Fire Heart (The Titans: Book One) (32 page)

“She and her Phoenix Guard fought the traitors, bringing ruination to the enemy's army in ways I cannot describe. And for a time it seemed she had the upper hand—but what she did not have was Davin. We should have known that the forces the traitors brought with them were little more than fodder. We should have known what they were planning. But we did not expect all seven of them to appear at Castle Phoenix.

“Talyn and her warriors fought valiantly. I...I watched the entire ordeal, powerless to stop it, just as I watched her die in Davin's arms four months later atop the Dragonskeep. And the more she fought, the weaker her self-control became. Power is a heady mix, after all, and she had drunk too much. The inner sanctum of Castle Phoenix is now little more than a cavern of cooled molten rock, a dead, silent testament to her fury. There are still traces of gold left from the armor of those Phoenix Guard who refused to leave her side. I hope their spirits have found peace.

“The traitors knew they could not beat her in a frontal assault, though, so they waited her out, toying with her and picking off her defenders until she finally gave in and, just as you almost did, lost herself. When that happened they struck quickly and without mercy. Adrift in the depths of her power, Talyn was unable to resist, and her soul was smothered beneath their will. We still do not know how they managed such an atrocity. And that was why Davin had to die, though he realized it before the rest of us did. One cannot live without the other. By the time she marched on the Dragonskeep, he already knew that the world's only hope was to await the birth of the new Dragon King and Phoenix Empress, uncorrupted by the Fallen. Had he not...killed himself, they would have subdued him and taken him to the Black Fortress forever. And they still would have had Talyn.” Serah's eyes glistened wetly, and Will looked away out of courtesy.

Silence settled upon the trio for a moment, and all three seemed lost in deep thought. “Who were the Fallen, exactly?” Will finally asked. “Before they became the Fallen, I mean.”

Serah's eyes took on a haunted look. “A fair question. They were once great men and women in their own right, revered councilors of the Dragon King. They advised the Titans in almost every matter, and we trusted them—foolishly. They coveted our immortality and our power too much. We should have seen it. Mortals are fickle, untrustworthy wretches.”

“All mortals?” Feothon asked quietly, and Serah's face fell as though she had been struck. “Even the Lord Commander?”

“No,” she murmured. “I...forgive me. I should not have said that.”

But Feothon only smiled at her. “Please, continue.”

Serah cleared her throat and, after a moment, began once again. “The traitors' former names are lost to history now, and I shall not repeat them. To give them human names would be to imply their own humanity, and that is something they gave up long ago. They have chosen to seclude themselves in their Black Fortress deep in the marshlands to the south, where they bide their time—though they are done biding, if current events are any indication.”

“Why haven't you gone and assaulted their stronghold?” Will asked. “I thought you said before that they were weakened when Talyn died.”

“They were,” Feothon answered. “But you must understand, Will—compared to the powers of Koutoum and Keth, the rest of us are little more than ants. Our abilities lie in creation; Keth's—and yours—lie in destruction. Creation is strong, but destruction will always, unfortunately, be stronger.”

Will looked away.
Destruction.
Was that all he was ever going to be good for?

“Will,” said Feothon, seeing his reaction, “'tis only a bad thing in the wrong hands. I can already feel the conflict between the light and the dark inside of you—all you need to do is learn to control yourself. We can teach you how. And...there is a little girl in this forest who you have a strong connection with.” He closed his eyes lightly, and his brow furrowed as though in deep concentration. “She loves you. To her, you are a good person.”

“Priscilla,” Will whispered.

“Yes. Her whole family, in fact.”

They were all three silent for a moment.

“So you think I can temper my violent side?” Will asked.

“You already have,” Serah said softly. Again they were enveloped in quiet, and after awhile Feothon motioned wordlessly for Serah to continue her story.

“When the Fallen bound their half of Keth's soul to their mortal bodies, they took new names: now they are Pestilence, Strife, Despair, Insanity, Fury, and Agony. Pestilence you have already met, and with your help we will destroy the rest. They are immortal like us, though by artificial means. I have not seen them for five hundred years, since they hid both their fortress and themselves from my windsight. It could be that they are horrifically decayed, little more than walking corpses, but still alive. Regardless, their power has only grown over the centuries, and each battle will only be more difficult than the last.”

“Wait,” said Will, “you said Pestilence, Strife, Despair, Insanity, Fury, and Agony. That's only six.”

“Ah, yes,” Serah breathed—and then she actually chuckled. “After the Great Fall, two wished to take the name 'Agony.' It is not surprising that the stronger of the two killed the weaker—we do, after all, call them the traitors for a reason. They are not known for their tolerance or their kindness.” She smirked. “Unfortunately, with each one that dies, those who remain become stronger. They can easily duel a Titan with an even chance of success. Except, of course, for Koutoum.” She grinned at Will. “They were never able to beat Davin or Talyn in battle, especially when the two were together.”

“And what about the new Phoenix Empress?” Will asked after a moment of hesitation. “If I'm really what you say, shouldn't there be somebody else you're looking for as well?”

“I...” Serah faltered. “There is. But I...cannot see her.”

“...What?” Will gaped, astounded. “What do you mean you can't see her?”

Though dark and unreadable, Will thought he detected in Serah's eyes a hint of...what was that? Uncertainty? Revelation? He could not be sure. “I mean that she is blocked from my windsight,” Serah said. “As I told you before: where the wind blows, I can see. But I cannot see her, just as I could not see the yaru, or you, or...” She trailed off and left her sentence unfinished. A moment later she shook herself as though ridding her mind of an annoying thought. When next she spoke she closed her eyes, her face a mask of concentration. “I cannot feel even the slightest emanation of her aura. I can always feel my brothers and sisters, even if only as a faint tickle in the back of my mind, but in place of the Phoenix Empress there is...nothing. I felt your outburst in Brightstone. I should have been able to feel something from her by now. It is...most troubling.”

“Well, we have to find her,” Will said suddenly. “I mean, it's rather important, isn't it? We don't want
the traitors to get to her again, right?”

“Yes,” Serah mused, “but an idea has occurred to me recently. It may be that she did not come back at all. Koutoum may have thrust his entire soul into you, Will.” She stared at him. “The thought frightens me beyond measure. Of course, it could also be that this is some trickery from the traitors, or even that Talyn masked her half of the soul before sending it back to the realm of the living.” She shrugged, suddenly looking very old. “I do not know, unfortunately. This riddle is maddening. If only I could find its answer...”

An idea suddenly occurred to Will. “Would...would I know? If I met her, I mean—would I know who she was?”

Serah looked at him thoughtfully, but did not respond.

“You said she was the other half of my soul, after all. It would make sense that I would at least feel something, right?”

“Yes,” Serah assented, “you would. In theory, at least. It would feel like you are complete. That was how Davin always described it to me.” She smiled softly at the memory. “When he was with her, he felt whole, and when he was away, it was like he had been ripped in two. They loved each other very much.”

But Will barely heard her. An image of Clare flashed to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly he found it very difficult to breathe. Could it be? Was she the one? It felt so wonderful to be around her, so beautiful. She made him feel...

Whole.

“Is something wrong, Will?” Feothon asked, looking at him pointedly.

“No—no, I'm fine.” Will shook his head. Then, another thought occurred to him. “Would she have awakened at the same time as me?”

“Not necessarily,” Serah said. “We all awaken at different times in our lives. It really is more a matter of necessity than of anything else. For that reason we cannot predict when a new Titan will awaken. It makes collecting them somewhat nerve-wracking.”

“How so?”

“Close your eyes, Will,” said Feothon, and he obeyed. “Tell me what you see.”

“I don't see anyth—wait.” He paused. “I see...green. And grey. Two big clouds. They're swirling...like mist.” He opened his eyes again and realization dawned on him. “I'm seeing you, aren't I?”

Feothon nodded. “Our auras. 'Tis how we are able to find one another. 'Tis also how both Serah and Pestilence were able to find you so easily. An aura is essentially a physical manifestation of the energy that constantly bleeds from us. Human bodies were never meant to house the souls of the Titans. The power inside us is difficult to contain.”

“Do we ever run out?”

Feothon chuckled. “No. The Titans get their power directly from the Void, which is unending. Our power will never run out, so long as the Void continues to exist. But back to your original question—before we awaken, our auras are much, much weaker. So weak, in fact, that they are almost undetectable. Yours, of course, in its unawakened state was very much like ours are now. You should see yourself through our eyes—when I close mine, 'tis like staring into a bonfire. But you can see how this presents a problem for the other Titans—when their auras are so weak that we cannot detect them, they run the risk of an untimely death. So when a Titan awakens 'tis always a mad dash to get to him or her before anything...unpleasant does.”

Will nodded. “That makes sense.” He looked from Serah to Feothon, and back again. “So I take it you weren't the same age as me when you awakened, then?”

“I was seventeen,” said Serah.

“Nine,” said Feothon. He smiled softly and winked. “So you see, I have
never
had the chance to lead a normal life.”

Will shook his head slowly. “Then why am I just now awakening?” he wondered aloud. “It doesn't make sense. I've been on the battlefield for twenty years. I could have died at any moment. So why
now?”

“I've no idea, Will,” Feothon said. “Perhaps there was a plan for you all along. Perhaps this has all been part of some elaborate scheme to keep the traitors away from you until you were ready.” He gestured vaguely at Will. “If that is the case, it certainly worked. Before she left to find you, Serah told me of your skill with a sword. I should very much like to watch a performance first-hand sometime.”

Will huffed a small laugh. “Be careful what you wish for. It looks like you may get to see one sooner rather than later.”

Feothon smiled, but said nothing.

When the silence had stretched to uncomfortable lengths, Will said, “So...how long will it be until Clare is better?”

“Her injuries are very grave,” Feothon said, but his tone was thoughtful rather than somber. “I would say roughly three days. If she is not awake by then, she soon will be.”

Will nodded. “Alright. So it's going to be awhile.”

Feothon laughed. “Will, you must relax. The only person in pain right now is you. She is going to be fine.” Will did not see it, but a knowing look passed briefly between Feothon and Serah. Serah raised a questioning eyebrow and nodded toward Will, but Feothon gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“So do all the Belahan...er, Fallen look like Pestilence?” Will asked, changing the subject abruptly, and the sudden switch seemed to take both Feothon and Serah aback.

“I...no, they do not,” Serah said. “At least, they did not used to. I cannot imagine they do now. Pestilence had changed much since last I saw him, so I honestly do not know what the others will look like.” She stopped suddenly, a thoughtful expression drifting across her features. “The implications of that are...disturbing. They could look like anyone.” She turned to Feothon. “When Will first encountered Pestilence, he had taken the form of a small boy, and later a massive yaru. When I saw him in Prado he was dressed all in black robes.”

“He looked like the Harbinger,” Will said. When both Titans gave him blank stares he cocked an eyebrow. “You people really have been out of contact, haven't you?”

“I am afraid so,” Feothon said slowly. “Especially with your Lower Kingdoms. They are rather inhospitable places for anyone not from the South or the West.”

“Ah. Well, the Harbinger. He's Gefan's polar opposite. I thought Pestilence's appearance came from the Harbinger, but now I think it may have been the other way around.”

“Ah, yes,” Serah said. “Gefan. The god that everyone bows to now.”

“A single god?” Feothon asked, cocking an eyebrow. “They truly believe that? How would one god be able to get anything done? 'Tis a ridiculous notion if ever I heard one.” He began to laugh.