The Fire God

By A. A. Wright

Leora's life has become as hard and stagnant as the earth she mines in. So when a summoner of sorcerers appears at her village to recruit her to the capital, Leora cannot resist the temptation. But fate takes a different turn when her sister Scarlette is sold away to an auction house. Stopping at nothing to have her returned, Leora unleashes an

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.A. Wright
• Release date: Jan 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9798989218714

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Aoife stood over her children, her nose held high in the air. Beware the god of death. For he will steal your last breath, she warned, her voice projecting into her shanty home. Oh, wicked and vile, cruel and vain. The god of death bestows only pain. Aoife’s tone grew sinister and low with each rhythmic beat. The words rolled off her tongue with an air of grandeur, falling to her two children below.

Scarlette, the youngest, sat nestled in her sibling’s lap with wide, dark eyes. Her mouth hung open as she watched her mother spin a tale, unable to pry away from her wondrous storyteller. Meanwhile, her elder sister Leora had her head thrown back, eyes staring at the ceiling.

And we are but of flesh and bone, Aoife continued, pulling at the taut skin of her bony forearm. She raised both arms out, her voice traveling to the kitchen and out the front door. Weak and vulnerable, but not alone. For our shining god of creation defeated the evil, and from its ashes, built our nation. After finishing, she cleared her throat in a succession of small coughs.

Ah! Scarlette suddenly jolted in her seat with a squeak. Leora giggled from behind, satisfied that her simple poke to Scarlette’s side received such a reaction. Scarlette let out a whine and looked at her mother, a frown stretching across her quivering lips.

Aoife scowled and lowered to rest on her knees. Leora, she chided.

The family relaxed on top of their bed mat, the thin gray sheet wrinkling underneath their weight. From the garden, the periodic thuds of their father’s work outside resonated past their thin walls. The sun bore down onto their wooden hut, heating it like an oven and baking the three inside at a constant temperature.

What? Leora rolled her neck from side to side, her dark curls sticking to her face. "I didn’t know she’d get that scared."

Aoife held the youngest daughter’s hand within her own, her thumb rubbing the child’s skin. You were scared once, too. Aoife pointed at Leora, a finger waving in the air as a warning.

She gazed at the stark contrast between the siblings. One was small and pale, new to the world, while the other was tall, dark, and ready to start a life of her own. It looked as if Scarlette replicated Aoife perfectly, while Leora copied their father, Mrig.

It’s important Scarlette knows about our country’s history. We don’t need her scarred. So be nice. Aoife believed that in no time, Scarlette could hum this poem to herself as a constant reminder of their marvelous god.

Fine, Leora answered, tone flat, and she avoided her mother’s eyes and rounded her shoulders. Aoife knew very well Leora was tired of this rhyme. She had repeated it over and over throughout Leora’s childhood. Reminding her of the evil that their god, Adamus, had defeated.

Once, very long ago, Leora too was enamored by the story. But this shine had become dull and overused. Leora had even complained once that it was nothing more than the country’s most used fable. A mere rhyme to get children to follow their parents’ orders and respect their ruling deity. To the young girl, it was a bitter reminder to be thankful despite living in one of the poorest villages in the Kingdom of Solum.

Scarlette sat up fully. Are you sure it’s true, Mama? she questioned, breaking her mother’s somber stare at Leora.

Aoife smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners and the dimples on her cheeks deepening. Do you think I would lie to you? She smirked and pinched her daughter’s nose between the knuckles of her fingers. Of course it’s true.

Aoife had taught them everything they knew. Whether it be through stories or equations, she had done her best to give them something this village did not offer—an education.

What did the death god look like? Scarlette asked while fumbling with her hands.

Aoife let out a raspy hum as she thought for a moment. It was said the god of death was made of dark smoke that sucked up the souls of the living.

Scarlette audibly gulped and pressed into her sister. And the god of light stopped it?

Aoife forced herself to swallow before answering, her voice growing hoarser the more she spoke. Of course. Our marvelous sun god Adamus has protected these lands for generations. As do all gods from each nation. My family was from Filltetir, where Forail ruled for quite some time. Your father’s family was from– Aoife erupted into a coughing fit. The gruff and stony sounds coming from her mouth made both children flinch.

Leora promptly moved her sister off her and joined their mother’s side. Mom?

Scarlette brought a thumb to her mouth, nibbling the skin as she looked at her convulsing mother. Her eyes flickered between the scene before her and the door. The sounds of their father’s gardening were still present outside.

These bouts of coughing and wheezing seemed to get worse with each passing day. After Scarlette was born, Aoife had always been on the weaker side. She had battled colds and viruses in mass since then, but this sudden illness was far more taxing. She spent most days in bed, and her complexion faded more than it ever had. No amount of sleep could restore her strength, and each passing day seemed to take away a little more of her energy.

Aoife gripped the bedding below them, her arms shaking. Through her barks and shallow breaths, she could finally speak with a smile. I’m fine. She waved her hand to shoo her daughters, wanting nothing more than to continue. She wanted to enjoy her time with her children.

CHAPTER 1

Ihurried out of the mouth of the cave, the brilliant light from outside causing my eyes to narrow. But I couldn’t afford to adjust slowly. I had to be fast.

As I continued my descent down the steep landscape, a familiar wobbly voice met my ears. You better hurry, Leora. I think he’s still by the welcoming tree, but probably not for long.

Thank you, Ida, I wheezed as I ran past the elderly woman. She pointed toward our village’s entrance, always being the helpful neighbor.

With no time to waste, I broke into a run and cut across the grassy hills. Small houses made of stone and wood scattered about. Their inhabitants slowly returned from their day of harsh labor, trudging along the incline of the slopes. The women were soaked with sweat, their faces red from plowing the fields, while the men trudged home, caked in dust from the mines. Each wore muted clothes stained from the elements, the fabric filled with holes and tears from years of wear.

Despite the ordinariness of the day, it was indeed special. Never had a summoner of sorcerers shown up to this barren village.

After turning past the livestock barn, I could finally make out the welcoming tree. Unlike its name, the tree looked anything but approachable. It once stood tall in the sky, with some villagers recounting that it could touch the clouds. But after the last Ignis War, lightning struck right down the middle of the trunk. Though charred and rotting, it served as the border of our town.

At last, I could hear the powerful voice of the summoner. It had been several years since the last official mage visited the town. But he was a healer, not a recruiter, sent to save us. At that time, a terrible sickness had flooded the lands of Solum, reaching even our remote village.

Any one of you could be our next battle mage, the summoner announced to the small crowd before him. I joined the gathering with a stammered breath. The man was dressed in a beautiful black and gold cloak. His waist was adorned with a belt filled with a set of mysterious tools that I couldn’t discern. His hair cascaded down his back with an ethereal radiance, akin to golden strands kissed by the sun. For those that wish to enroll, we will be leaving Gera in two days. He then motioned to the large bag he had set down next to the rotting tree.

What? That’s it? I couldn’t help but mumble aloud.

You missed all the demonstrations, a low, rumbling voice greeted me. I knew this man without even looking; Brax Dourock.

Shit.

That’s what you get for working in the mines past safe hours.

I frowned and finally craned my neck to see Brax. He was much larger than me in both height and width. Just by looking at him, you could tell the earth shivered from his presence. Something that was surprisingly attractive. In bed. Shut up. It’s not like you haven’t done it.

Yeah, but I’m also a lot stronger and faster than you.

I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to the summoner of sorcerers, a title given to mages with a keen eye to recruit. He had been passing along a small piece of paper to a select few villagers. It took him one glance my way before it was my turn to take it.

T-thank you. I took the flyer. I wanted to speak more, but my words fell silent. The mage was pristine and smelled of delicate rose petals. A stark contrast to the sour onion-like smell coming from the villagers, myself included. He waited, seeming to sense I had something to say, but grinned and moved onto passing the papers once again. This time to Brax.

Eh, it’s all bullshit, Brax dismissed as the mage moved on.

It is not bullshit, I spat back at him before carefully reading the page. It had a very detailed drawing of the elite battle mages. Each member posing against one of the best academies in the world: Solum University. Mages are amazing.

Brax’s eyes swept upward dismissively, and he proceeded to crumple his flyer and throw it to the ground. It’s bull. You don’t just become a mage. You either have it or you don’t. They just do this shit to get extra money in their pockets once you pay to sign up. I mean, look at him. He gestured at the blonde as he continued with his handouts. How much you think that cloak runs for? Ten, maybe twenty zeolites from our mine? That’s about 5000 gold right?

It’s not about the money, Brax. It’s about the magic and protecting the people with it. I looked longingly at the photo in my hands. I’m going to go ask my father if I can go.

No, you’re not.

Yes. I am. My voice was stained with annoyance. Brax reached for me then, but I evaded with ease. You know the rules. Only touch me when I say you can touch me.

Brax beamed deviously. Oh, I know very well. He moved closer, despite my clear disinterest. When can we meet again? His dark eyes twinkled against his sunburnt skin. In the setting sunlight, I could have sworn his undertone was icy blue.

With this news? Not anytime soon, I snarked and began walking back to my home. I’ll see you at the mines.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Brax grumbled and kicked the earth. While he certainly was not bad in bed, he wasn’t good enough to get in the way of my mission. I hurriedly pushed past Brax and willed my tired feet up the hills. Having a summoner come was the first miracle of the day. For the next miracle, I would have to perform it myself. I would need to convince my father to let me leave.

My mother had died from the arctl fever, a disease named after the great sorcerer who eradicated it. And ever since, my father became insistent on my involvement with the household. But the more responsibilities I put on, the more he poisoned himself with alcohol and sadness. A few years ago, I started to work in the mines just to keep our land. From dawn till dusk, I would continue to mine for various precious metals and the incredibly sought-after zeolite.

So far, mining has been the hardest labor I’ve done. My body changed from that of a frail girl to a sculpted woman. Dirt and soot tarnished my once-clean skin, while my curly hair became distraught and tangled. My feet and hands had been covered in such horrid callouses that I could no longer sense touch in places. I had also worn my once-strong nails down to stubs.

Compared to my idol-like sister, I was nothing but a work mule. Scarlette, even at just thirteen, was strikingly beautiful. It was no secret that everyone in the village compared us with one another. Scarlette, who took after our mother, had beautiful wavy red hair and black-as-night eyes. Her skin was porcelain like a doll, and smooth as cream. I, on the other hand, was constantly dirty, rough, and sported dull, frizzy, brown hair. It seemed the only thing we had in common was our mother’s eyes.

By the time I had reached our shack near the woods, the sun had fallen past the horizon. Crickets chimed their songs alongside toads and frogs. Flying bugs whipped and whizzed past my face while some landed on my skin, begging for blood. Swatting the annoyances away, I hurriedly entered our home. It was quite small and elevated off the ground by nothing but rock and wood. The foundation sloped against the incline of the landscape. Just off to the side was our small garden, yellowed and dry.

Father? I called out. Scarlette? There was an uncomfortable silence as I lit the oil lamp by the door.

As I turned to the only bedroom, Scarlette and I knocked heads. Ow–Leora, Scarlette grumbled like a child and rubbed her skull.

You ran into me. I winced in return. I peeked past the teenager, looking for any signs of Mrig. Where’s Dad?

The light within the lamp flickered, and the orange hue bounced off Scarlette’s sunburnt skin. Her shoulders were especially reddened from working in the fields. Getting more liquor from Ida, of course. She clenched a book against her chest and shifted her weight between her toes and heel. C’mon your food will get cold. She ushered me into the room without another word and went to the cooking pot.

I knew she wanted to tell me all about the book she had finally finished reading. Ida had given her this gift not even a day ago. Unlike Scarlette, books were never my fixation. I’d much rather hear a story than read it. Fortunately, Scarlette loved to talk all about her favorite stories. But tonight I had something of my own I wanted to share.

Scarlette, I got something. I began to pull the paper detailing the battle mages, but she pushed forward a tray of food.

Eat first.

I frowned and narrowed my eyes at my impatient sister. Luckily for her, working all day in the mines made me famished every night. I sighed, placing the lantern in one corner, and sat down on the thin mat we used as a bed. Eagerly, I shoveled the rice and stew meat into my mouth. And while you eat, she nearly sang out and flipped open the novel in her hands. I finished this earlier today and I can’t stop thinking about it.

Isn’t it just a fiction book? I spoke with a full mouth. The portion on my plate seemed smaller than yesterday, much to my dismay.

What’s wrong with fiction? her voice rose an octave.

I shook my head and swallowed a heap of rice. Nothing, I just thought you preferred texts like Mom’s. I glanced over at the stack of books in the far corner. The collection had diminished over the years with each tax season.

Of course I love those. Her posture slumped as she also looked over the novels. But I’ve been branching out lately. And I think I found my new favorite genre. She turned to face me once again, a faint smile returning to her soft features.

Which is? My eyebrows raised, and I nodded for her to continue.

Romance.

Ew.

Leora. Scarlette pouted her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes. It’s a good book, she griped.

I swallowed the last bit of my treasured food and let out a deep sigh. My stomach wasn’t nearly as satisfied as it should be. But the hot sun had been wilting our vegetables and drying our soil. The most we could eat were grains and small portions of meat. Fine, what’s it about?

The moment my sister’s face lit up, I could rest easy. There was something so satisfying about taunting and appeasing her. Maybe it was because she looked so much like our mother. Or maybe because her expressions were so amusing.

Scarlette cleared her throat and began her monologue, detailing the plot. It was a simple novel compared to other texts she’s read. A fated love between a prince and a duke’s daughter. Filled with melancholy and comedy. It was similar to many adult novels I came by and immediately abandoned. Romance was fine, it was lovely in person, but reading it was surprisingly boring.

Just when the young girl was getting to the apex of the story, our father had snuck in. Oh, Leora, you’re back. Much to my surprise, his voice was coherent. In his hands, he held two bottles of liquor and a single teapot.

What’s with the tea? I asked slowly and pointed to the cracked ceramic.

Our father watched me for a few moments before following my line of sight. A gift. He looked at Scarlette then, avoiding her eyes. From Ida.

After our mother died, he could never quite look at my baby sister the same way. Our father refused to stare into her eyes, settling for the top of her head instead.

Regardless, now that he was home, I could finally talk about my topic of interest. Father, I want to talk to you about something. I blinked and fixed my posture.

Mrig rubbed the stubble on his chin with the back of his hand and studied my figure. Scarlette, he began, holding out the pot for her, go make this for us, please.

Obediently, the girl took the pot and placed it on my tray, grabbing both on her way out. The mage summoner was here today, I started, pulling the piece of parchment from my pocket and unfolding it. They gave me a referral so I could try out.

What? Scarlette shrilled, standing up with the platter in her hands. You didn’t tell me about any of this?

My lips formed a tight line, and I widened my eyes at her. Why don’t you go make the tea, Scarlette? My voice was as tense as my jaw. I had to talk to Mrig about this alone. Even if I had to grovel at his feet, I had to convince him to let me travel to the capital. Albeit I was never good at groveling but great at screaming. My father stiffened and cleared his throat, annoyed by my presence. I swallowed hard and paused for a moment. I knew I couldn’t collect my thoughts for long, as his patience was quite thin. Please, Father. Please, can I go?

Of course not.

And why not? My volume rose despite my intent to keep it level.

Because I’m the head of this family and as head, I decide. You need to stay and work, Leora. Who else will? We need to eat. His face was wrinkly and stern while his body was hunched into a curve.

Heat started to rise to my face. You know I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life.

This is your life, he continued to spit. He took a shaky step away, ready to end the discussion.

My lips tightened further, the skin cracking. "This is not my life. I’m not meant to mine forever and you know that. Mom knew that."

Don’t speak for your mother. He instinctively looked back at Scarlette. The kettle hung over the fire pit in the middle of the home.

Then don’t speak for me. I am twenty-five now, Father. I should be able to join the battle mages. I should be able to leave this place. Our shack was hardly a home. The floorboards were rotted and riddled with water damage from our faulty roof. In the middle, a hole filled with coal resided. You can come with me. You and Scarlette. I stood up and peered past our father. Even in the limited light, I could see the girl’s eyes shift around. You want to move too, right?

Scarlette bit her lip and kept her head low. We had talked about the prospect of the capital for years now. The idea of being surrounded by flourishing land, magic, and academies had always been appealing to her. Yet now she remained silent. Mrig watched with a grin as Scarlette poured the hot tea into our chipped cups.

A girl like Scarlette doesn’t want to go to the city. She wants to stay with her family. To find love. While this was mostly true, Scarlette was only thirteen. A girl her age should be learning about the world rather than chasing after fleeting feelings. Our mother would have preferred that too.

My timid sister carried the tray of tea to the room, handing us our respective cups. Scarlette, I pried, leaning my head forward, waiting to hear something. I watched as she simply sat back down by her book.

Oh, come on, I breathed and looked between the two. I know it will be a rough start, but if I get into the academy, I can support you both. Sure, I’ll start out as a novice mage, but I could raise ranks. I could rise to sorcerer status.

There was nothing but silence between the two. Scarlette held the warm mug between her hands and licked her lips. I’m not thirsty, she weakly stated. My shoulders drooped as I stared down at her, my head shaking slowly. Scarlette avoided my eyes and instead placed the cup back on the tray.

Our father snorted with frustration. If you can find a big enough zeolite from the mine…Then I’ll let you go.

What? Scarlette and I questioned in perfect harmony. In an instant, my being was enveloped with hope and bliss. My feet felt lighter and my heart pounded forcefully in my chest. Really? Perhaps I had heard him incorrectly.

He lowered his brows, as if confused by my reaction, but nodded. "If you can find one. Then it can pay for travel and we can go," he spoke quieter, clearly wanting me to do the same.

Of course. This old man didn’t think I could find the precious stone. All I needed was ten small crystals, or better yet, one large cluster.

A childish squeal left my lips as I pounced on my father, embracing him tightly. It had been years since we last warmly embraced. He stiffened against my squeeze and I felt the clamminess of his skin against my own. Oh, thank you! I won’t let you down. I tore away with haste and handed my glass to Scarlette. No minute could be wasted.

You’re leaving now? Stay and have tea before bed. Mrig followed me as I rushed to the door.

Of course, I have to. Otherwise, someone else will find the zeolite before me. Don’t worry, we got those shipments of lumos stones the other day. You know, the ones that light up the dark? I trotted down our slanted steps, nearly falling as I hurried.

Leora. Scarlette’s voice cut into my panic. She peeked past our father as he blocked her from leaving.

I’ll be back with some zeolite. I promise. Without hearing another word, I hurried towards the tapering mountains.

We lived in the biggest mining district of the Kingdom of Solum, but in the smallest village, named Deerbreak. It’s the last village before the Bhakh Mountains to the west, and the neighboring Kingdom of Filltetir to the north. A world I had not explored outside of books and oral tales.

I had been stuck in Deerbreak for as long as I’d had cognitive thought. My mother and father came here long before they had children. The thought of venturing out to any distant land was never big on my father’s mind. I’m not even sure he’s ever left the village before.

But knowing that I could prove, not only to myself but to my family, that life flourishes outside this humble village powered me. Despite working nearly all day, I felt no tiredness in my muscles or mind. Instead, vigor filled my being. A feeling I had missed like a distant friend.

CHAPTER 2

Ihad no sense for how long I