A Time Of Flames Book Two - Tears Of Cirryn

By Robin Giddings

A Time Of Flames – Book Two – Tears Of Cirryn…

‘Each morning, I wake with a name on my lips. Always a girl’s name. Always the wrong name.’

With Raymond – his friend and Sentinel – at his side, Sebastian begins searching for the woman he is destined to be with. The woman who will cure the darkness within him. Only together can they hope to save Vatharlia. 

As they journey, Sebastian and Raymond are forced to face the horrors of the land and their own personal demons.

Accepting that Conway will never return, the City of Rell rejoices. However, the joy is short-lived as another ruler emerges. In brutality, she is more than Conway’s equal. Uniting the cities of Margeena, Schan and Vess, she forms an alliance with the Sisters of Blood which threatens to hasten the fall of Vatharlia. Other forces also gather to prevent the return of the Raven God and make the Time of Sorrows eternal.

For now, Cirryn is merely a shadow and a memory. A scattering of signs and whispered words meant for those who wish to see and those who need to hear…a chosen few answer their God’s call.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035843732

Robin Giddings

Robin Giddings is a session musician, composer, and author of the fantasy series ‘A Time of Flames.’ He has Asperger’s Syndrome, which he sees mostly as a positive thing. Robin began writing fantasy stories at an early age, creating alternative and sometimes dark worlds where it’s okay to be different. In his spare time, he plays Role Playing games and fights for animal rights. Robin now lives in Cambridgeshire with his wife, Jane, and two naughty cats.

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About the Author

Robin Giddings is a session musician, composer, and author of the fantasy series A Time of Flames. He has Asperger’s Syndrome, which he sees mostly as a positive thing. Robin began writing fantasy stories at an early age, creating alternative and sometimes dark worlds where it’s okay to be different. In his spare time, he plays Role Playing games and fights for animal rights. Robin now lives in Cambridgeshire with his wife, Jane, and two naughty cats.

Dedication

As always, for Jane

Copyright Information ©

Robin Giddings 2024

The right of Robin Giddings to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035843725 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035843732 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

Completing a novel is a daunting and lonely experience so here I would like to thank those who have helped me along the way.

Jane Giddings

Penny Parker

David Clarke

Kell of Kellerica Maps – www.kellerica.com

And, of course, my family for all the love and encouragement.

Stain the day with ever-deepening shadows.

The Chosen extend hands to feel and touch within the darkness.

One precious moment in the ocean of time.

One precious moment to unite those bound by the vanes of a crimson feather.

The Word of Cirryn…

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Chapter One

Snow-capped mountains pressed hard up against the city of Rell. A sepia-tinted sun rose beyond the Unbound Forest. Pale light caressed the mountains, casting faint spire-like shadows across the walled city.

People stirred, rising from their slumbers to face another day in the land of Vatharlia. Others were already at the city gates, waiting. Farmers stood shoulder to shoulder with other traders, all hoping to sell their goods for coin or crystals. Amongst the growing line of people were those desperate enough to risk death for a chance of time away from the horrors roaming the land.

Hooded figures gazed at the ground and prayed.

Rell’s massive gates swung noiselessly open.

Two guards dressed in chainmail surveyed the impatient gathering. The emblem on their chests showed the image of a red dragonfly on a pale blue background. It marked the guards as followers of Syiss. One carried a rifle, and the other a handgun. The curious meeting of newer technology and older times was now commonplace in Vatharlia.

The line moved slowly through the gates. Every cart and wagon was thoroughly searched.

A tall man, head bowed, shuffled past one of the guards. A strong hand reached out to grab his stained and tattered robe. The man’s eyes studied the dirt at his feet. The guard tapped the man’s chest with the muzzle of his handgun. ‘Remove your hood.’ The man looked left and right, searching for the help he knew would never come. The guard tightened his finger on the trigger. ‘I won’t ask again.’ He released his grip on the man’s robe and watched coldly as he slowly removed his hood. A crimson mark covered most of the man’s face and neck. He fell to his knees.

‘Please, it’s merely a birthmark. I’m not what you think I am. I have no hatred in my heart. I possess no tainted magic. I am no Aberrant.’

The guard’s expression remained unchanged. ‘You are what I say you are, and I say you are of mixed blood. You are cursed.’

The man sobbed his denial. He turned to the ever-moving throng of people. ‘Help me. I seek only shelter.’

As one, the people looked away.

The guard smiled as he pressed the gun’s muzzle against the man’s forehead. Without thought, he pulled the trigger. Blood and gore sprayed the line of people who, as one, fixed their eyes upon the gates of Rell and kept moving.

Inside the city a sombre grey building, low and featureless, stretched itself out at the edge of Rell’s northern quarter. Narrow slits served as windows. Other structures appeared to cower in its presence.

A naked young woman stood in the square space her father referred to as The Room. Rusted chains hung from the walls and ceiling. Channels cut into the stone floor led to an open drain by her feet. A wooden chair rested against the wall. The young woman stepped towards it, taking in the crude construction and the leather straps fixed to its arms and legs.

She sat down. With hands resting serenely in her lap, she waited patiently until her fractured mind conjured horrifying images. She drank in the graphic scenes of mutilation, rape and torture. Screams assaulted her ears as the channels filled with blood. She watched, unmoved and unmoving, until the images melted away.

She waited for a moment, staring into the cold space, before slowly rising and stepping into the hallway where memories of her childhood assailed her. Times of wonder and unbridled joy flooded into her mind, overpowering her. The memories cascaded like water, saturating her senses. She fell to her knees, sobbing like a baby.

She had no idea why her life changed so dramatically at the age of seven. Why her father became someone she no longer knew. Or why he began what he referred to as her education, strapped to a chair in The Room, hour after hour, where she was forced to watch him act out sadistic fantasies.

She wiped away the tears and got to her feet.

Continuing her walk through the maze-like house her father built, she eventually came to a small room where pale blue armour was laid on a single bed. She dressed, feeling the caress of soft leather on her naked skin, before studying herself in a full-length mirror. She liked what she saw. She was tall, blonde and beautiful. The product of a Menneth whore and a sick depraved man.

Syiss, daughter of Conway, strapped on her sword and headed out into her city.

Chapter Two

Syiss looked around as she walked. She surveyed everything that once belonged to her father and now belonged to her. Cold eyes flitted between grey city walls in the distance, and the people who were hers to abuse or cajole as she saw fit. Some dared to gaze upon her as she passed. Some bowed, and others moved away. She cared nothing for them. Her only concern was that they accepted her as the daughter of Conway and accepted her as their leader. It had taken time and the help of the only person she trusted for people to reluctantly begin following her.

After years of imprisonment, she emerged from her father’s house reborn as Syiss Bringer of Sorrows. She took the name from an ancient collection of stories known as the Book of Sorrows. The stories were written after the invasion of Vatharlia by a bloodthirsty race known as the Outsiders.

Like her father, Syiss bore no allegiance to God or man. She simply loved the story of the legendary hero, Syiss, who was said to have defeated Cirryn at the steps of Tal Solshia. In a short time, she had brought order and united her father’s chaotic forces under the sign of the red dragonfly. The young girl whom her father once loved so dearly was gone forever.

A large man in polished chainmail approached her. A rifle hung from a strap across his shoulder. He bowed his head.

Syiss gestured his act of subservience away. ‘What is it, Zaresh? Walk with me.’

He did as asked, staying a respectful arm’s length away. His voice was deep and measured. ‘I thought you should know there’s a meat wagon at the gates.’

She turned to face him. ‘Why should that interest me?’

‘They’re Harvesters. They said you invited them.’

Syiss nonchalantly adjusted her sword belt. ‘I did. Allow them in and get someone to show them to the city square. I will meet them there.’

Zaresh pursed his lips and set his jaw, his usual sign of displeasure.

Syiss looked straight ahead. ‘Save your words and grimaces for someone who cares. Your sole job is to keep me safe and advise me of ways to get under Gulan’s skin.’ She turned to face him once more. ‘Do you understand?’

Zaresh nodded. ‘Then let me do my job.’

Syiss looked to the sepia sky and expelled a loud breath through pursed lips, letting her frustration be known. ‘Very well. If you promise to stop mentioning it, every five minutes.’

Zaresh called out to two passing guards. They instantly changed direction and stood before him. Zaresh addressed the older of the two men. ‘Yuim, I am putting you in charge of Syiss’s safety whilst within the gates of Rell. I want her protected at all times and a guard stationed outside her house day and night.’ He took silent delight in witnessing Syiss’s petulant pout.

Zaresh and Yuim were old friends who served Rell’s ruling family before Conway arrived. Yuim’s scarred face displayed a hint of a smile. It let Zaresh know he was pleased he had finally won that small battle.

Without further words, Syiss walked away. The two guards quickly fell in behind her.

Zaresh watched them for a moment before heading for the city gates.

The city was beginning to fill, coming alive with noise and movement. Shops opened, and traders began to set up stalls in the city square. Syiss headed there. She passed grey-brick houses with windows barely large enough to let in light.

Yan, the owner of The Balladeer’s Lament Tavern, brushed dirt from the wooden benches that lined the cream-coloured walls of his establishment. Impatient customers gave him a hard time, grumbling about how parched they were. He ignored them with practised ease.

Syiss took a detour, which led her to a quaint part of the city where old wooden buildings huddled together as if finding comfort in familiarity. The houses were said to be the beginnings of Rell. Most were run down and uninhabited. An elderly white-haired man with a wispy beard sat on the porch of the nearest dwelling. He stood as he watched Syiss approach. His hand shot to his right leg as if standing caused him discomfort.

Aided by an oak staff, he hobbled towards Syiss.

‘Sit back down,’ Syiss called out. ‘You were old when I was born. Who knows what form of tainted magic keeps you alive.’ She turned to the guards who remained four paces behind her. ‘Wait here.’

The white-haired man laughed. It was a laugh filled with warmth and love.

Syiss walked to him. She placed her arms around him and held him close for at least five heartbeats. She stepped back. ‘How are you, Lonis?’

With a sigh, he feigned boredom. ‘The same as yesterday and the day before, on and so forth, the same as every day you ask me.’

Syiss smiled. ‘And I will ask you again tomorrow and the next day until you are no longer here to ask.’

Lonis studied her. ‘And then what will you do, child?’

There was a moment’s silence, and then Syiss said, ‘I will miss you.’

Lonis didn’t respond. He hung his head and walked towards his house. ‘Come, I have a surprise for you.’

Syiss followed him into the small dwelling.

The smell of decaying wood greeted her as it always did. She found it comforting. Lonis gestured towards a wooden stool resting beneath a small round table. Syiss sat down. Lonis hobbled to a shelf and began sorting through a chest full of bits and pieces. ‘I was certain it had to be here somewhere. I use some of the other houses to store my precious things. It took me a while to find it.’ He removed an object from the box. With a nod and a smile, he handed it to Syiss before easing himself into a padded chair. He faced her. ‘Well?’

Syiss studied the object. ‘It’s a doll, A rather ugly doll. Thank you, but I am beyond such things.’

Lonis rested his staff against the back of his chair. ‘Look closer. It’s not just any doll. It’s your favourite. You never went anywhere without it.’

Syiss studied it more closely. Silent moments passed before she violently cast the doll to the floor as images of a fiery sun, snow-covered fields, and falling leaves assailed her. Blinking rapidly, she desperately struggled to confirm her reality.

Lonis reached his hand across the table to clasp hers. He felt her shaking. ‘I’m sorry, child. That doll was your constant companion before your father began to abuse you. I thought you would like it.’

Syiss breathed deeply, attempting to compose herself. ‘It took me to Blue Sky, the place I’ve told you about many times, the place of seasons.’

A look of absolute sadness visited Lonis’s lined face. ‘We’ve spoken about that. The seasons ended here when Dalshimar, the Time of Sorrows, began. Now there is only the sepia-tinted sky and the rain. Seasons are something none of us has ever experienced.’

Syiss pulled her hand from his grasp. Anger touched her as she spoke. ‘For once, you are wrong. I have seen and felt these things: the coldness of snow, the warmth of a golden sun.’ She shook her head. ‘I admit the memories are hazy and blurred.’ Biting her bottom lip, it seemed she was about to cry. She looked straight at Lonis, her anger all but forgotten. ‘My father was with me. It was before he changed. Before I died and Syiss was born.’

Lonis cast a glance towards the doll. His heart ached as he spoke. His words seemed as much for himself as Syiss. ‘I know what you went through. I could not stop it, as I could not prevent your father from killing my daughter. You know Ollett was one of the first to die.’ His mouth tightened, and his eyes glazed as he confronted the memory. The noise, the blood and screams. Those awful weapons invoked fear in the people that—even in these dark times—I had never seen. Some fled. Some reached for their own weapons only to be cut down. The metal objects we now know as grenades exploded all around us.

Pieces of stone and glass lacerated bodies and brought more death. Amidst the smoke and panic, I held my dying daughter and gazed upon your father. He was laughing. Lonis massaged his forehead with the palm of his hand as if attempting to block the images from his mind. His voice became steadier. ‘Although already on its way to destruction, I knew, from that moment, Vatharlia would never be the same. Some considered your father an Aberrant, something thrown up by this endless Dalshimar. But that didn’t explain his strange clothes or weapons. Others thought he had travelled between worlds.’ He briefly closed his eyes. ‘Most of us thought it impossible.’

Syiss’s features hardened. ‘And yet, somehow, he made the impossible possible. So, why did you finally decide to tell me when you have known the truth for so long?’

Lonis absently picked at his long yellowing fingernails. ‘I must correct you. I suspected it for a long time. I have only known for sure since your father disappeared. You, of all people, must know how devious and secretive he was. I listened and bided my time until I discovered he had a journal hidden away somewhere. When I was sure he was gone for good, I searched the house and eventually found it. Reading it left me in no doubt about your father’s brilliance and the, shall we say, extent of his troubles. More importantly, it contained the location of the archway he used to travel here.’ He went to continue.

Syiss interrupted him, ‘And you still won’t let me see his journal.’ She paused. ‘I could make you.’

Lonis smiled. ‘You could, but you won’t. Deep down, you know I am only trying to look after you. You love me like a father, and I love you as a daughter. It gives us both something to cherish in this awful world.’ His voice fell to a whisper laced with sadness and regret. ‘Keeping the journal from you makes me feel as if I am finally doing something to protect you. I knew what he was doing when you reached your seventh year, but I felt powerless to do anything about it. I thought about taking one of his own weapons and killing him. I’m ashamed to say I lacked the courage. I could only get close to him and become the adviser I had been to others. I did all I could. I hope you know that.’ He pursed his lips, and, for a moment, it seemed as if sadness and regret would overwhelm him. ‘I guess I didn’t want to tell you the truth about where your father came from because I didn’t want to lose you as well. But it was selfish of me. You now know where the archway is. Have you sent guards there as I suggested?’

Syiss nodded.

Lonis considered his following words very carefully. ‘What if there was a way for you to travel to your father’s world, would you go there? It has to be a better place than this.’

Syiss rose from her stool and sat on the floor beside him. She rested her head upon his lap. When she spoke, her voice was that of a young child. ‘I might visit there one day if a way can be found. But, for now, this is where I belong. I want to bring the seasons back to Vatharlia and be that little girl again. I want to live in the place I have seen. The place called Blue Sky.’

Lonis stroked her hair. ‘And how do you plan to do this remarkable thing, child?’

Syiss closed her eyes. ‘By killing everyone, of course.’

Chapter Three

Shafts of light pierced the Unbound Forest’s dense canopy. The sky beyond slowly darkened as the rain began to fall.

Two men dressed in robes trod the soft ground. One of the men could rightly call the land his home. The other was destined to follow and protect. They walked an unseen path as ancient as the forest that surrounded them. Their journey will only end when they find the girl they are searching for.

The man who called the land his home was known as Sebastian. He was special: a Talsheama, chosen by Cirryn whilst still in his mother’s womb. He and the girl he seeks are the hope of a broken world.

The man at his side was named Raymond. From the moment they met their lives had been linked in ways they might never fully understand. Ways they might not want to understand. All Raymond really knew was that he would give his life to protect the man who walked beside him. He was, after all, Sebastian’s Sentinel.

Sebastian lengthened his stride. ‘How far do you think we’ve walked?’

Raymond took a quick glance over his shoulder. ‘It’s impossible to say. I guess four or five miles.’ He took a deep breath and studied the staff Niya had given him. ‘Some strange things have happened since we arrived here, but this place seems like a paradise. Where are the horrors the Valryell spoke of?’

Sebastian looked at the fruit-laden trees. ‘I have no doubt we will run into some soon enough.’

Raymond nodded.

They worked their way through an overgrown part of the forest, easing away branches and finding gaps where they could. Raymond’s robe snagged on a thorny bush. ‘Paradise or not, I hate the fashion here. I understand the need to cover my armour, but perhaps we could buy something else when we find a city. What do you think?’

Sebastian didn’t answer. He looked down at his own tattered robe and thought back to his time on Earth when his wardrobes overflowed with expensive clothing. ‘Although I felt as if I didn’t belong, there are some things I will miss about my old life.’ He watched his friend force his way through the undergrowth. ‘You must also miss a lot of things.’

‘I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘Think about it now.’

‘Okay. Technology. The Corvette I borrowed. My wife, I guess. I’ve tried, and yet I can’t bring myself to hate her.’ He pursed his lips. ‘There are probably loads of things if I allowed myself to dwell upon it, so I don’t.’

They came to a clearing where two fallen trees edged a natural path. Raymond brushed burs from his hair. ‘Let’s sit for a while. I think we need to have a serious talk before going any further.’

They picked apples and berries before sitting to face each other on the decaying tree trunks. Sebastian took a bite of an apple. ‘What’s on your mind?’

Raymond smiled at the question. ‘What isn’t?’ He attempted to collect his jumbled thoughts. ‘As I said earlier, a lot of strange things have happened to us since we met. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting fed up with feeling I have no say in any of this. I think we must at least prepare for what this world might throw at us.’

Sebastian reached back to tap the hilt of the sword resting between his shoulder blades. ‘I’m prepared.’

Raymond studied his friend. ‘That’s not what I mean. Did you ever leave Camden? Before we met, did you ever venture abroad at all?’

Sebastian shook his head. ‘I never felt the need, and the thought of stepping onto an aeroplane terrifies me.’ He paused to think. ‘As I told you, we moved around a lot when I was young and I went with you to investigate the death of the bastard who started all this, the bastard who called himself my father. But that’s about it.’

‘That’s the point I’m trying to make. I’ve travelled quite a bit, but to say this will be different is an understatement. The Valryell did their best to prepare us. However, it was never going to be enough. I understand you were born here, and this land is your home.’ He absently rubbed the dirt from his hands. ‘But we have no real idea of what lies in store for us. We have an entire culture, a whole way of life to learn. If we have any chance of finding the girl you are destined to be with, we have to appear as if we belong. That will be harder than you think. Can I see the coins Niya gave you?’

Sebastian reached into the pocket of his robe and handed over the coins. Each was silver and rimmed with a different precious gem.

Raymond looked closely at the largest coin. On one side was the portrait of a male Talsheama. He flipped it over. The image of the girl they sought, or someone very much like her, gazed back at him. He handed the coins back to Sebastian. ‘Did Niya say anything about their value?’

Sebastian shook his head.

Whilst watching a look of concern spread across his friend’s handsome features, Raymond got to his feet. ‘It’s okay; we’ll just have to figure it all out. Let’s take a look at the map Niya gave you.’

Sebastian stood by Raymond’s side and unfurled the map. Raymond’s eyes roamed across it. ‘Did Niya say where might be a good place to start?’

‘Not really. She told me Repler was the only city that hadn’t fallen prey to Dalshimar. She said it’s still governed by the House of Repler, whatever that means?’

Raymond turned full circle, attempting to orientate himself. ‘Well, it seems to be somewhere south of here. We best get going.’

They journeyed on. Raymond’s words had raised doubts neither of them wanted to face. Respecting each other’s need for silence, they kept a good pace until the day turned into night. The close bright stars conjured disquieting shadows amongst the trees. The shadows took human form and occasionally shaped themselves to resemble something more disturbing. A light flickering in the distance drew Sebastian and Raymond’s attention. They headed