Dream of a Vast Blue Cavern

Chapter 5: Whispers of Treason: Stasia

 Stasia lay suspended between great heat and frigid cold. Her front roasted, blazed, burned. The back side of her was icy. Even with her eyes closed, she could see fire. Red and orange and yellow shapes flickered and danced. Her front ached. She opened her eyes, and they hurt from the sparkling brilliance of yellow light that assaulted her from above. She was floating on a vast lake of water, under a huge ball of yellow fire.

 She rolled over in the water, and her breasts and belly were soothed and cooled. Soon, though, her back began to burn, and she folded her body at the waist, grasped her shins with her hands, and dove down beneath the surface, away from the bright light. She sank further and the light faded, until she reached a murky darkness. She rested there, cool, dark, lifeless.

 

 “ . . . Can't heal her while I'm running . . .”

 “—No choice, have to keep moving—”

 A flicker of noise echoed toward her and she started to rise again. The light grew brighter. As she rose, the burning began again. When she reached the surface, the water disappeared and flames took her.

 “ . . .ok, Stas, it's ok. Shhh.” Larc's soft voice and cool hand broke through the flames.

 “—Keep her quiet, they'll find us—” Casser’s stern and commanding tone cut through Larc’s gentle hush.

 “Will kill every one of them for this. Every last Flame!” Glace, his voice so full of hatred she almost didn't recognize it.

 She was suspended in midair by Larc’s cold, moving rapidly through a tight tunnel. Even surrounded by cold she burned as if she was still in the Flame's hands. 

 “Glace,” she tried to say, but Larc shushed her. She wanted to be taken to the ancient burial chamber that she had found before the war began. She wanted to be buried there with the copper-clad lady, protecting Iskalon for all eternity.

 “Shhh, its alright, he's here.”

 “Got to keep her quiet. We are close to the Spiral Tunnel.”

 Larc's hand touched her forehead, and Stasia sank back into the dark water.

 Flames sprang to life again, and Stasia woke from the darkness to find herself in a giant, empty cavern. The ceiling was blue, the floor was bright and dusty, and the piercing yellow light shone at its zenith. She was in V'lturhst. She was hot and thirsty and weak.

 “Why didn’t you save me at the lake?” Glace asked, appearing before her. He looked at her with his blue eyes accusing.

 “You failed me.” His face melted and became her father's face, scorched and burnt like half-cooked meat.

 “You're a Flame and a traitor.” Her father lit on fire, burned down to the ground, and she was surrounded by the people of Iskalon, all covered with dancing flames.

 She raised her hands to her face to cover her eyes, and too late she saw that her own hands were flames. She burned to the ground like her father. She lay on the parched ground, ashes, surrounded by the ashes of her people.

 The bright yellow light faded, and the blue ceiling grew dark and grey. Water began to drip from it.  A darkly handsome man stood over her ashes. She could see him clearly; the lines of his square jaw and close-cropped hair were sharp against the grey walls of the cavern. His face burned into her mind; she saw the pores on his nose, the mole on his right cheek, the tuft sticking up from his left eyebrow. He raised his face and looked up at the ceiling. “Looks like rain,” he muttered. He drew a long, thin object from his black suit and pressed a button. The object made a whooshing sound and grew into a miniature ceiling. The man walked away beneath it, whistling.