《Blades of the Flameborn》


 Prologue: Blessing of the Flame

    Prologue


    A goddess¡¯ blessing


    The revels of Imbloom had come to a close in Kilcara. The festival fell in early springtime and marked the transition into the season of creation. The ewes in the pasture were swollen with lambs soon to be born, and the buds were beginning to defrost in the small gardens and in the fields.


    It was during this celebration of life that a couple knelt by their hearth to pray.


    The couple had a purpose for their pleading prayer. Upon realizing that Imbloom had coincided with the moon - her phase as full as the ewes in the pastures. Gowan, a blacksmith, and his wife Morna knew this was the moment to pray. To hope.


    Thus, they knelt at their hearth, before the bright flame invoking the goddess Brigid. Their hearth and home was full of love and joy but was missing the tender touch of a newborn¡¯s skin, and the laughter of a young child playing in their fields. Their purpose on this day was to ask the goddess Brigid, the keeper of fertility, healing, and the fire of creation, for a blessing - the blessing of a child. Gowan and Morna desperately longed to fill their home and hearts with children of their own. However, years of trying had led to desperation and a hollowed feeling.


    With shaking fingers, Morna lit the candle atop the hearth mantle and whispered into the crisp air filling their cottage, ¡°Brigid, I invoke thee to answer my prayer, my plea to bless us with life. We vow that this child will be loved beyond all measure and we will continue to bless the gods and goddesses, to revere this earth.¡±


    Gowan, with his calloused hands clenched at his sides, quietly added, ¡°We ask for no glory or riches, but a child to carry our line.¡±


    There was an unearthly hum in the air. Morna looked to Gowan, whose jaw was clenched, and knew that he also heard and felt it. The flame atop the mantle began to grow and an ethereal wind blew the harmonious voice of a woman into their home.


    ¡°I have been watching your family, Morna and Gowan. I seldom view the creations of your smithwork for the sound of the hammer against an anvil calls to me. This night, I may give you this blessing. However, my sweet mortals, all blessings must come with a sacrifice - a condition.¡±


    Morna swallowed hard and looked to Gowan, who replied with a curt nod, giving her the confirmation she needed.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°We will humbly accept this sacrifice, this condition that you speak of. Will you tell us what this sacrifice entails?¡±


    The harmonious voice filled the room and before Morna and Gowan, a beautiful woman with luminous features, took shape. Her face appeared gentle, kind, and nurturing. The face that every child wishes to see looking down at them. However, her expression turned to that of worry and concern.


    With furrowed brows, the goddess whispered, ¡°A shadow of discord is beginning to grow among your people. They forget and shun the old gods who hold the balance of the earth, of existence. They no longer live in the balance of light and dark. Destruction is exceeding creation. There will come a time when this imbalance will need to be tended to. The condition I present to you is that this child will bear my Eternal Flame. The incandescent flame of healing, creation, and life will come with great responsibility. Their flame will restore the balance or destroy the realm. Guard them well and teach the ways of old. ¡°


    Brigid¡¯s stare fixed on the couple and asked, ¡°Do you accept this - this condition to have the child you long for?¡±


    Morna, holding her breath, turned to face Gowan with pleading eyes. Gowan looked into his wife¡¯s gaze and smiled gently, tightening his grip on her shoulder. Morna released her breath, an inhale of relief, and turned to Brigid. ¡°We accept this condition. I promise to teach her the ways of old, to honor and revere the earth and the gods and goddesses who protect it. Together, we will make sure she will be prepared to aid the realm.¡±


    Brigid¡¯s expression of ambivalence gave the couple a tight smile and placed her glowing hands upon Morna. The touch was warm and loving as she whispered, ¡°Then it is done.¡±


    Brigid¡¯s figure retreated into the flame radiating from the candle on the mantle above their hearth. The air seemed to be heavier, lingering with the presence of the goddess that had just blessed them.


    Months later, Morna gave birth to a baby girl, naming her Fia or ¡°Flame¡± to honor the gift given to the couple and the fire that now dwelled within the young child.


    As Fia grew, she became a spirited child whom the villagers deemed as ¡®wild¡¯. She who would make beautiful crafts from anything. A girl with a gentle grace for caring for her sick neighbors in the village. And to people¡¯s astonishment, she became a girl who blazed with a fierce temperament that had the other children fleeing from any conflict.


    Yet the words of Brigid rang true. As years went by, the old gods were forgotten. The festivals honoring the earth''s rhythms became fewer, corruption entered the kingdom, and discord spread through the land. A shadow lingered over the realm. Even the couple that were blessed by the gods themselves began to forget. Gowan and Morna forgot their promise, the sacrifice, and the responsibility their daughter had been burdened with.


    Unaware to Fia, her flame was not simply a blessing but an obligation to the realm. Inevitably, her fate is to be the one to forge the blade necessary to bring forth balance to repair the kingdom and existence itself or further doom it. However, she was born with the strength and will of a thousand suns, and a burning passion that would never cease - never.

 Ch 1: Hollow

    Where has my flame gone? Fia wondered to herself with a heavy sigh as she walked along the cobblestone streets of Calemoor. I used to feel so alive, but now I feel like I am just surviving¡­ barely.


    At this point, survival was the main goal of Fia¡¯s family. It was often mentioned and talked about, especially by her father who had grown bitter since moving to the capital of Calemoor.


    Her father had become quite unpleasant and resentful after the accident that occurred two years ago while pouring molten metal into a breastplate mold for a king''s guard. A misstep caused the liquid to splash on his right hand, searing flesh and nerves. The burns left permanent scarring and robbed him of full mobility. At times it was hard to watch him even try and eat.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Fia walked along the crowded city streets heading to the market toward her family¡¯s stand. After the accident, her father could no longer engage in his beloved craft of forging and opted to sell the textiles and blankets Fia and her mother weaved. That was why they moved from their quaint, cherished village of Kilcara and into the kingdom¡¯s capital to be closer to the trade market.


    Calemoor. A city full of people trying to survive as of late. Fia often felt like she was drowning among these people just trying to ensure a hot meal would be on the table that night. Fia sneered at the coincidence of feeling like she was drowning among these people while contemplating the hollow void in her chest and soul, where a fiery fervor used to dwell.