Chapter 4: A Story from the Mines

Temujin’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” Aki asked.  

“They had to extinguish all sources of light within a hundred yards of me or else I’ll be able to manipulate them.”

It dawned on Aki that that was indeed the reason the usual sputtering torches had all disappeared, swathing most of the prison in darkness.

“I see,” she said. “My apologies.”  

“Why? Why do you apologize? It’s not your doing, is it?”

“It’s common courtesy,” she reasoned matter-of-factly, “to express sympathy for another person’s discomfort.”  

“Well, I think you apologize too much.”

She ignored that, fearing another outburst from him.

“Can’t you generate fire from within you?” she asked. “With your ki?”

“Fire can never be created by man. It can only be borrowed. We, of the Vulcanus Clan, are direct descendants of the god Homusubi, who gave the gift of fire to all mankind.”

“I know that story. My mom used to tell it to me when I was a child.”

“Well, I’m sure your mom forgot to mention how Izanagi, the creator god, punished Homusubi for it.”

“I am not aware of it,” Aki admitted, because it wasn’t in the nature of a Stork to lie.

“He did. He had Homusubi chained to a rock, where a giant eagle tormented him day and night.”

Aki chose to remain silent. She had an inkling that the red Slayer was aiming for shock value and that he somehow felt pleasure at her discomfort. The young man’s way of thinking was all very new to her.

“And he punished mankind too by giving to them Pandor…”

“What do you know about the threat to the Egg?” Aki blurted out.

Temujin was quiet. When he spoke again, it was with a haunted tone:

“I heard talk about it in the volcanic mines. You hear talk about everything down there, where children too young to defend themselves are forced to work for scraps. Like I said, we spend most of our youth not seeing the light of day, not knowing any games or playthings except by using our imagination, by listening to stories around the campfire and embellishing them, making them more palatable, then passing them on to the other kids through the complex network of tunnels stretching as far as the eyes can see – or can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Aki said sincerely. “I did not know the volcanic mines were like that.”  

“Oh, it’s just… life,” Temujin answered, deep in thought. “And the darkness can be your friend if you want it to be. It holds no hidden dangers to you. It’s clean and simple. Like a thick blanket over all your senses. And fire… well, fire is the greatest luxury the gifted of us can afford. It’s useful and it purifies our meat. When we have fire, especially during winter, life is good.

“I myself was sold into slavery by my parents. I never knew who they were. The only connection I have to them is a little pendant that has hung around my neck ever since I was an infant. I was brought up in the darkness of the mines. It was the laborers who taught me how to speak and how to walk.

“We live in and around the volcanoes because of the hot springs and the forges. With the latter, we fashion great works of beauty: rings of ruby, necklaces of silver, earrings of diamond. Most of them reach the heights of your Ethereal Nest because the Clan of Stork is our biggest trade partner in peace-time.”

Aki chose not to answer although she knew countless jewels and gemstones in the Treasure Vault and on their very persons indeed came from the depths of the volcanic mines.

“We fashion not only things of beauty but also instruments of destruction,” Temujin continued. “Blades, arrowheads, siege-engines; and it’s not with a small amount of irony that some of our very creations come back to haunt us. Still, it’s a universal truth that, in all four corners of Pan-Terra, the metalcraft of the Clan of Vulcanus is unparalleled.

“We dig – without cease, without rest. Deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth. And in the same way the Floating Bridges of Heaven reached too high, we reached too low. We might’ve dug all the way to Yomi, dominion of Izanami. We knew because it was as though we had awakened something.”

The quiet that followed was chilling.

“Something?” Aki whispered in the gap. “What was it?”  

“An ancient fire demon.”

Aki held her breath. The precise word Temujin used was “hiyasha” which meant demon in both High and Lowland languages. They were mythical beings. Boogeymen taught by parents to scare their children. If the feats of the gods Ame-no-Minakanushi, Izanagi, Homusubi and so on were considered religious and sacred, especially by the Highlanders, the superstitions about yashas and other evil spirits were impure and pagan. For purely entertainment value.

Or were they?

“Yashas are not real,” Aki said but even as she did, her voice didn’t carry absolute conviction.

“That’s what I thought as well. At first. Only if they weren’t, how could anyone work for one?” 

“What do you mean?”

“The hiyasha was in possession of a lump of the hardest mineral, Adamantine, also known as…”

“Heaven’s Metal,” Aki softly finished Temujin’s sentence.

“Precisely. A den of Nagas had made a trade with the hiyasha in return for more Adamantine.”

Nagas were yet another stuff of legend. The name referred to a breed of reptilian humanoid creatures, very tall and lithe and exhibiting a sort of savage ferocity in battle. But Aki knew from personal experience that there was truth in the rumors about the monster warriors.

“A trade?” she echoed. “Why would they do that?”  

“Because Adamantine is the only thing on the planet that can break the shell of the Dragon God’s Egg.”

Aki was dumbfounded. Myth and reality converged at this point, blended, and blurred. She even remembered her late father telling her stories about how the Egg had been slipped into a second layer of the unbreakable crystal. Inside, the Adamantine case employed tesseract magick, which shrank the Egg down into a more manageable size; into the size of a pendant, to be exact.   

“You said a den of Nagas made a trade. From which clan were they?”

Before Temujin could answer, the prison block was flooded with blinding light.

×

The guards held up Everlite crystals, their light-blue glow bathing the dungeon. The rare minerals were capable of temporary fluorescence and were used as alternative sources of light, from way back when the Clan of Vulcanus restricted the use of fire in torches.

These Everlite crystals, too, had been imported from the red Slayers, who had little use for them because of their natural fire-taming abilities.

The Ying-Yang Master was leading the party. He wore his long white official robe trimmed in gold.

“Aki-oujo!” the Master shouted. “This is no place for a princess!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Aki demanded even as her voice wavered.

The Imperial Guards had their swords drawn. Aki glanced sideways at Temujin. He was gritting his teeth between the bars of his cell, willing to bend or melt the iron even without his trademark flames. His eyes, as they reflected the flash of the Everlite crystals, glowed orange.

“There’s been an incident in the Treasure Vault,” the Master said.

Aki was shocked. “Is it the Egg? Has it gone missing?”

The Master refused to answer. Aki followed where his eyes were fixed.  

“It’s not his fault! He’s been in his cell the whole time. I can testify to that! He couldn’t have done it!”

“Take the princess back to her chambers!” the Master ordered and Aki was seized by a guard on either side.

She struggled for a while, even attempting to teleport herself free out of reflex. Her body appeared to flicker but her concentration wasn’t deep enough for such a technique.

“Take the prisoner out of his cell. He’ll tell the Emperor the truth or we’ll wring it out of him!”

“No,” Aki screamed. “Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears.