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To become a god? That was ridiculous.
Sazantos looked across the icy battlefield of disfigured corpses. The stand to defend Flamesgrace Cathedral had been gruesome. Thank the Flame, most of the deceased belonged to the enemy: a horde of horrible monsters created by the Black Scarlet. But there were Knights Ardante among the fallen as well, and the white snow was stained red.
It was unforgivable. Sazantos didn’t have many people – if any – he could call friends, but those knights belonged to the same order as him. And his failure as the Flameguard was the reason they had met with such a fate.
Rondo was standing among the surviving knights, shaken but still on his feet and holding a sword. He looked at the carnage around them, then to Sazantos for instructions, as he always did. What now? Rondo’s pleading expression asked.
Sazantos turned his back to him. The flame inside him was howling.
“Take care of things here, Rondo.”
“Sir Sazantos!? Where are you going?”
“To see this god of theirs.”
With no room for distractions, Sazantos left the stained snow behind him and marched towards the cathedral.
Their investigation of the missing townspeople in Emberglow had led them to Father Monaris, yet the real leader of the Black Scarlet was still shrouded in shadow. But not for long. Sazantos knew the battle had been a diversion and that the true mastermind was after something else. He had been purposefully playing into their hands in order to lure out this so-called god. Whatever may come, Sazantos wouldn’t let them escape.
The cathedral was empty after the Pontiff’s assassination attempt, except for Father Taigan who was kneeling next to the altar. His life didn’t appear to be in immediate danger, and he lifted up his head as soon as he saw Sazantos.
“Hurry now. Beneath that dais,” Taigan gestured.
“A secret passageway...” Sazantos muttered as he looked at the displaced dais.
So many secrets within the church. None of them leading to good things.
Keep your wits about yourself, Rondo, Sazantos sent a silent command to his apprentice. He would have to gather himself without Sazantos’s handholding. Captain Hugo was out there too and despite Hugo’s shortcomings, he was at least trustworthy. And even if not, outside was the safest place right now.
The blue flame was meant to illuminate all, no matter how dense the darkness. Sazantos lit up a small flame on his palm and began descending the stairs.
The stairway dived deep underground and was lit up sparsely with only a few lanterns. It clearly wasn’t meant for public use but was privy to only those who knew of its existence. Sazantos could see a faint blue glow ahead, the same color as the flame in his palm. It was as he had suspected. The stairs led into a long chamber with an altar at the other end. Four candles with blue flames surrounded the altar with the church’s most treasured artefact: the Lanthorn.
And in front of the altar stood a hooded figure.
Sazantos touched the pommel of his sword and considered his options. He had taken a blow to his left arm during the battle, and the numbness was starting to turn into pain. The pain itself was no issue, but it meant his blocking and parrying was weaker. He was alone and without backup.
But he was the Flameguard. There were none who could stand in his way, not even a false god.
“So... we finally meet,” Sazantos announced his presence.
The figure turned around, their face obscured under the hood, and said nothing.
“Our investigation led us to Atlasdam’s special archives. In there, we found a book titled The Accursed Night and learned some intriguing facts,” Sazantos spoke as he walked across the chamber. “As of the present day, it has been eighteen years since the last Kindling. The Flame’s power is waning once more. Your aim is to take the Lanthorn and use it to steal the First Flame.”
Sazantos stopped before the steps leading to the altar. He hated to admit it, but he was almost impressed by the mastermind’s cunning. “You have been waiting for a long time to execute your plan, have you not?”
“Hmph. Well done,” a female voice spoke under the hood. “I’m impressed you pieced that much together.”
A woman? So, it wasn’t any of the priests Sazantos had suspected earlier. No matter – anyone who plotted against the Flame would face its wrath. This woman was extremely dangerous and could not be allowed to get any further. Sazantos unsheathed his sword and imbued it with his flame.
“You will not escape!” Sazantos shouted and charged at her.
One well-aimed strike should be enough to subdue her for questioning. Even if she hid weapons under her cloak, she was already too late to block his attack. Sazantos swung his sword...
And missed.
A flash of purple blinded his vision momentarily. Then a terrifying power surged through his body and suffocated his flame’s roar as if it was nothing. His sword clattered to the floor.
“Kneel before me,” the woman commanded.
Sazantos grunted and was forced to drop to his knees.
“Im... possible...”
Something glimmered in her hand. A divine ring, of course–! That was the only explanation to how she could have thwarted his attack. Sazantos tried to stand, but his body refused to obey. His muscles seized and every shred of power had been drained out of him. He could only watch the woman raised her hand, as if preparing to execute him.
“The dark flame consumes all,” the woman spoke, and Sazantos knew he had made a grievous mistake. Now, he would pay for it with his life.
“Flameguard, sir!” a familiar voice shouted through the darkness. “Hhyuaaargh!”
Another flash of purple and Sazantos’s vision was filled with white. Someone wearing a white cloak was standing in front of him, with his sword raised and angled sideways to block.
“Rondo?”
“Nngh... Are you unharmed, sir? Can you stand?” Rondo’s voice sounded strained.
Sazantos couldn’t fathom how or why Rondo was there, but he was. Playing the hero, which didn’t suit greenhorns like him. Taking the blow which was meant for him.
“How chivalrous. Almost endearing,” the woman said and raised her hand again. Wisps of purple smoke curled around her wrist. “Is that how badly you want to perish?”
Dark flames blazed forth, and this time Rondo couldn’t block it. He was engulfed by the unholy fire and screamed-- such a horrifying scream which shook the very core of Sazantos’s being.
The flames vanished. For one fleeting moment, Rondo stood there, as if suspended by invisible strings. Then the strings were cut and he crumpled to the ground.
“Rondo, you idiot...!”
Sazantos caught him barely in time before he hit the floor. Rondo was gasping for air and clearly in pain. What had the dark flame done to him? Hurriedly, Sazantos reached forward with his healing magic. Rondo didn’t appear to be physically harmed, but his lifeforce was flickering like a candle in the wind, in danger of being snuffed out completely. Sazantos’s hand trembled. He was still reeling from the previous attack and his magic was clumsy, unable to properly stabilize Rondo.
The woman watched the show unfolding before her with an amused smile. Then, she lowered the hood and revealed the familiar face of a female cleric.
“It can’t be...” Rondo groaned in Sazantos’s arms. “Phina? But why...?”
It was like some kind of sick joke. She had been there, the whole time, watching their investigation and taking him for a fool. The woman scoffed at them.
“My name is Ceraphina. I will pass judgement on this world and the foolish humans that reside in it,” she announced. “Starting with you two. Both of you are obviously unworthy of wielding the flame.” Ceraphina looked at Rondo. “Well, at least he had potential, displaying such theatrical heroics while his mentor was chasing shadows, unable to see what was right in front of him. Besides, shouldn’t your roles be switched?”
“I didn’t – I wasn’t –” Sazantos tried but had nothing to counter her. Ceraphina’s words struck deep like a knife. “That divine ring. You’re truly trying to ascend into godhood?”
“Indeed.”
“You will never succeed! The Sacred Flame will repel you!”
“I have nothing more to say to you, worm.” Ceraphina turned her back on them and stepped towards the altar. “After all, you couldn’t even protect your apprentice. You are as consumed by greed and arrogance as everyone else.”
Ceraphina picked up the Lanthorn. Just like that, the most invaluable sacred relic of the church was stolen. The blue candles around the altar snuffed out immediately, as were the last shreds of Sazantos’s conviction. He had failed. He had utterly failed in his task, and worse.
“No... Wait...” Sazantos pleaded, realizing how absolutely pathetic he sounded.
Ceraphina walked out of the chamber without looking back.
She’s heading to the Cave of Origin, Sazantos thought furiously. I must stop her! She cannot be allowed to steal the First Flame!
Rondo groaned in his arms. Sazantos could sense his lifeforce dimming.
“Go a-after her, sir...” Rondo muttered without opening his eyes.
“I...”
Sazantos stood at a crossroads. His decision could change the entire course of history. Being the Flameguard meant his life was devoted to protecting the Sacred Flame – that came before anything else. If Ceraphina seized the First Flame, she could plunge the entire continent into darkness. Wielding the blue flame against her was Sazantos’s duty. He had not been chosen by Aelfric’s ring, but finally there was a reason for his existence: a divine ring fallen into the wrong hands, an evil to be purged!
And yet...
“No,” Sazantos decided, even if his sense of duty was internally screaming. “Captain Hugo will go. Your condition is dire, Rondo. I must attempt to heal you, before...”
Before it’s too late.
After brief instructions to the Knights Ardante, Sazantos shut himself and Rondo into a small unoccupied room. Rondo was barely conscious or aware of his surroundings, mostly groaning in pain. Sazantos sat by his bed and did his best to keep him alive. Rondo’s body was oversaturated by a foreign magic Sazantos had never witnessed or experienced before. The Accurst Flame... Even being scraped by Ceraphina’s attack had felt like falling into a bottomless abyss, or being submerged under an ocean and suffocated by its crushing weight. And Rondo had taken the full blow of it.
Stupid, reckless mistake. He should have stayed outside as Sazantos ordered!
Hours passed. Rondo’s condition stabilized, but didn’t improve. The night felt endless.
“I have returned,” Hugo’s voice came from the door. “How is he?”
“Still alive,” Sazantos replied stiffly. He tried not to look at Rondo. “What of Ceraphina?”
“We followed her to the Cave of Origin. You were right, she stole the First Flame. We were unable to apprehend her as she disappeared into a portal.”
“I told you not to engage her. She is dangerous.” Sazantos sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. All these years, and Captain Hugo still didn’t listen to him. “But it seems you didn’t suffer any casualties so it’s... fine. We’ll pursue her later. I believe I know where she is headed.”
“Take care of your apprentice first. And yourself. You sound like you’ve been to the gates of hell.” The door creaked, but didn’t completely close. “Sazantos... you made the right choice.”
With a soft thud, they were alone in the room again.
Sazantos turned his attention back to Rondo. Using his own flame, he had purged as much of the dark flame as possible. But the last tendrils had slithered deeper, beyond his reach. It was up to Rondo to fight his way out of their tangled web.
“S-Sir Sazantos...” Rondo muttered on the edge of unconsciousness.
His fever was rising again. Sazantos cast another healing spell, useless in anything else but keeping Rondo’s condition a little more tolerable. The candle within him was flickering against the dark flame’s corruption. Sazantos now recognized what it was: an ember of the blue flame. He had always been under the impression that the flame had to be inherited, either from the previous Flameguard or through blood. Where had Rondo’s come from?
Perhaps Sazantos had witnessed its kindling when Rondo protected his sister and raised a blade against the bandits. And the few words of encouragement Sazantos bestowed upon him had been enough to spur Rondo into becoming a Knight Ardante. Careless words, indeed. Had he remained silent, perhaps the overeager boy would have never ended up in this situation.
A tiresome nuisance, a disappointment, a hindrance. That was how Sazantos had described Rondo to others, and sometimes directly to his face. And now his flame was dying and there was nothing he could do.
“Bright-eyed greenhorns shouldn’t be at the front lines,” Sazantos spoke quietly. “Your ember might be extinguished before it has a chance to become a flame. And even if you survive, the world you’re striving for doesn’t exist. Your eyes, too, will dim.”
Rondo groaned in his sleep, as if to disagree with him.
“If you survive this, you will--”
Return home? Stop being a knight? Was that how Sazantos expressed his gratitude? Even if Rondo was the one fighting for his life, Sazantos could feel his own flame struggling as well. What did it mean to be a Flameguard? What was it that he fought for?
Rondo had not hesitated when he jumped in front of his sister, or Sazantos.
Ceraphina was right. It should be me lying there.
What worth is there in protecting the Flame if there isn’t anyone left behind?
“No. You will survive,” Sazantos decided. “Do you hear me, Rondo? That’s an order.”
Sazantos placed his hand on Rondo’s chest. He reached forward with his magic again and acting as a kindling, fueled the tiny ember within. It might not be strong enough to ignite into a flame yet, but it mustn’t be allowed to die out. The world was a cruel and unjust place, which swallowed and spit out men as hollowed carcasses.
But maybe, just maybe... this one might be able to emerge untainted.
The world returned slowly to Rondo’s senses. At first there was only heavy darkness, a chasm so deep there wasn’t a faintest glimmer of light. He was so cold, but at the same time burning while the horrific dark flame ate away his flesh. Sir Sazantos must have gone after Ceraphina, as he should have, and left Rondo behind to deal with his stupid mistake...
But then Rondo heard a voice from above and saw a familiar glow of the azure light, barely visible in the impenetrable darkness. He desperately reached towards it. The light slipped from between his fingers and Rondo groaned in frustration. If he failed to grasp it, he would never find his way out.
You will never catch up to him, the darkness taunted. You were never meant for greatness. You are just a nuisance, a disappointment, a hindrance.
Why was he chasing after a man who clearly didn’t want him to follow?
What was it that he fought for?
“Because I wanted to become like you,” Rondo answered, even if Sazantos couldn’t hear him. Ever since that fateful day, he had been reaching for the azure light, always failing. Chasing after the white-cloaked back, always turned away from him. “But I don’t know if I can do it...”
The darkness smiled in agreement. Perhaps there were alternative routes to attain strength and rise to the top, to erase all those who threatened him and keep his loved ones safe... no, Rondo refused to consider it. He would rather perish if that was the only option left.
“Stop that kind of talk. You will survive. Do you hear me, Rondo? That’s an order,” the imaginary Sazantos in his mind said. Rondo chuckled a little. Yes, it sounded exactly like something he would say. And the azure light felt exactly like his flame...
Calmed by his presence, real or not, Rondo listened to Sazantos’s voice. He tried again, and this time caught the light. Gentle warmth enveloped him and chased away both the frigid cold and the consuming heat. What was left was serenity, safety, stillness. He was no longer burning, but pleasantly warm. Rondo could feel himself sinking deeper, but not into a deep chasm. It was something... soft? A bed?
Rondo opened his eyes. He was indeed lying in a bed, and next to the bed was...
“Sir Sazantos?”
Sazantos was sitting in a chair, arms crossed over his chest and his head drooping a little too much to have been merely deep in meditation. Rondo hadn’t known it was possible, but apparently the Flameguard was able to sleep while sitting upright.
“Sir...?” Rondo repeated.
Sazantos startled, blinked a few times and then looked at him. Rondo had never seen him so unguarded.
“You’re awake,” Sazantos breathed out. “I mean, of course you are. Took you long enough.” Sazantos steeled his expression back to his usual frown. “What were you thinking following me? I specifically ordered you to stay outside!”
“Sorry, sir, I was only--” Rondo thought back to the panic of seeing Sazantos kneeling before the hooded figure, inches away from death. “There had already been one assassination attempt, and you went to the cathedral alone, and Father Taigan told me about the underground passageway, and... I was worried, sir! You shouldn’t have faced such a threat without any backup!”
“So you came to my aid. Alone. Despite all those more experienced knights around you.”
“Well, yes. I’m your apprentice, I’m supposed to be following you. But enough about me!” Rondo scrambled to sit up on the bed. “What happened to Ceraphina? Did you catch her?”
Sazantos looked away from him, his face unmoving.
“Then, the First Flame...?” Rondo pressed, and the deepening frown on Sazantos’s face told him the answer. “Did you fight her? Were you injured, sir?”
“No,” Sazantos huffed. “Captain Hugo chased after her, but she got away. No knights were injured.”
Rondo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It sounded like Sazantos hadn’t given chase at all, but stayed at his side the whole time. That didn’t make any sense, did it?
“You almost died, Rondo,” Sazantos suddenly said before Rondo could gather his thoughts. “Don’t ever repeat that stunt again. I am your mentor. I am supposed to take the hits while you’re still learning. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“We have a long way ahead of us to catch up to her. So get back on your feet, and quickly. We must not allow Ceraphina to execute her absurd plans of becoming a god.”
Rondo’s eyes lit up. Sazantos hadn’t turned his back on him, after all. He still had a chance to prove himself! And to keep his sour-faced mentor from rushing into danger alone, if he just got strong enough.
“Yes, sir! I’ll do my best to– ow, owww...” Rondo tried to get up and his head hurt from the sudden movement. Sazantos pushed him firmly back to the bed.
“Not that quickly. Honestly, do I have to spell out everything for you?”
Rondo caught a hint of a smile on Sazantos’s face. That was a rare sight. There was a new thread of trust between them, fragile perhaps, but it was there. Just as Rondo was about to reply something funny, a low rumbling sound echoed in the room.
Did... did the illustrious Flameguard’s stomach just rumble from hunger? Rondo snapped his mouth shut. Their temporary peace was too fragile for that comment.
“I trust you won’t try anything idiotic while I’ll fetch us food?” Sazantos asked, not waiting for an answer as he got up. “Good. Stay here. I mean it this time.”
Sazantos hurried out of the room and slammed the door shut in embarrassment. Rondo grinned. His mentor truly was a handful at times, but he supposed that applied to them both. Whatever they faced, Rondo was certain they could overcome it together.
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