Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
World Fire Aftermath of Scars
When Locke came to, he found that he was in his dimly lit bedroom back at the Amber Hall. Bandages ran up and down his body, and there was woollen padding around his shoulder where he had been stabbed. It was night, but a candle burned softly on his desk, illuminating Kets in an orange light.She sat there, her head lolled off to one side, her eyes ever so slightly parted. Noticing movement, her eyes sprang to life, and focused on Locke.‘Locke, your awake, ya ha,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell Belvon Laire when I get the chance – he’s busy attending to Stocke.’‘No, wait,’ Locke said. It was difficult to talk, and a nauseating pain pulsed through his body. ‘Can you catch me up to speed? What happened? Why weren’t you, Trys and Arla with us in the Laire estate?’‘We were attacked enroute. One of the Coordinator’s actors blew up our mode of travel, and we were stranded.’ Kets reached forward, grabbed Locke’s hand and held it up to her. ‘The Laires, now without their mansion, and their daughter
World Fire The Fire that Burned the World
World Fire What am I to do?
Stocke, who healed unnaturally fast, regained consciousness the next day. Despite Belvon’s protests, he clawed his way up to his feet despite his dizziness and made to leave the room.‘Stocke, my boy,’ Belvon Laire said with his usual dramatic voice. ‘Lay down, rest, there is no good to come from rushing oneself.’‘Thank you, Belvon, but no. I’m in quite a bad mood, need some time to myself.’Stocke returned to his room, shut the door behind him, and stared out at the field outside. Flowers were blooming, the wind brushed at the grass, and the sun gleamed from the east. The weather mocked his foul mood.From the events surrounding the Laire mansion, he felt so utterly useless – and betrayed! He noticed the indecision in Locke’s posture and face. He saw how he had edged closer to hand Caria Laire over to Straza. But … was it really his right to be mad? Caria Laire had treated him so poorly back at the containment camp. She had aided Kelnaxx Laire in the cutting off his ears and tails.
World Fire The Opening of the First Act
The sand stretched to the horizon in every direction. Great dunes formed like waves in the sand sea. The sun beat down from the cloudless blue sky, creating waves of heat that reached a few metres above the sand. The place was devoid of detail, except for a column of sandy dust that worked its way between the dunes as it headed westward. A large, scaly beast charged through the column of dust. More than ten metres wide and thirty long. It was a triceratops, far larger than a normal one, and domesticated. Leather straps lined the body, holding a platform of wood and stone tight on top of its back. There was a crowd of people on this platform. One of them was at the front, wearing a pair of goggles, looking through a spyglass to navigate the sandy land in front of them. This man was Miles Rodger. He was a man of the Amber Army, a squadron of the Royal Army of Justisar that was dedicated to roaming the land and bringing peace. He hid his sleek black hair underneath a leather cap and twi
World Fire Fahrla and Locke
'Locke, can we go to the beach today? The wind is so pleasant, and the sun is warm, but not hot. It would be a waste not to go,' Fahrla said. 'Sure, let's go.' He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet. Fahrla was only a year younger than he was, but her figure was small and frail, the result of a girl that could never have a proper and regular diet. This poor health left her always in the tender care of Locke, who had to watch over her every step. Locke himself was only fourteen but had grown strong enough to carry her. Fahrla climbed onto his back and held onto his shoulders. 'Careful now,' he said, gently stepping down to the lower platforms and onto the streets of the slums. As they walked down the street, he waved to the familiars of the Arindel slums. There was Old Broom, the name everyone gave to the old man who always swept at the sandy street ways. People said that he never quite recovered from the shock of losing his wife, and now devoted his life to sweeping the
World Fire Straza
A shadow swished in the darkness in front of them, and with a slash of silver, a demented figure appeared, holding a scythe with one hand. Locke skidded to a stop, and Fahrla held onto his shoulders tight. The figure laughed at them. He wore a hooded cloak, and underneath the cloak, Locke could make out a skull. Bone knuckles flashed underneath the hem of his sleeve. Lightning and thunder crashed around them as the rain sunk into their rags and their skin. Danger! Locke's senses cried out at him. Whoever this person was, he was out here to bring harm. 'Danger, so he thinks.' The figure stretched out his bone hand and touched Locke's forehead. 'And danger, so she thinks.' He touched Fahrla's forehead. With a touch, Locke found that he could not move. Fear gripped at him, holding him tight. He felt Fahrla's delicate body shudder against his own, her breaths short and sharp, and her finger trembling against his shoulders where she held him. 'St-stay away!' Locke cried. The cries in th
World Fire Atop the Triceratops
When Locke came to, he found himself sitting on a rocking wooden platform on top of a massive triceratops as it made its way east. 'Hey, you're awake.' A girl he did not recognise smiled at him. Before he realised what was happening, she had handed him a bowl of rice and a fork. 'Eat up, eat up. Stag will want to speak to you, so eat up while you can. I'm Trys.' Trys had orange hair that fell to her shoulders. Eyes as green as moss and freckles that stretched across her face, she had the mien of a cheerful and jovial girl who let little bother her. 'I heard about what happened,' she said as she shovelled rice into her mouth. 'Really sucks, I hope you can find her again.' Locke could hardly make out what she was saying from all the rice in her mouth. He was still in that state between dream and reality, and he was struggling to remember what had happened. 'Where am I?' 'You're on top of Dorothy the triceratops. Come on, eat up. Or I'll eat it for you.' 'Who are you?' 'Huh, I alre
World Fire Travelling
It took Dorothy the triceratops three days to break free from the sweltering dunes of the Sandara desert. The desert shifted into a rocky landscape where smaller dinosaurs roamed alongside leagues of two-legged feathered birds that were as tall as a human. 'That's a Kalbuk,' Miles said, pointing to the feathered birds. 'They look goofy, but you definitely don't want to go toe-to-toe with one. Its beak is strong enough to break through metal, and its talon can cut through your gut with ease. Don't underestimate them.' In his free time, Locke had decided to spend his time at the front of the triceratops next to Miles so that he could learn more about the land outside of Arindel. Every so often Arla would run up to Miles, offer a few words in secret, at which point the two of them would look back at Stag, who waved at them with a smug smile on his face. 'He just does it to annoy me,' Miles said as Arla returned to Stag. 'He wants to know "how long?" every few hours. What would it take
Latest Chapter
- World Fire
What am I to do?
Stocke, who healed unnaturally fast, regained consciousness the next day. Despite Belvon’s protests, he clawed his way up to his feet despite his dizziness and made to leave the room.‘Stocke, my boy,’ Belvon Laire said with his usual dramatic voice. ‘Lay down, rest, there is no good to come from rushing oneself.’‘Thank you, Belvon, but no. I’m in quite a bad mood, need some time to myself.’Stocke returned to his room, shut the door behind him, and stared out at the field outside. Flowers were blooming, the wind brushed at the grass, and the sun gleamed from the east. The weather mocked his foul mood.From the events surrounding the Laire mansion, he felt so utterly useless – and betrayed! He noticed the indecision in Locke’s posture and face. He saw how he had edged closer to hand Caria Laire over to Straza. But … was it really his right to be mad? Caria Laire had treated him so poorly back at the containment camp. She had aided Kelnaxx Laire in the cutting off his ears and tails.
- World Fire
The Fire that Burned the World
- World Fire
Aftermath of Scars
When Locke came to, he found that he was in his dimly lit bedroom back at the Amber Hall. Bandages ran up and down his body, and there was woollen padding around his shoulder where he had been stabbed. It was night, but a candle burned softly on his desk, illuminating Kets in an orange light.She sat there, her head lolled off to one side, her eyes ever so slightly parted. Noticing movement, her eyes sprang to life, and focused on Locke.‘Locke, your awake, ya ha,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell Belvon Laire when I get the chance – he’s busy attending to Stocke.’‘No, wait,’ Locke said. It was difficult to talk, and a nauseating pain pulsed through his body. ‘Can you catch me up to speed? What happened? Why weren’t you, Trys and Arla with us in the Laire estate?’‘We were attacked enroute. One of the Coordinator’s actors blew up our mode of travel, and we were stranded.’ Kets reached forward, grabbed Locke’s hand and held it up to her. ‘The Laires, now without their mansion, and their daughter
- World Fire
Sun, Moon, Stars
Fahrla took a step forward, tearing off her veil and revealing that same hair and face that he had loved and cared for all these years. Bandages wrapped around her eyes, obscuring her vision entirely, and she had grown a little taller, too. But aside from that, there was no difference. She stretched out her hand.‘Locke, hand her over.’Locke took a step back. Caria Laire, barely conscious, stared at Fahrla and Straza with terror.‘I can’t, Fahrla. I can’t hand her over.’‘But he is just saying that.’ Straza let out a powerful laugh. ‘You want to save Fahrla, don’t you? You want to live a life of peace with Fahrla, right? Yes, he thinks. Yes, to both. Yet he wants to stop us from acquiring this girl, which is a key to our success, which would grant you that peaceful life.’‘What do you want her for?’ Locke shouted, taking another step back. I feel weak, Elandra, I can’t hold the fire anymore.
- World Fire
World Fire
Flames licked at the branch that Locke stood on. The fire gnawed through the wood, turning the rich brown to a crisp black, and it crumbled to charcoal just as Locke leapt from the branch and reached for another in the distant darkness. What is this power? Elandra – I don’t want this! I don’t want to burn everything! The throbbing pain of a stab wound pulsed in his shoulder.The fire blanketed the ground, growing more vicious and turmoil with each passing second. The smoke from earlier had collected into thick columns of grey that forced itself into his lungs, and Caria Laire was whimpering in pain in the darkness.He gripped at the new branch, but a single lick of flame connected to the tree and now stretched through from that spot.Elandra, I can’t hold the fire around me anymore.For the first time, Elandra’s voice was cruel and demented.
- World Fire
Great Actor
Salocer gripped Stocke’s head and slammed it into an invisible wall. Salocer’s face was contorted in fury, and one of his eyes twitched in madness.‘I have tried to be fair with you. I have! Even the Coordinator can attest to it. Can’t you? Can’t you Coordinator? You can see my fairness. You can see everything! But you … you.’ He pulled Stocke closer to him, stretching out his tongue and licking the line of blood that dripped from his forehead. ‘You are intent on playing tricks with me.’ Salocer breathed in, and then sighed.‘I am the Coordinator’s best actor. It is the reason that I have lived so long and performed in so many of his plays. I do my best. He can see it. I give no information and I perform my heart out. I show genuine expression, and I show genuine rage at your disobedience. You see, when you’re performing for the Coordinator, you have to perform well, lest your family suffer for it. When you get into a tangle with the Coordinator, the best scenario is one where only yo
- World Fire
Empty Space and Men in the Walls
The sound of Miles’ sniper resounded through the room, and Locke was confused as to where it had come from, and where it had hit. His eyes darted around and found no signs of the bullet. He stepped back, his body came in contact with the door, and rather than it giving him that support that it always did, it swung open under his weight, and he stumbled into a room of darkness.Right away. But, I’ve done it so much lately, I’m starting to tire.Locke willed his fire to cover every inch of his body, but it did little to push through the thick veil of darkness. Thump. A pair of feet landed beside him. It was Stocke.‘Locke, they’ve got Caria. They’re hiding somewhere in this room.’‘And they’ve got a hostage outside that I don’t know how to deal with.’‘How did the door open? The door should have remained locked.’Locke’s eye
- World Fire
That Which is Unseen
Stocke held Caria Laire close to him and gripped his knife close to his leg. The darkness pounded at them, and all details of the room were lost. A white fear had swept over Caria Laire, and Stocke, despite his own fear, knew that he could not falter.There was a scraping sound on the tree branch behind them, and when he turned, he saw a haunting figure drag itself towards them. It was the pale faced man with the knife, pulling himself with his stomach flat against the branch. His eyes were wide open, and his pupils horrifically small, and age-old cuts ravaged his face.‘There are wicked men …’ his voice sent chills through their body. It was like a ghoulish husk, whispering words not from his mouth, but through the wind that blew in from the window. The words stabbed at them and clutched to their minds, digging their icy claws into them. ‘… Hiding in the walls. Scratching from below the floorboards. Up, in the crawlspace above the roof. They come for you! They come for you!’The man
- World Fire
Burning Down the House
Rickter was faced with three problems. The first was the fire that had caught onto his head and had consumed the bookshelf behind him. The flames licked at the open air, searching for flesh to gnaw at. The second was Calindar, who, despite her wound, looked wild with rage. Her dark blue hair stretched across her torso and sweat dripped down her pale face. The third was the glowing orb over Calindar’s shoulder. The orb that played Simons Says.Tick, tock, tick, tock.Bzzz Simon Says … punch a window with your bare fist!The excited tone that the orb spoke to Rickter frustrated him. It suggested such maniacal things with no shame or hesitance. Rickter climbed to his feet and Calindar followed sluggishly. Caw dived down and slashed its talons once more across her eyes. She gasped and stumbled, still clutching at the bleeding wound in her gut.He ran to the far window, cocked his fist, and punched through the glass, adrenaline fuelling him. The shards of glass cracked free and dug into hi
