Fire-Kissed
“Well, now this really is just too convenient.” Garren walked a slow circuit around the Heart of Fire. “We need a place to put you, and here you already have a cage built, like you were expecting us.”
Marcus ground his teeth, glaring down at the murderer from within the wooden monument.
The traveler grinned back at him. “What do you think? It looked like that old woman was going to wet herself when we pulled them all out here to watch. Getting a little cold in there yet? Well, don't you worry, a night or two in weather like this,” he spoke jovially, gesturing at the snow falling all around them. “And I think that Blessing will have a new mascot.”
He laughed and slapped one of his men on the shoulder, walking back toward the town hall where several other travelers were unloading several enormous, black crates, much like the one Marcus had seen in the stable.
Marcus began rubbing his arms, trying to stay warm. They had taken his clothing, of course, leaving him naked to the elements. “W-what are you doing with those?” he demanded.
“Getting cold already?” Garren laughed back at him. “Well, let’s just say that inside one of those, you’d be more than a little cold.”
The man opened one of the crates. It hissed, spilling a heavy, white fog over the ground. Garren reached a gloved hand inside and pulled out a container that pulsed with a soft blue-white light. His eyes gleamed.
“They’re a wonder, aren’t they? If those bastards from the Busch family are to be believed, this stuff would freeze a flame and then set it right back to burning when it’s flash thawed. I guess we’ll be putting that to the test tomorrow, won’t we?” He shook his head, replacing the strange cylinder and closing the crate. “With these, I'll bring your flowers home and keep ‘em nice and fresh the whole way. Maybe if I have some left over, I’ll see what it does to a human being. Think your lady friend would like to help further science?”
Marcus slammed his fists against the wooden cage. “You stay away from her!” The man just laughed once more, strolling into the building as one of his men closed the door behind them.
Furious, Marcus paced the little cage, trying to stay warm. He glared at the man standing guard in front of the stables, who just looked at him and shivered a little, pulling his coat on tighter. The snow began falling in earnest, piling up into deep drifts around the Heart.
Marcus tried to keep moving, jumping up and down and rubbing his arms and legs until they were raw, but he was just so cold. He found himself sitting down, back against the wooden side of his cage, drowsing, and startled awake. I'm going to freeze to death, he realized with sudden certainty. The lone guard apparently came to the same conclusion, scowling at the cloud-ridden sky and slipping inside the stables. Marcus watched him vanish and another pang of terror shot through him. I'm going to die alone.
He shook his head and tried to move, but his limbs were like lead. He felt tired, so, so tired. He hadn't slept since… when was the last time he slept? Maybe if he just closed his eyes... just for a minute, everything would feel so much...
“Marcus.”
His eyelashes crackled and broke as he managed to lift one horribly heavy eyelid. Had that been a voice? He tried to move, to look around, but he couldn't see...
“Marcus,” the voice cooed to him again.
A woman’s voice? Maybe she can help me. He tried to get up, but his body wouldn’t obey. Is someone there? he tried to ask, but his tongue sat in his mouth, heavy and thick, refusing to move.
Something delightfully warm and soft was suddenly beneath his head, shifting his body away from the frigid cage,laying him down, supporting him. He felt himself relax as a gentle heat flowed into him, easing away the gnawing cold of the winter night. Both of his eyes came slowly, painfully open.
Staring down at him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin was the color of smoke, exotic and lovely. Her eyes were a bright hazel, filled with gentle caring as she gazed on him, burnt umber lips turned up in a sad little smile. Her hair was the color of a coal just before it flickers to life. It fell over her shoulders, lazy curls cascading down around him, warm and fragrant.
“How?” he croaked, throat screaming in protest.
“Hush now.” She put a single, almost painfully warm finger to his lips, eyes worried. “I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to be this way.” Her voice had a musical quality, strange accent playing with the words. “Perhaps we’ve already waited too long.”
“Please.” Marcus swallowed against the pain of speaking. “Please, the town... you have to warn them. The travelers… in the hall… they can’t…”
The woman lifted her lovely face toward the town hall, her luscious lips turning down in a slight frown. Marcus watched the way her hair moved, marveling at it. He'd never seen hair like that, so thick and lustrous and... he blinked his half-frozen eyes a few times. Had the tips of her hair just flickered?
“We promised that we wouldn't interfere. But now...” She shook her head, strange, flickering hair swaying with the motion, and brought her warm gaze back to Marcus. “They are coming for you, for the world we created. Perhaps I can give you the strength to stand against them.” She lowered her face to his, until their lips were only a breath apart.
Marcus felt his pulse quicken. “What are you–”
“Will you accept my gift,” she breathed, “and with your passion, shape the world?”
His head swam. His eyes drifted shut. Am I dying? Is this a dream? She smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. He nodded, body quivering in anticipation.
Softly, gently, she pressed her mouth to his. It was almost intoxicating, the feel of her lips, the warmth of her breath as it flowed into him. It was so warm, so... so hot. His eyes flew open. He was burning! He tried to roll away, and she released him from the kiss. He could feel his lips burning, the fire spreading down his throat, as if he had swallowed hot coals!
Marcus thrashed on floor in agony, his body aflame within. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t even scream!
Calmly, the woman rose to her feet and gave him another heart-breaking smile. He stared up at her, eyes pleading, but she merely turned and walked away, bare feet whispering over the frozen planks of the Heart of Fire.
His back arched in blinding pain as his mind tried to make sense of things. How did she get in here? How is she only wearing that little red slip in this weather? Where–
Marcus rolled to his side, curling into a ball as a fresh wave of pain seared its way through him. On the floor he saw something small and black etched into the floor. His vision began to fade as the pain ate away his consciousness, but the last thing he saw was a woman’s footprint, burnt into the wood of the Heart of Fire.
Playing With Fire
Marcus awoke with a start. Awoke? He thought to himself. Which means... I'm not dead.
It took his brain a few moments to ponder this, and he gingerly rose to his feet. Taking in his situation, he saw that it was still night, but the snow must have stopped some time ago. Odd that the snow was piled up all around the courtyard, yet within the Heart of Fire it was completely absent. His toes tested the floor, and he frowned. Slightly damp, almost as if it had all been melted away. But why was he–
Memory crashed over him. The travelers, his brother, Lena. The woman in red. Gulping, his eyes fell to where she had stood. A set of tiny, delicate footprints was burned into the wood. He shivered, and then paused, confused.
He wasn’t cold. Why wasn’t he cold? It was freezing outside. He was standing in the middle of the town, in the middle of a winter night, completely nude, but he wasn’t cold. And there was… something else. It was like… like a butterfly just out of sight, bright wings flashing by almost unseen, drawing his attention. It was coming from the fields. From the lilies. His eyes found the flowers and...
“Whoa,” he breathed, a wisp of smoke escaping his lips. That probably should have disturbed him. But right at that moment it just didn't matter.
Outs
ide of town, the night was dancing. Flickering lights raced through the darkness, painting patterns and pictures before his eyes. He squinted, craning his neck to get a better look over the wall. Were those the ember lilies? He'd never seen them like that before. They were... magical. Gazing at the field in wonder, he reached out a hand.
And the patterns responded, flowing back toward him.
He drew in a startled breath, taking a step back... then slowly swept his hand to the side. The colors followed, swirling through dizzying shapes and forms. Marcus laughed aloud for the sheer joy of it, spinning the lights in the field into a dazzling kaleidoscope.
The door to the stable creaked open. Marcus spun, sending another wave of color through the ember lilies. The traveler guarding him stepped out, scowling. An aura of color surrounded the man, brighter around his exposed face. Marcus squinted at it. It wasn’t enough to be distracting… but what was he seeing? Why did the man have the same swirling colors as the lilies?
The traveler looked up, meeting Marcus’s eyes. His mouth dropped open. “Founders’ blood,” the man spat, fumbling for his gun, gloved hands having trouble getthing purchase on the weapon.
Anger flared in Marcus's chest, and the flames in the lilies responded. The field that surrounded Blessing went dark as the fire in every flower’s blossom leapt up, rushing toward the town. A ring of heat roared into the