Crown of Flame

Chapter 1

Serena

         “It’ll be just ahead. Everybody stay focused. We can weather this.”

         This snow-covered landscape is the only home I’ve ever known, but its pristine whiteness is just as dangerous as it is beautiful. There are ten of us traveling together, and Nielson leads us through the freezing wasteland toward the distant towers. He wears a wide green coat that contrasts with the blank wilderness, emphasizing the buried trees that echo across the horizon.

         I struggle, feeling the weight of my frostbitten fingers as I shiver erratically. Even under layered coats, Prazh’s chill is unforgiving. The golden amulet my mother gave me, covered in fiery red symbols, hangs around my neck, jangling slightly with every movement.

         I wear it to remember everything I’ve lost, and to try to remember her.

         We climb another slope, and the tall, dark aberrations become visible to me. Conjured husks of obsidian stand tall over Prazh, the quickly erected footholds of dark elves who would enslave us if they had their way. To me, they look both angular and nonsensical, reminding me of large shale knives, with pulsating runic symbols that intermittently radiate violet.

         “They’re terrible,” I say aloud, feeling my heart race in horror.

         “They’re nothing we can’t handle,” Nielsen says. “Let’s keep our composure. We’re not dying in vain today.”

         I nod, understanding the very real possibility we’ve prepared ourselves for. There’s a good chance most or all of us aren’t getting out of this alive. But if we can make life more bearable for our friends and family back home, it will all be worth it.

         In those towers, we know they’re conducting horrific experiments on the humans in Prazh. From what I’ve heard, most dark elves would just as soon be rid of Prazh—the cold, inhospitable environment found not worth colonizing.

         But these are not most dark elves. Somebody decided that our freedom was an abnormal violation and sought to rectify that, no matter the cost.

         “We’ll get justice for Ket soon enough,” Nielsen says. “Remember why we’re doing this.”

         My foot kicks something hard in the ground, and I nearly trip.

         “Hang on!” I exclaim.

         “No time,” Beth, one of my friends, says. “The sun should be down soon. Then we’ll have to find shelter again.”

         While they trudge forward, I lean down, unburying the object in the snow. I’ve lost most of the articulation in my hands, even through my gloves.

         The lump is a human man, covered in ice. He’s long dead, his eyes glassy and wide open. From the looks of him, he could have easily taken on most of the monsters in the wilderness, but he underestimated the nightly freeze, a look of terror permanently etched across his face.

         Poor bastard.

         What could have scared him so much in his final moments?

         I don’t immediately recognize him, so he must have come from one of the other camps on Prazh. I think of how many have died trying to get to these camps, or as abducted victims of the dark elves. 

It only hardens my resolve.

         I wish I could give him a proper funeral. Most likely, he’ll wind up the food of a hungry worg or ursain.

I mourn him quietly, before seeing how far behind I’ve fallen and dashing to catch up with the group.

         “We don’t want to leave you behind, kid,” Aldor says, tipping his scarlet wide-brimmed hat. “Try to keep up.”

         He gives me a charming smile that accentuates his deep, chiseled jawline, his stubbly face covered in ice.

         “She knew what she was doing,” Beth reminds him. “Don’t give any thought to her mistakes.”

         “I don’t want anymore in-fighting,” Nielsen reminds us. “We move as a unit. Please, for the love of whatever gods you follow, throw aside your egos.”

         Nielsen stops walking, and the rest of us follow suit.

         “Why’d you stop?” Pierce, the group’s elderly curmudgeon, asks.

         Nielsen reaches into his haversack and retrieves a golden spyglass, peering into the distance.

         “I was afraid of that,” he says, before tucking it away. “Guards stationed out front.”

         Pierce huddles over, shivering. He notices a long, sturdy branch on the ground beside the nearby cliff and picks it up, testing its durability. As Nielsen spurs back into movement, Pierce uses the branch as a walking stick.

         “Alright,” Nielsen says. “I’ve got the ring the dark elves left behind. You’re all going to need to huddle close and stop talking, or we’re all going to be seen. Everybody, grab the hands of the person next to you, and we’ll walk.”

         I nod, reaching out to Beth and Aldor, but Beth refuses my hand, walking away toward Nielsen. I grab Pierce’s hand, and we all form a line. As I grip Aldor’s hand, I feel warmth enveloping me, a jolt of excitement running down my spine. He flashes me a cocky smile, exposing his bright white teeth, and I feel myself blushing.

         If only, I think.

         I know he mostly sees me as the kid of the group, but there’s something empowering about the way he looks at me. His past is a mystery to me. And the thought that he comes from another world, completely different from what I know, entices me. 

         “Remember your stealth training,” Nielsen says as he slips on the ring. “Try to move with the winds. If you’re in the open and exposed, duck for cover and hide your breathing.”

         And we all become invisible, marching toward a common goal.

         Today, we’re going to liberate the human subjects, and we’re going to topple the towers, letting the dark elves know once and for all that they aren’t welcome here. If we can’t free the prisoners, we’re detonating a bomb on the top floor—an arcane device left behind in elven raids. 

I’ve always found it sad that the only way we can fight the dark elves is with their mistakes. 

Sometimes, it feels like the idea of delivering justice is my only remaining motivation… for my mother, for my father, for my brother, and most recently, for Ket.

At first, I struggle to keep pace with the people leading my hands, being pulled slower by Pierce and faster by Aldor. It’s something that challenges all of us as a group, finding a common pace without communicating out loud. Even the most silent whisper could give us all away, and then our mission would be compromised entirely.

Eventually, we find a compromise, ambling slowly through the icy fields toward our ominous demises, bleak towers, which on closer inspection, emanate a strange, sinister hum. By now, we are within earshot of the tall guards, with their black, inky eyes staring blankly and unwaveringly into the abyss.

I feel myself trembling, struggling to keep myself on my feet. And it’s not from the bitter chill.

It’s sheer terror, as I peer into their faces, and remember what they did within several feet of me. I can still hear the screams.

A strong gale blows through, and we walk. It dies down, and we stop.

The struggle now is in articulating how to get through the hollow door without alerting anyone.

Either they need to leave, or we need to distract them. But how do we do that without communicating?

The bright sun casts hues of gold, yellow, and orange across the glassy snow, a beautiful reminder that night will soon come to kill us if we don’t move. There are monsters that come in the night that I can’t begin to fathom, if the freeze doesn’t simply bury us.

That’s when Pierce, in an enormously stupid move, throws his walking cane with all his might. It clatters harmlessly several feet away.

“What in all the hells?”

One of the guards moves to investigate the disturbance, but the other is still unblinking, gazing out emotionlessly.

Suddenly, I feel myself pulled forward, guided through the narrow door by a line that has changed orientation. If the second guard hadn’t left even for a moment, we might not have gotten through the hole in the tower.

It looks just like home.

For how strange the towers were, the interior of the first floor is not unfamiliar. Shelves and shelves of books line the walls of the room, dark elves each reading to their heart’s contentment.

It’s hard to believe they’re torturing people here.

If they discover us, we won’t stand a chance. We each have crudely fashioned daggers. Some of us wield swords.

Dark elves have magic. They can send fire from their fingertips and scorch our bones. They can conjure winds and crush our bodies into the ceiling.

What’s more, there are no natural breezes indoors to cover the sound of our movements. If a dark elf perks his ears up and hears my jangling amulet or Pierce’s limp, we’re surely dead.

So we stride forward, seemingly one step every minute. I caress Aldor’s palm for reassurance, enjoying his warmth. The unassuming bookshelves pass slowly by us, the studious dark elves too busy to notice a staggered, barely audible series of steps.

We reach the black stone stairs built into this tower, and I can already hear the screams resonating from the floors above as we ascend. The second floor is lined with alchemy tables and littered with bones.

Thankfully, or perhaps forebodingly, there’s nobody on this floor right now, but a steady drip in the corner of the large room reveals a spout, dripping blood from the floor above into a strange device.

They’re draining the prisoners. Are we already too late?

I clench my jaw, thinking about what horrors we might find on the floor above.

We climb the next flight of stairs, unworried about alerting anybody here.

The third floor is a series of cells, filled with imprisoned humans. But terrifyingly, they all seemed to be hooked up by a smaller series of tubes inserted into their arms. These connect to one larger series of tubes, which stretch across the room and lower into the floor below.

This is our chance.

I don’t have time to take in the disturbing sight in front of me. People are slowly dying, and we can save them.

We just need to find the key and free the prisoners. Clearly, the elven guard monitoring the room is keeping it somewhere on his person.

That’s when I notice Beth, who has left the ring’s area, and is now running toward the elven guard.

“Beth!” Nielsen hisses under his breath. “What are you doing? Come back!”

I feel my eyes widen and realization slowly takes hold. 

She reaches the elven guard and points toward where we’re standing. He looks as if he was expecting us.

“Run,” Nielsen whispers.