Peace Flame Part I

The cities of Alohong and Techazir had been at war for as long as anyone could remember, and for decades before that. No one knew how or why it began, but each year brought a new slight from one city which required a violent answer from the other. Young men were born, grew old enough to marry and once they had two children were sent off to fight and often to die. There were those in both cities who cried for peace, but the rulers were strong, the military powerful and patriotism ruled the cities.

Between the two cities lay fertile fields, worked by farmers of both Alohong and Techazir. Every year they prayed that their small plots would be spared the fighting. Each year a few remained untouched through harvest, but most were trampled and bloodied.

One early spring before the battles began again, a group of farmers from both cities came together and, overlooking their differences, decided to travel to the Wizard Under the Mountain to ask for help. One of those farmers was young Cassian.


Photo courtesy Katy Bureker
 

Cassian wasn’t quite sure how he had ended up here, standing among other farmers in front of the heavy iron gate that barred the way forward. He was the youngest of the group, and had been an outcast since his father died a traitor’s death while passing secrets to the Allohong army.  Never mind that Cassian had only been ten years of age when it happened, and had no idea at the time why he was suddenly head of his family. After that caring for his family left him little time or energy to break the barriers created by his father's actions and death. But now for some reason he had been asked to join this excursion by Allred, Techazir's Farm Head, himself. And so here he was.

“How do we get in?” one of the men asked, as the others shuffled for position in order to see the gate and its surrounding rock. It was a sturdy barred gate with few decorative frills, a little rusty but strong enough to withstand a battering ram.  Not that a battering ram was in the farmers’ minds. They wanted peace, and storming the gate didn't seem a good beginning for that request.

Cassian studied the gate, which had no apparent handle or hinges.  Solid walls of rock rose up on either side; it appeared as though the gate grew right out of the rock. Then, as he stepped sideways, he noticed the light play on a subtle indentation on one side. He pushed through the first row of men, ignoring their irritated mutterings, and stepped in front of the shadowed indentation. It looked like a blurred hand print. Without thinking, he placed his hand into the space and felt a burning tingle, as if he’d pushed his hand into a stand of stinging nettles.  He yelped and pulled his hand back. Then, with a groaning screech, the gate slid open and disappeared into the rock on the other side. Startled, Cassian jumped back and let Allred and the rest surge to the opening.

 “Well done, son” Allred said as he walked by, resting his hand for a moment on Cassian’s shoulder. 

Cassian ducked his head. He had rarely been spoken to by Allred before, let alone praised. “It was an accident, sir. I really didn’t know that would happen.”

“But you were the only one observant enough to see it, and brave enough to act on it. It’s good you came with us.” He strode to the head of the group and walked through the opening. Cassian followed, feeling warm inside.  It felt like the beginning of acceptance after years of being the head of a disgraced household.

The path into the mountain wound between high stone walls. Moss grew in crevasses; moisture wept and sometimes streamed down cracks in the rock.  The air was warm and damp, and at some point the rock grew together above and they were walking through a tunnel.

Finally, after a long curve in the tunnel, they came to a door. It was open, and a man stood in the opening.  He was old, with white hair and beard, but he stood tall and straight.

“How did you get through the gate?” He demanded. “And why are you disturbing my peace?”

Allred and Alahong’s Farm Head Jarneth, stepped forward. “It’s peace we’ve come for, sir.” Allred said. “We are farmers from the cities of Techazir and Alahong. Our cities have been at war for generations. Our fields are trampled every year, most of our crops destroyed.  Our young men are dying before they even have a chance to live.”

“We’ve tried everything we can think of,” said Jarneth. He swept his arm to indicate the group of farmers behind him. “We farmers have managed to come together, but nothing has swayed the minds of our cities’ leaders, or of the generals who love the excitement and honor of war too much. We were hoping for a spell from you, a peace spell.”

“And if not that, possibly some wise advice,” Allred said, twisting his hat in his hands.

The wizard stood silent. His gaze swept across them, and then settled on each man in turn for a few minutes. The silence grew, and the men began to shuffle. No one spoke; no one wanted to risk the wizard’s anger, or have him shut the door in their faces. Most looked down as his gaze touched them. Cassian chose to look him in the eye and was surprised to see a faint smile on the old man’s face. The wizard nodded slightly and looked back at the two Farm Heads and then sighed.

 “I do have something I can give you,” he said. “But as with all magic, it will require a sacrifice.”

“We pay a sacrifice every year when the battles rage,” said Allred. “One more will be welcome if it stops the fighting.”

“Wait here.” The wizard turned and disappeared into the darkness beyond the door. After a few minutes, a faint blue glow shone through the doorway. The old man appeared, carrying a torch that burned fiercely with a tall, deep blue flame.

As the flame came closer, Cassian felt a sense of ease fill him. He looked around and saw the other men smiling. The man next to him, who had scarcely spoken a word to him since his father’s disgraced death, flung his arm around Cassian’s shoulder and grinned at him. “You are one of us now, Cassian. You’re a good man!”

The wizard stood before them. Once again he looked at each man, holding their gaze for a couple of minutes. This time the men looked back at him. When he got to Cassian, the young man felt almost as though his thoughts and feelings were being read, all of the insecurities and loneliness he had felt since his father died.  Then the wizard nodded again and smiled. Cassian felt a buoyant hopefulness fill him up, banishing the negative emotions he’d lived with for so long.

Finally, the wizard spoke. “The sacrifice will be for one man to take upon himself. One of your young men must take up this flame of peace. Once he does, he will never be able to move more than one foot length away from it. He must abide in the middle of the fields between your cities. Any man or woman who enters the fields will feel in harmony with all things and will have no desire to fight. If it leaves the man’s proximity for any reason, it will go out and the magical peace will no longer lie over your lands. Once a man has taken it up, it cannot be given over to another, until the sacrifice is close to death. Then, and only then, may another choose to take his place. This is a hard thing for one man to do for the good of all. Much better if the people in your cities agreed to peace without magic.”

Cassian peered through lowered eyes at the men around him. All were looking down. All were shifting their gaze from one man to another without raising their eyes to look at the wizard. He considered their places in the town. All of Techazir’s men but him were married. Three had pregnant wives; the others were newly-weds. He guessed Allohong’s men were similarly bound. Allred and Jarreth were older but they were Farm Heads who had the experience and wisdom to lead the farmers and ensure profitable trades. He thought about his own life that until now had been difficult and lonely. A tiny part of him thought of Mirabeth who might possibly be waiting for him to come home, although she hadn’t come out and said it.

Without thinking any further, he took a deep breath and walked in front of the group to face the wizard. “I’ll do it.” The old man nodded with a sad smile, and handed him the torch.  It was much lighter than he expected, and it filled him with an overwhelming feeling of peace. He was doing the right thing, he thought and pushed down the image of Mirabeth and how she may possibly not agree. 

The wizard had walked back through his door, which shut behind him. The other men crowded around Cassian, praising him with averted eyes. Their guilt at the relief they felt not to be in his place was tangible. He turned and led the group away from the wizard’s door. Allred joined him and draped his arm around Cassian's shoulder as they walked. Acceptance felt a little bitter-sweet, but Cassian welcomed it all the same and carried the torch with pride.

******************************

Once they felt the peace of the blue flame, the people of both Techazir and Allohong honored him, and did what they could to make his life bearable. They built him a shelter and contraptions that would allow him to keep the torch close and comfortable, even when sleeping.  They took care of his mother and sister, and brought him food daily. And peace reigned over both cities.

End of Part I. Check back for Part II!

Comments

My gosh!! Is this written by

My gosh!! Is this written by you?? I want the next installment!!
Anytime you want to use a picture of the red flame you made for me you are welcome to! ❣️❣️

Thank you.

Thank you for the comment! There is a second installment - maybe you've already seen it (Peace Flame Part 2). I am not sure who you are since this is posted as anonymous - I'm trying to think of which pendant I made that had a red flame on it. :-)

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