Chapter Three
Flight to Jiersha

It apparently didn’t take very long for Cole’s newfound decisiveness and love to wane for he soon found himself regretting the decision to be encapsulated by Valnilior without so much as a fight. The trust he had just seconds ago was now gone and he no longer thought that flying across Arias on the back of a wyvern towards an unknown future was the smartest decision of his life. Questions that had once burned inside him had again surfaced and a sudden empty numbness began to creep along his body once more.
Why was this creature, the Beast of Meaning, councilor of the Four, interested in him, let alone the Quorum itself that wanted to question him? Question him about what? He knew nothing; he barely knew what was going on at that very moment! Why was it his mother knew the wyvern personally, why was it that she thought his father would be on its back, why was it that he suddenly had a strange power inside him that made him change the very emotion that he was feeling just seconds before, and how was it possible that his mother knew anything about it? “Don’t trust it,” she had whispered to him, “Don’t trust it.”
Something clicked. It was impossible, but it could explain everything. It was impossible… he had to know.
“Valnilior,” Cole screamed over the tyrant of wind that buffeted them both.
“Yes Cole,” answered the winged monster in return.
“Was my father…” he couldn’t bring himself to ask. “Was my father, a member of the Quorum?”
Silence fallowed this question; all Cole could hear was the whistle of the wind as it tried to bury itself into his ears.
“He was,” replied the wyvern sadly.
Disbelief tangled itself around Valnilior’s words as Cole processed them. It made sense, but it made no sense at all at the same time. His disbelief mingled with the actual possibilities and answers to his questions: why his father never came home, why he was so secretive about his work, why his mother knew Valnilior, even why the Quorum wanted to question him (no member of the Quorum was allowed to marry, let alone have a child), it all fit! He had to acknowledge the truth now, what other possibility could there be?
Then, at the peak of his delight in finally finding out the truth, one word struck Cole’s heart, “was.” Valnilior had said his father “was” a member of the Quorum, what did that mean exactly? Was his father cast out for his disregard for the rules or did something else happen to him?
Valnilior answered his unasked question, “He was killed last night while in search for information that could’ve helped to save our world.”
A deep, sinking, unrecognizable feeling plunged into Cole’s bowls. He knew not what this feeling was nor did he care, his father was… dead? Unprepared for the shock of this statement his mind wandered elsewhere, placing wards between it and the new information it had just received. But it was all in vain as his feelings overwhelmed his psyche, leaving nothing but despair and hatred and denial in its wake. Cole shook furiously as he drank in the words, “He was killed.” His tremors grew more violent with every syllable, “He-was-killed.”
Valnilior pressed on with his narration as Cole plunged himself deeper and deeper into misery, “Your father knew what was at stake, as a matter of fact, I believe he knew he would die that night, despite his force of will to achieve his goal.”
“Then why did he do it,” Cole blurted out, tears suddenly pouring out of the wells that were his eyes.
Valnilior was silent again, the thud of his wings becoming rhythmic and calming in the turmoil that was that moment. “He did it for you….”
They had arrived at the beach beyond the Onieros forest, finally reaching the edge of the Mogla.
“I never…” started Cole thickly, “I never asked him to-”
“You never had to,” interrupted Valnilior. “You are his son.”
“Why,” pleaded Cole, crashing his fists onto the wyvern’s diamond tough scales.
“All of your questions will be answered when we reach Jiersha.”
Cole didn’t push the matter though all of his body yearned to know answers. He wiped his eyes, though he knew it was pointless, and laid his head on his rucksack, using the cluster of clothes inside as a pillow. All he wanted to do was curl into a ball and waste away from that moment. Retreat somewhere where there was no existence that could be snatched away from you in an instant. Without life, he concluded, there can be no death… or pain. He fell asleep.

“Cole, wake now,” yelled a deafening voice that was followed by an equally deafening roar. Cole woke so suddenly that he almost fell off the wyvern beneath him. He clung to Valnilior’s neck as he tried to scramble back onto the beast’s back. Once he retrieved his footing he saw why Valnilior had woke him.
Just behind the behemoth Cole road, were scores of Valnilior’s kin that were as dark as the night that surrounded them. Hundreds of black wyverns filled the sky with clouds of wings, fangs, and scales, each one had their malevolent yellow eyes upon the Beast of Meaning that flew before them.
“What do we do?” Cole screamed frantically through the wind. Fear engulfed him as he realized that these monsters were the ones that Valnilior was avoiding.
“Losing them now is futile, even if there was some cover, my scales are too bright to conceal, even in the dark,” said Valnilior. “There is a chance that I would be able to avoid them long enough to reach Knish, but that is a very slim one.
“Aren’t you able to, you know, fight them,” asked Cole with a frightened glance behind him. “There has to be at least two hundred of them, but I’ve heard tales of your battles during the Great War, and of your many feats while serving the Quorum.”
Valnilior chuckled, a sound of stone crashing upon stone, “These are not any normal wyverns; they were the very same fleet of black beasts that the Fallen King himself used in the Great War. And though none of them have the capability of breathing flame, every one of them contains poison stronger than a viper’s and more deadly than a cobra’s. Though, I suppose if you’re up for the challenge, far be it for me to deny you the taste of battle and blood.”
Valnilior’s words barely started to register in Cole’s mind before the great wyvern slanted his weight to the right, turning to face the oncoming horde of serpentine creatures. Cole stared, open mouthed at what he had just done. This beast is going to kill us both, his mind screamed as the black wyverns grew closer with every beat of Valnilior’s wings.
“If you’re going to help human, you had better do it soon,” Valnilior roared hungrily. “Show me and these monstrosities the full extent of your power!”
Cole could not believe what he was hearing. Did this wyvern actually mean for him to fight these dark beasts? Sure he knew some magic, but he couldn’t take out more than a few of them until the power drained his strength. What was Valnilior playing at?
“Cole, I suggest you do something now!” The fleet of dark wyverns was now just yards away. Cole could feel the mildew of their collective breaths running down his face as panic gripped his stomach, threatening to rip it out from his bowls.
Then, without thinking, Cole lifted his right arm into the air, grasping at the clouds, and screamed, “Kynishka!”
The reaction was instantaneous, dark clouds collected above as his hand lit up with uncontrolled energy. It whistled like the screeching of thousands of crows as the electricity collected from the sky into his hand. Then, with a final burst of energy, Cole threw the lightning with all the power and authority of a God. Five, ten, twenty wyverns felt the sting of the voltage and fell to the ocean depths below as the others fled, collecting into a new formation just feet behind the once charging Valnilior.
Cole slumped forward, almost passing out as he remember the most important rule that he was ever taught while dealing with magic. He remembered the day he had finally had enough courage to ask a sorcerer to teach him the art of magic, the Fireweaver, Jin. He remembered Jin’s hesitation at taking on a pupil for most did not live to become true masters at the science of casting spells. He had said, with seriousness that Cole had never heard him use before, “Cole, before you ask that of me you must know the danger that magic wields over us mortals. For long before your time this art was not called magic, but the Power of the Gods. You do know the story of Eden and her brothers do you not,” he had asked him.
“Yes,” he had said impatiently.
“Then you know of Heros and the power he wielded, which was only half of his creator for he could not generate life like the Three could. Then know that we mortals only wield but a fraction of Heros’ power, for our imperfect bodies cannot sustain the Power of a God for long. It eats at us Cole; it eats at our very life force. Being a Fireweaver, I myself have used half of my life energy whilst performing the tricks that amuse you and your fellow villagers. Know that no mortal can perform this power without a cost of your energy, your very life, every time you cast a spell.”
Cole had not been scared by these warnings, he was a child, why should he care about his life force, he had no reason to grow old anyway, all that he had wanted back then was to become a great magician, as great at Jin was. Cole smirked at his ignorance as his eyelids became heavy, blurring everything around him. “You never know when your next spell will be your last,” Jin’s words range in Cole’s ears as he shook off the sudden drowsiness.
“Is that all you can do,” asked Valnilior. He sounded slightly disappointed.
“Is that all I can do,” echoed Cole in outrage. “I’d like to see you try and perform more magic than that.”
“My species cannot carry out the Power of the Gods human, though my particular ancestors were very proficient in the art of fire breathing.”
“Well then why don’t you do some“ Cole was cut off as Valnilior roared his disapproval at being challenged by a mere human.
“Fine child, I’ll show you the power of my race.” He roared again as, with one stroke of his massive wings, he lunged upward, his body arching in the form of a half circle. Cole clung on for dear life as the wyvern beneath him upturned, revealing his back to the heads of the dark fleet below. Then, as if in answer to Cole’s anxious prayers, Valnilior leveled off just above the Mogla, his now open maw facing the dark wyverns before him.
Before Cole could thank Eden properly for the safe return of gravity, he heard a deep, foreboding rumble vibrating beneath him. Just before he could ask Valnilior if he felt the ambiance as well, molten blue jets of fire erupted from the wyvern’s jaws, engulfing the confused dark horde before him.

“Cole… Cole… COLE, wake up or you are going to miss the ceremony!” yelled a woman through her newly sixteen-year-old son’s barred door. Her name was Diesha and she was very beautiful for her age (thirty-two, but she wasn’t about to tell anyone that). She had flowing black hair that she always wore in a ponytail, her eyes were the lightest shade of black, almost gray, and she always walked as if she were dancing. Presently she was banging on her son’s door for the third time that morning trying to wake him up.
Cole was sound asleep on the other side of the door, snoring peacefully on top of his makeshift bed. His room was a cluttered mess from the night before; piles of half eaten food and strewn cups littered the hardwood floor keeping company for the copious amounts of torn wrapping paper. His bookshelf was shifted five and a half feet away from its original spot, and a third of its contents were spilled in various places across the room. Cole was a mess himself, his face was spotted with crumbs and his clothes were stained from when his friend Shanks splashed his chest with his mom’s last bottle of cranberry juice. His long dark hair was sticking up at all angles and his dark, muscular body was folded in a strange position that looked anything but comfortable.
So he slept on as his mother tried to break the door down because Cole, who had had a lot of experience with his mother barging in unannounced, had locked it before he went to bed.
Diesha was now officially tired of trying to wake her son. All that was going through her mind was why he hadn’t listened to her when she told him to keep the party short and how she was going to rip Cole’s door out of its frame. Finally, she heaved a great sigh, clenched her fists, and slammed them against the door as she screamed at the top of her lungs, “GET UP!!!!”
Cole snorted awake and coughed as he swallowed a bit of shredded chicken that had been waiting patiently by his mouth all night, just trying to be eaten. He sat up too fast becoming light headed on top of the excessive coughing that came from the piece of chicken. He shook it off, regrettably swallowed the chicken, and ran to his door, bypassing scrolls, clothes, and the entire mess from the party last night. He unlocked it with a flourish and without a word to his mom (who still hadn’t realized the door had opened) ran to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he leaped to his room, got dressed in his signature tunic, pants, and coat, went to the small kitchen near the front of the house, and started to eat the lunch that his mom had made him hours ago.
“So Cole, do you feel any different now that you are officially a man?” Diesha asked while cleaning the dishes. There was a note of sarcasm in her voice.
“Laugh all you want, but from now on you have to treat me with a little more respect,” stated Cole.
“I’ll treat you with respect when you deserve it,” scoffed Diesha. “I am still your mother you know. Nothing is going to change that. And another thing, when you are able to clean your own room without me asking then maybe I’ll treat you a little better.”
Cole rolled his eyes as he started on the apple that that had accompanied the now eaten lamb. “Is dad coming?” he asked hopefully between mouthfuls. He hadn’t seen his dad since his last birthday and there was still not a guarantee that he would be home this year.
“He said that he would try to be here,” she said unconvincingly. She saw Cole sadden a little and quickly said, “Your father may be a busy man, but he would never miss the chance to see you become one yourself.” She gave him a hug, hoping that it would console him enough to change the subject. It didn’t work.
“What does dad do that always makes him work away from home?” Cole asked hopefully. Ever since he was old enough to know what a job was, he badgered his mom to tell him what his dad actually did for a living. And she would always say, “Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t get paid enough for it. All you have to do is look at this house to know that.” Cole always found this statement to be his mother’s way of getting off the subject seeing as how their home was just as humble as anyone else’s in Kiesh.
“He said that he would tell you when you were old enough,” she said simply, “I suppose that that day would be today seeing as how you are now a man.” Then she added quickly, “You had better get going soon, the celebration is going to start. I’ll see you later tonight.” No newly sixteen-year-old man’s mother was allowed at the coming of age ceremony. It has always been the father’s post to decide if the boy was ready or not by tradition, and though most of the old ways were now extinct, it has always been the greatest part of the ritual. He swallowed the last of his apple, handed his plate to his mom with a smirk, grabbed his cloak, and stepped outside.
Cole’s thick boots padded down the hard red sandstone ground, creating plumes of red dust that floated carelessly westward. He reached a stone cobbled trail within a few more strides, giving an abrupt end to the now distant dust clouds. He breathed the ice cold air as he gazed after the flying dirt, watching it being devoured by the sky as it flew beyond sight. He smiled.
As a humble northern island town, Kiesh had its many drawbacks, but one of them was certainly not the landscape. Noble pine trees scoured the South side of the isle, making up the mass of forest known as the Onieros. To the North, nothing else could be seen but the many giant mountains known as the Playcas that consumed the settlement with its towering presence. Cole took it all in, as if seeing it for the first time; everything seemed different to him now, almost as if it was all on fire. The thousands scrub bushes surrounding him, the trees of the vast forest behind him and the tall ramparts of the Playca above him, even the Skirkash river just a few miles ahead had a burning glow. The sensation left him as he started his trek towards the town’s main market, he shook his head as he walked, wondering what had happened to his vision.
It wasn’t long before he reached the top of a hill and looked down into the market just a few hundred yards below, rending the thoughts of his recent apparition from his consciousness. Cole could hear the joyous music and see the swirling colors of blue, purple, and white that flooded the marketplace. There was always a great commemoration when a boy in the village turned sixteen, and it was tradition that there was to be a huge celebration in his honor. Long before his time though, the ritual was created in order to test the young men of the village to see if they could care for themselves and their families. They were left in Onieros Forest for a single day and night, equipped with only a single dagger not even sharp enough to skin a snow squirrel. If they survived they were men, if they didn’t, then… well, they didn’t. Cole knew he would’ve succeeded if the custom still existed, though he was still glad for the current practice of the preparations for a massive feast in the new man’s honor.
“It looks like the whole village showed up,” Cole said to himself with a smile as he started to walk down the hill, already tasting the smell of the food as its scent wafted down his throat. The smell grew in intensity as he jogged forward; making his stomach ache with hunger, apparently his lunch had done nothing to appease its appetite.
Cole reached the edge of the market and headed Northwest, toward the center of the bazaar, where the feast would be held in a few hours. The streets were packed with people singing, dancing, selling, buying, and performing, it was suffocating. Cole bumped into at least twenty people that wished him a happy birthday before he met the man that he was looking for.
“Here’s the man of honor,” said a portly man that just emerged from a bread cart with a giant loaf of sourdough. His name was Frode, a kind of unofficial mayor of Kiesh. He was a short and balding man with numerous wrinkles that covered his face, giving him the look of a giant pit bull. He wore a thick wool jacket over a purple long-sleeved shirt and puffy plush overalls that had been accidentally died green, or at least they looked green by accident. His small twinkling blue eyes watched Cole as he came closer.
“Hey Frode,” said Cole, “Have you seen my dad yet?” If there was anyone in town that knew everything about everything, it was Frode.
Frode’s smile faltered as he said, “No, I haven’t seen him yet.” Cole looked crestfallen, making Frode add hastily, “But I don’t think that he would miss this. You’re a man today! This celebration is for you, and you shouldn’t let your dad’s delay get you down. And if he doesn’t come, I’ll preside for you.”
Cole said nothing as he stared past the great pit bull. The awkward silence drew on for a while until Cole asked, “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Well, nothing right now… we are still getting ready… thought that you’d still be asleep from what I heard about your party last night!” He laughed as he took a large bite of the sourdough. “You could walk around and find some of your friends while we get everything ready.”
“Alright,” said Cole, “do you know where I can find Shanks?”
“I think he went over there with your Fireweaver friend, Jin,” He pointed toward the town stables.
Cole brightened as the name of the flame caster reached his ears. At least Jin was able to sail all the way from Knish to join in the festivities, he thought cheerfully as he waved his goodbye to Frode.
It wasn’t long before he spotted his friend, Shanks, amongst the sheep enclosures. He was younger than Cole by about a week, but he was already larger than Cole in both length and girth. He wasn’t a native to Kiesh, as anyone could tell by his pale skin and thin blonde hair, but Cole was the first one to welcome him when his parents settled at the foot of the Playcas and they had been pals ever since.
Currently he was immersed in conversation with a Fireweaver by the name of Jin. The famed sorcerer was dressed in the traditional garb of his trade. His black, flame-sewn overcoat that reached his feet swayed in the wind slightly revealing his pearl white undershirt and pitch black pants that were tucked into his shin high leather boots. Jin was the tallest and most lanky person Cole had ever met. His wild black hair that came down to his shoulders framed his gaunt face perfectly. And though all of this made him look slightly intimidating, he was never found acting older than a teenager.
“Hey Cole!” waved Shanks enthusiastically as he came into view.
“Hi guys,” greeted Cole once he reached them, “what’s going on?”
“Well,” said Jin with a wide grin, “we were just discussing your party from last night.”
“Yeah,” Shanks butted in, “I was telling Jin about the whole mule fiasco.”
“Hey,” remarked Cole suddenly, “I remember now… so… that’s how my bookcase ended up in the middle of my room.”
“I still can’t believe your mom didn’t wake up during that,” laughed Shanks.
“So,” chuckled Jin, “Cole, have you had time to practice that lightning technique I showed you last week? I know I’ve been gone for a while, but that doesn’t mean my students can slack off.”
“Yeah, I mastered it the day you left for Knish,” said Cole rather boastingly.
Jin whistled and said, “Wow Cole, it took me months the first time I tried to control lightning, you are something special kid!” He looked down at him with admiration. “You have a knack for fire that I’ve only ever read about.”
“I may be good, but you will always know more than me.”
“Not if you keep surpassing me with every new move. Maybe it’s time to show you learn my greatest spell in my sack of tricks. But not today, it will have to wait until after the celebration.”
They left the stalls after checking on Shank’s flock, his parents were sheepherders in their old land, but business didn’t go so well, that’s when their friend had told them of the little northern town of Kiesh that paid good money for wool to survive. So they brought their flock across the sea, losing about half of them in the process, and another fourth when it became apparent that the flock wasn’t accustomed to eating the bristly plants that grew here. But, after a few years, they started to make a profit, and now they were one of the families most relied upon for wool.
They followed the crowd for a while, really having no choice unless they wanted to be trampled. Then, finally, they were able to escape through an alley between two competing dried fish food stands. That’s when Cole saw the most beautiful girl in the village, Azula. Her face was framed by radiant blonde hair that made her magnificently bright, star blue, eyes glow gold. Not to mention she had a voice that could calm a raging sea. Of course this was all exaggerated by the fact that Cole was in love with her.
Shanks knew this and maliciously pushed Cole forward so that he was face to face with her. “Uh, hi Azula,” he said, still recovering from the surprise of being forced into conversation.
“Hello Cole, happy birthday!” she replied. “Do you know when the feast is, I can’t find Frode anywhere.”
“He said it would be a few hours. Are you going?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t miss you becoming a man,” she smiled, a smile that froze time every moment Cole had the good fortune to see it.
“Well, I’ll see you at the feast then?”
“Can’t wait” he said rather bravely. She smiled at him again and bade farewell, fighting her way back into the bustling crowd.
“Few, well done, well done!” said Shanks as they started walking again. He clapped his congratulation. Just think, that probably would never have happened if I hadn’t pushed you forward.”
“I would have said something,” said Cole, “it’s not like I’m… you.”
“Oooo, low blow,” laughed Jin as Shanks suddenly went sour.
After another hour of wandering the streets and spending money, they made their way to the center of the market where the feast would be held. Usually there would be some kind of entertainment that would be performed on a large stage while everyone purchased what he or she needed, but today it consisted of five, large, marble tables that were being cover with mountains of food. There were all different varieties of meat, from the wild boar that roamed the forest, to sheep given generously by the various sheepherders of the town, and the strong mountain dear that could jump the peaks as gracefully and as loftily as any mountain goat. Imported fruits, and vegetables, beer, wine, and spices covered the rest of the tables.
“They really went all out for you didn’t they?” said a pompous voice that showed more than a hint of loathing.
Cole turned from the tables to see a boy by the name of Josh. He had short, bristly light brown hair; black squinty eyes, a knotted nose that only his mother could have given him, and, like every native in Kiesh, dark skin. He was over sixteen, wore a dagger on his belt everywhere he went, and always seemed to dislike anyone he came into contact with.
“Josh,” nodded Cole curtly. Josh was a mean spirited guy who did nothing but try to pick a fight with Cole.
“So, you ready to admit it or are you still not a man?” asked Josh.
“I told you already Josh, it wasn’t me,” said Cole.
“Really,” Josh raised his eyebrows, “are you saying that there shouldn’t be some retribution for what you did?”
“I’m saying that I didn’t do it in the first place, and that I don’t feel the need to go through a one sided fight where nothing can be accomplished.”
Josh looked at him angrily, “Are you suggesting that you would win in a fight against me?”
“I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you that I would win in any kind of fight against you,” said Cole, anger gripping him now as his body urged his brain to let it pummel the boy in front of it.
They glared at each other for a second and then Josh said; “I will see you after this little party of yours. Bring your sword.” And with those words, he walked away.
“I really hate that guy,” said Shanks “I can’t believe that he’s stupid enough to ask for a fight with swords,” he laughed. “If he means to kill you than he’s in for a surprise, I’ve seen what you can do with a blade.”
“What did you do to that guy to make him so mad at you?” asked Jin.
“He thinks that I was the one who told his parents that he stole all of that money from Frode a few years ago,” shrugged Cole, “He’s been trying to get me to admit to it ever since.”
They walked up to one of the polished marble tables together and sat down. “Did you tell his parents,” asked Shanks.