one of the guards, Essunda's eyes widened making his pupils look like dull white marbles. Then he smiled, trying to look amused, but failing.

"Strange are the words of a mind in darkness" he said in a voice that was meant to sound sympathetic but was too silvery to be genuine.

"If you say so" he said almost nonchalantly, surprised at how little he cared.

Essunda looked taken aback for a moment, but this time managed to quickly regain composure.

"Why did you not seek honest work?"

"Because there is very little honest work in war time; and even that I wouldn't get. I have no affinity"

There was a pause for a few seconds, the Emperor and Essunda looked at each other, frowning.

"By that do you mean the Void?" he asked cautiously.

"No" he shook his head "I truly don't have an affinity. The test was never conducted"

"I see" the priest said slowly, thoughtfully shaking his round head…."Then you truly are a Lost One"

He didn't even bother to respond, he was beginning to get tired of the whole thing, it didn't matter what the fools were doing, their petty games and pointless rituals, what mattered what he would do, once they threw him to the beast waiting below, as they had planned all along.

"But even you could have found honest sustenance had you ever wanted, a Scribe or a Songwriter do not require magic"

"But they require lettering"

Essunda shook his head again, making pitying tusking noises.

"Do you have a family?"

"No"

"Then how did you manage to live all these years?"

"By doing what I have been charged with"

"I see…" Essunda said, watching him like watching a wounded animal that was preparing to pounce…"Though my heart goes out to the poor child, I am but a servant of God, and God has given us His laws, and people straying from His Holy path must pay the price and as a man who has devoted his entire life in His service, it is my duty to make sure His will is obeyed"

He paused impressively, waiting for his words to sink in and continued:

"In the name of the Emperor, Phairdon Ves Heghr, ruler of Agrymis, the Land, it's Men and Magic, I Essunda Tries ve Lon Ni Maes, High Cardinal of the realm and servant of God hereby sentence you Kael of Esterham to Trial by Fire, for your crimes against God and the Realm, if be you guilty, may the fires purify your soul and burn away your sins." 

Fancy way of saying 'I'm throwing you to the Dragon eh?' he thought darkly.

The Emperor nodded his acknowledgment walked back to his throne; the man had not spoken a word through the entire trial other than stand beside the priest.

Everyone knew the Emperor ruled Agrymis and Essunda ruled the Emperor. But he wondered why he had even come, having done nothing.

For the same reason why the others have, he supposed. To have fun!

"Would you like to beg mercy to the Lord Almighty so He may find a place for your soul in His House?" Essunda's voice cut through to him.

"No"

"I see…" Essunda said nodding thoughtfully…"And should you be judged sinful, do you have any last wishes?"

"No" he said again… then added, more to himself than to the priest "because it won't be a last wish "

"What makes you think so?"

"The seven questions are already over"

Essunda's eyes narrowed for the briefest second, the dull black orbs meeting his own clear green ones. Then he said:

"Well then, may the sentence be carried out"

The magi lifted him to his feet; each holding one of his arms, their fingers hard and cold like steel; his body was still numb from the chains, but he felt them loosen just enough to let him walk. They marched him onto a small marble platform, just big enough for one man, and remained behind on the crystal one.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a slight movement of their hands, and the faintest whisper of an incantation and the platform began to descend, spiraling down, into the Dragon's Pit.

---

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Author's Note

A/N: That's Chapter 1, the next one explains the legend of dragons...and the fight that follows ;)

If you have taken time to read it...take some time to review...it's best gife you can give a writer and the only thing that keeps me going :)