Cinis’ body lay imprinted and half submerged in the muddy ground, a dark maroon mixture of dirt and blood. Surrounded by debris and bodies, his nose twitched as the scent of his own charred flesh tickled his nostrils. He winked an eye open, the other stubbornly staying shut and screaming with pain. The earth squelched as he lifted his arm and traced a muddy finger over the charred eyelid, the mud cooling the burning sensation.
Slow elf. Weak elf.
He closed his other eye again and he saw the molten hand blazing towards him. Crushing fingers , thick as tree trunks, burned patterns across his face and body. The deep, fiery laughter echoed in his mind as the thundering footsteps faded away.
Come with us. Become strong elf.
Cinis sat up and scanned the battlefield with his one good eye. He saw no living thing among the smoking wreckage and blackened corpses. His axe was nowhere to be seen.
From his dried throat he croaked a name that barely escaped his blackened lips with a wisp of ash.
"Udi?"
Chessa sits holding her newborn son, her strawberry blonde hair draped over her bare shoulders. The baby coos and grasps at his mother’s fine, soft locks. They sit in a simple wooden hut in on the beach of the Desert Isle. Grass curtains surrounding a window billow in the wind through which the rhythmic sound of waves crashing on the beach ambles through. A Heartmoss woven quilt is wrapped around the mother and son, shielding from the salty air. Chessa raises her tired eyes to Cinis. He sits over a fire, wooden spoon in hand, preparing a meal of stewed Fire Root.
“Udi, the plants I showed you in the Dappled Haven. We tasted the leaves as we walked through the forest.”
Cinis rests the spoon on his head and chuckles. “A boy named after a plant to fight for the Fire Creed?”
“Udi are tenacious. They persevere and grow in nearly all conditions. They symbolize life itself for the Strawberry.” She answers immediately, her eyes flash him a factual glare. “And it was agreed upon that day.”
Cinis raises an eyebrow. “That was day was decades ago. I’m supposed to remember that and stick to my word?”
“Your word is precisely the reason I still sit here with you, Cinis, Ember’s Son. Your memory on the other hand…” She rolls her eyes playfully and raises the boy to his father. "Hold him, you'll see."
Cinis gazes out the window at the Isle's volcano, smoking in the center. Surrounded by desert and the lush green cacti and palm trees. He turns back and takes the boy in his arms. Cinis looks deep into Udi's heartmoss coloured eyes, the red-green shifting.
“Udi.”
A trader’s wooden cart creaks and cranks its way along the beach. A large, tan gorbon wearing a long beige robe pulls the cart towards a lone beachside hut. A large man dressed in bright coloured robes, lounges lazily on the cushioned cart bench as he holds the reins while munching on a handful of radishes. The man’s rotund stomach bounces along as the cart rolls over the sandy path. Gusts of wind billow orange-red sand, pelleting the wooden car.
Chessa’s bare feet step through the warm sand towards the cart. Her light, heartmoss dress flutters and flaps in the wind, red and green twinkling in the light. She walks along side a bare-chested Cinis, the two holding hands in the light of the twin suns. Cinis drags a large rucksack in the sand as Udi follows along quietly. The boy wears a heartmoss robe in the same Strawberry Creed style as his mother’s.
The robed trader sits up as he sees the trio of Elves and urges the sauntering gorbon to a stop.
“Whoa, Candleton!”
The gorbon looks back at the man, sighs and sits down cross-legged on the sand. The man slides off his cushioned throne like a slab of melted raclette cheese, landing gracefully on a pair of slippered feet. He turns to Chessa with open arms. “Kedvesem1!” he exclaims, pulling her off her feet in a loving embrace. “Why you so little? The bumfordi2 not get enough food to fill your belly? Bisdor understands, hard to find food in desert if he is slow, dumb elf-man. Not worry, Bisdor will feed you on journey to Asra, make you healthy weight again. Plenty of beets and radishes from Lubovnya.”
“Bácsi3 Bisdor! Thank you for coming for me.” She gently pats Bisdor’s belly. “As much as I love Auntie Lubovnya’s pickled goods, please be kind, we all do our part here to keep ourselves fed.”
“Sure, sure,” Bisdor turns to the approaching Cinis and gestures to the rucksack. “You look like boiled rag. Maybe Bisdor ask Candleton is putting bag on cart for you.”
“Hello to you too, Bisdor,” Cinis continues past Bisdor to the cart muttering under his breath. “…Fekete fakanlálal4.”
“What he is saying about black spoon?” Bisdor shrugs to no one in particular and turns to little Udi. “Hello young man. Good to see you again. One day you make good diplomat like mother, yes?”
Udi looks at Bisdor with red-green eyes. “Yes, I will be!” he says emphatically.
“Good, don’t be vagabond like papa.” Bisdor glares at Cinis loading the cart. “Why he so slow? Time is money, bumfordi. Be chop chop now.”
Udi takes his mother’s hand. “I want to go too. I can help.”
“By the Seed, your help would be wonderful,” Chessa smiles. “Unfortunately, I have to travel alone to deal with these Asran matters. I promise when I return we will take a trip to the Dappled Haven to finally meet the family.”
“I don’t want to stay with papa. The other children only want to play war!” pouts Udi, crossing his robed arms. “I won’t learn anything about diplomacy here. Please take me with you.”
A strong hand claps Udi on the shoulder, “Say goodbye, boy. Your mother needs to leave with the fat one to make it to the boat before dark.”
Udi fights back tears as he throws himself into his mother’s arms. He mumbles something into her shoulder. Chessa buries her face in Udi’s hair and whispers quietly to him. They stand quietly for a moment, the waves quietly rolling onto the beach. The moment ends and Udi walks, head down, back towards the beach hut leaving his parents alone.
Cinis looks as if he wants to say something but then lowers his head with a sigh. Chessa places a gentle hand on his shoulder and gives an encouraging smile. Bisdor looks up at the sun, shoves a hand into his robe and begins scratching. With a satisfied look emerging on his face, he clears his throat of what sounds like a lifetime of bodily fluid. He goes to adjust the robes on the gorbon before climbing up on the cart.
Cinis looks down at the circles he is drawing in the sand with his feet. “The boat leaves at sundown,” he mumbles. “As long as the weather holds up travel should be fine…”
“Bumfordi.” She pulls him in close. “Cinis, Ember’s Son has managed to live this long. Is it my understanding that the words I’ll miss you, my dear Chessa will be his undoing?”
Cinis struggles with his words. “I…should be going too. To watch over you.”
She places a gentle hand on his cheek. “Having a Fire Elf with me will not help my mission as a diplomatic envoy. I will return immediately once this is dealt with. It is an important matter for the Jezby family and father will need my help with the Asrans, although he may not know it. Asran relations with nearby nations are… fragile.”
“Nations don’t get along all the time. They fight and then everything is resolved. You being there won’t change anything…” he stammers. “I mean, it could be any diplomat, right? Why does it have to be you?”
Chessa takes a step back. “Of course, a Fire Elf can not understand the value of a civil conversation. I have told you how important this is to my family. Perhaps a year or two on your own will help you understand.” She turns and begins marching towards the cart.
“What I’m saying is that I want you to stay!” He buries his head in his hands. “You know I’m not good with words.”
She stops and turns around, her eyes glistening with tears. She marches back and firmly kisses him. “Was that so difficult? I will see you soon, my prickly fire cactus. Take care of our son.”
Cinis nods as she turns to get on the cart. He takes a step forward to stand on her footprints in the sand, curling his toes to grasp at the memory of where she once stood. He watches as the cart moves off down the beach, until it disappeared over the horizon. He stands until the sun follows suit and the moons rise to take its place.
- Kedvesem – Hungarian for My dear
- Bumfordi – Hungarian for someone who is slow and inept both in mind and physical movement.
- Bacsi – Hungarian for Uncle (shortened version)
- Fekete fakanlálal- Hungarian for black wooden spoon