Bewildering Stories

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Memories of the Flame

by Brian Grisham

Jahire awoke in his wooden coffin by a distant voice calling out for him. It sounded strange and off key like it was something that wasn’t truly from this Earth. He raised his hands as he focused his eyes on a blurred shape, kneeling over him, but there was no use, he couldn’t make anything out.

“Wake up, Jahire. Open your eyes and feel the life inside you,” said the monk.

Jahire opened his eyes again and focused harder. He could barely see the monk’s face, his eyes and his thin, grey hair, but he couldn’t find the strength to move his body or speak. What was wrong with him? He tried to remember his name, but nothing surfaced into his mind and a harsh panic suddenly struck him.

“Calm down, Jahire... you need to breathe. Focus on taking one breathe at a time,” the monk said as he held Jahire down.

Jahire relaxed a little and did as the monk instructed. Almost immediately he was able to focus his eyes and move his body. “I can’t remember... anything. I try to think back, and all I see is blackness.”

The monk, who went by the name of Geis Teror, told Jahire that he just returned to the living, and that he had been dead for eight years. All Jahire could do was lay there in his wooden coffin and accept it. Everything seemed different to him; moving, breathing and seeing. Jahire felt as if he was still lost in the depths of death.

Geis Teror reached out for Jahire’s arm and helped him sit up in his coffin. A warm smile stretched across his face, which seemed to bring about a sort of presence about him- the kind that made him feel comfortable and at ease. His wide, blue eyes were almost magical, and his gaunt face looked very familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite remember where.

“You worked here in our service, brother Jahire,” Geis Teror said with a nervous voice.

Jahire stood up from his coffin, not knowing who he was, or how he came to be in this box. He didn’t even remember dying. He only knew that he had to step outside and breathe in the open air. For, the world was his and somehow he felt this deep within himself.

The world was his.

With Geis Teror’s help, Jahire made his way out of the mausoleum. He peered off into the darkness that blanketed him like cold dirt over a disturbed grave. But, Jahire smiled. He no longer felt trapped, nor was he consumed by his profound anguish. He was free as if his very spirit had awakened for the first time in all of his life.

Jahire stood tall with a dominant, muscular build, nonetheless he felt small and helpless as he tried desperately to remember exactly who he was and how he died. He crossed his arms over his chest and his cloak flapped through the winds like lost ghosts travelling in the night. The fresh grass felt cool and crisp underneath his bare feet, and he wrinkled his nose at the putrid smell that emanated around him. That was when he realized he was standing in the middle of a graveyard.

“The night is cold,” Jahire whispered to himself as the cool, nightly winds passed through his long, blonde hair.

“Jahire,” Geis Teror hissed. “Come back in. It’s not safe for you to be outside.”

Jahire didn’t respond. He just stood there and breathed in the night air, filling his lungs with all he could allow. And he swore that he could, indeed, touch the sky with his fingertips and his very soul. He imagined himself having wings; long, leathery dragon wings that spanned across the starry sky. There he would own the night, at least for a few minutes anyway.

“Jahire,” Geis Teror called out again, this time closer. “The others don’t know you are here. You have to come back inside.”

Jahire exhaled and peered downward at his bare feet. Finally he turned around, made his way back to the mausoleum and climbed back inside his coffin, which was still caked with fresh, moist Earth. He then said with a calm voice, “You awakened me?”

Geis Teror leaned over and answered, “Yes. I had to. There was no other choice.”

Jahire looked down at his cloak and asked, “I’m a monk?”

“Yes, Jahire. You are a monk of the Seventh Order. You came to us twelve years ago to pray and meditate... but...”

“But, what?” Jahire asked in a steady tone.

“The beast from the sky came to us. He searched for knowledge and wisdom and when he found it he refused to accept it in his heart. He became distilled and vowed to destroy the Order. He killed you.”

Jahire blinked. He opened his mouth to speak but the words couldn’t escape his dry throat.

Geis Teror continued, “The beast known as Grumble returned to the Castle Manor and burned most of it to the ground. Seven brothers perished, but you survived his flame. And the beast swooped down again for a second assault and he picked you up in his claws and dropped you to the ground, killing you instantly. And now, my brother, you are here. Alive.”

“And why can’t the others know about my return, brother?”

“Sorcery, Jahire.” Geis Teror lifted up his cloak, revealing a sack tied to his belt. “I used the illegal tools of words to bring you back. With a chant and some blood, your rotten skeleton corpse fleshed into what you see now.”

“What was the purpose in bringing me back then?”

“Because you, my brother, are the only one who can stop the dragon. He terrorizes The Order still. And, he has become our master.”

“What do you mean?” Jahire asked with furrowed brows.

“What I mean is, once a month us- The Order- must sacrifice a human to Grumble so that he may let us live for the next time he returns.”

“Then he must be stopped...” Jahire uttered softly.

Geis Teror smiled and laid his hand on Jahire’s shoulder. Then he said, “I’ll bring back some food and drink. Tomorrow night I’ll speak to Raul about your presence and he’ll have no choice but to rid ourselves from this horror.”

“But, what if he refuses? What then?”

“He can’t,” Geis Teror said as he ground his teeth. “whether he likes it or not he’ll just have to accept it.”

Jahire looked down at the coffin. He knew that this was where Geis Teror wanted him to stay until he returned. After all, did he even have a choice? Perhaps this was to be his fate. Either to spend eternity in a coffin or gobbled up by some fire-wielding creature.

“I’ll be back here in a few hours. Until then you have to keep hidden in your coffin. Understand me?”

Jahire nodded then laid down. It did not feel comfortable at all, and when Geis Teror closed the lid, Jahire felt a sudden fright. It was as if his entire body was being squeezed by the old smell of rot that indeed used to be his.

Geis Teror returned three hours later with food, but Jahire barely touched it. Perhaps being dead for so long didn’t do much to stimulate his appetite. The slices of juicy beef almost made him want to vomit. It tasted rotten and reminded him of the awful smell that came from his coffin.

“So, what do I have to do?” Jahire asked as he slid the plate of food aside.

Geis Teror walked toward the coffin and uttered, “You have to stay here for the night. Then I’ll bring you to Raul, and you and I will go search for the dragon.”

Jahire nodded and eyed his food, thinking heavily about his mystery quest. Geis Teror left quickly without a further word in fear that the brothers would find him missing. Everything relied on the secret of Jahire’s resurrection. If discovered early, then the fight against Grumble would end before it had a chance to begin. Geis Teror shut and locked the mausoleum door behind him, leaving Jahire alone.

A torch with a healthy flame remained on the wall, giving him proper lighting to view the cold room. All around him were freshly dug up coffins, just as his. Each were marked with the Christian cross and saturated with moistened Earth. Cobwebs curtained the stone walls, some with metal loops set within them. The chains connected hung freely and were just as dead as Jahire was hours ago.

The mausoleum was stacked with unearthed dead. Jahire was puzzled by this, but at the same time he thought that there must have been a good reason and so left the matter at that. A pair of rats squeaked from behind, and Jahire watched as they scurried across the stone floor to the other side of the room.

Well, at least he didn’t have to stay the night alone. Sure, things could be worse. He could be dead. Jahire laughed silently at the thought. However, he figured that he may as well be dead as he couldn’t remember who he was, nor anything pertaining to his life and family. His memory was blank as if someone tied a blindfold over his brain, and that, he did not like at all.

Jahire slept peacefully throughout the day, and as it reached dusk the heavy mausoleum door swung open and Jahire stirred awake in his coffin. Geis Teror stepped into the flickering light of the flame and made his way toward Jahire. His face looked drawn and heavy, and to Jahire, he seemed to have a lot on his mind. Nonetheless, he figured that perhaps hunting down a rampaging dragon that can crush a human like an ant would worry even the most noble of men.

“Did you get enough sleep, Jahire?” Geis Teror asked as he neared him.

Jahire looked up at him, then climbed out of the coffin and muttered, “Did I miss the sun?”

Geis Teror raised and eyebrows and replied, “The sun just set. But, don’t worry about it too much, brother. You’ll be seeing it in no time soon. It’s important for you to take rest and prepare for your quest.”

“When do I meet the others? They must be curious as to why you come here.”

Geis Teror glanced up at him and uttered, “They don’t know I come here. And you’ll be revealed tonight.”

“And my quest?” Asked Jahire.

“Will begin soon enough.” Geis Teror answered then lifted up his robe and brought out some food. It was only a few strips of beef and a single slice of bread, but it was enough for Jahire “This was all I can get at the moment. I’ll return with some water later.”

“I have to remain here?” Jahire asked, eying the slices of beef in his hands and all the while trying not to think of decaying flesh.

Geis Teror peered back at the mausoleum door and said gravely, “Yes. But, tonight, after I’ve returned with the water, I’ll be accompanied by Raul and he’ll help us on your quest. He’ll have to this time...”

Jahire knew what he meant by- “This time”. It was apparent that Raul was too afraid to battle the dragon himself, and he felt that the only way to subdue the beast was too appease its appetite with a sacrifice. Once a month a brother of The Order was given to the dragon in exchange for one month of sanctuary. Why would the others want to remain in such a place where they knew that sooner or later they’d be next?

None of this made any real sense to him. After awakening from death, he felt he had awakened to a world filled with cowardly sins and guiltless anguish. But, isn’t this what the world had always been? Indeed, however there was something different this time around. Jahire couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps it was Geis Teror’s odd behaviour. If he did indeed cast a spell to bring him back to life then that meant he had performed heresy against his own covenant. Geis Teror could be charged and taken before a court, and if found guilty, executed.

Jahire then remembered what Geis Teror had told him- he used illegal tools to bring you back’. And it was now obvious that the world no longer followed its logical suit. It was as if something had fallen off balance. Magic and dark sorcery had penetrated into the very core of faith and hope, and Jahire hadn’t a clue what to expect next.

No, Geis Teror wouldn’t be tried and convicted before a court. It was The Order itself that became corrupt, and whether is was corrupted by man or beast, Jahire didn’t know. He supposed nobody really knew how all of this began. Though, one thing was certain. The corruption had to be stopped, and the first fight was with Grumble.

Geis Teror left for the monastery shortly after. And Jahire knew for sure that Geis Teror wasn’t looking forward to bring Raul here to speak with him. So many secrets... so much to hide.

Two hours later, the monastery door opened and Geis Teror and another man stepped inside. Jahire stirred awake and watched the two men approach him. He supposed the other man was Raul. He had short grey hair, which was slightly receding, and a stern, but somewhat fragile look on his face. Jahire slowly stood up as Geis Teror handed him a brass cup filled with water and introduced them to each other.

There was no doubt that Raul was taken back by Jahire’s presence as he peered at him from head to toe with wide, fearful eyes. And when Raul spoke, his voice was nervous and sounded frail as if somewhat frightened, nonetheless his posture revealed otherwise- a confident man, maybe a bit on the arrogant side, and to Jahire, he seemed to get angered and actively impatient whenever Geis Teror spoke, as if his very presence annoyed him.

Jahire couldn’t understand this. After all, they were all brothers, and Jahire knew that simple acts of annoyance and impatience inevitably led to lies and deceit. He had an idea that Geis Teror wasn’t giving Raul and the rest of The Order all of the facts over himself and the situation with Grumble as if the very thought of it all was a horrible sin that could never face the light of day.

So, it was a sin...

Geis Teror wasn’t going to give The Order his plan to defeat Grumble. That was a given. And, he certainly resurrected Jahire despite the orders of Raul and the other brothers. Jahire trusted him, nonetheless. Even with his own life, and Jahire was more than willing to put an end to the great corruption that manifested its way within The Order. Surely this was what Geis Teror wanted- to stop Grumble and the barbaric slaughter of fellow brothers, to exist in a peaceful world where all dragons are defeated and mankind could take their place among the world and expand their dreams and riches, and forever claim the Earth as theirs.

Geis Teror, Raul and Jahire travelled to the site where the sacrifices took place. The surroundings looked ragged and broken as if a thousand earthquakes happened at once. The once great trees, which flourished throughout the countryside, were now burnt to the ground. Jahire noticed there weren’t any other sounds except the howling winds that haunted the area, no less. Also, he couldn’t find any signs of birds or any other type of creature for that matter. The land was dead. To Jahire, it was like revisiting the graveyard, and he imagined that this must have been what it was like inside the mausoleum before Geis Teror brought him back to life.

Jahire felt ill in his stomach and wanted, for the first time, to die again. In spite of this, it seemed that was disturbingly impossible. Could he be killed a second time? He had no idea. It didn’t make much sense to him at all, and yet at the same time it did. He was no longer afraid of dying, but he had a sense that his life could easily be taken again.

“This is the place,” Raul said to Jahire. “Grumble comes here every sixth day of each month and feeds on one of our dear brothers.”

Jahire turned to Raul and asked, “And each sacrifice comes out here willingly?”

Raul peered at Geis Teror then replied, “Well, not every time. Sometimes we have to drag a brother out here by force and tie him up to one of the dead trees.” He fell silent for a moment then added, “We are all going to hell, you know.”

Geis Teror grinned as he rolled his eyes and said, “But, don’t you see? We can stop all of this! We can finish it now and there would never have to be another sacrifice again!”

Raul snorted out laughter and shook his head and said, “Sorry, my delusional friend. It can’t be done. You have good intentions, but not even that could free us from this curse. You’ve brought our friend... our brother, back from the dead, which is evenly foolhardy, and now you want Jahire to destroy Grumble single handedly?”

“Give him a sword and a shield! It can be done!” Geis Teror exclaimed.

“Ha! You’re out of your mind, Geis!”

“And what if I’m not?” Geis Teror yelled back.

“Look, if you go out there and disturb the dragon then it’s going to come back here and destroy us all,” Raul warned sternly. “This sacrificing is all just a game to that dragon. It doesn’t care whether or not we all die. The monastery doesn’t even exist anymore in its world-”

“So, you’re just biding for time, is that it?” Jahire interrupted.

Raul sighed with frustration and turned away. “You know, I don’t agree with this course of action. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to me. And the rest of The Order will undoubtedly kill the both of you. You especially of all, Jahire.”

Jahire blinked, but he understood. He was supposed to be dead.

Geis Teror smiled and said, “Our fellow brothers will call us heroes. They’ll understand my reasons for bringing Jahire back, and we will all be freed from this blessed curse.”

Raul gritted his teeth. Jahire saw the fury in his eyes, but his expression revealed his fear than anything else. Raul was actually afraid, and Jahire knew that that made Geis Teror feel even more powerful.

“I have weapons, armor and the needed equipment not far from here, and it will take us two nights to reach our destination,” Geis Teror said to Jahire, completely ignoring Raul’s presence.

“Fine,” said Raul. “Go on your way and may your deaths be filled with merciless horror... and let mine be twice as worse, for, I know I deserve it most of all.”

Jahire nodded. He wanted to say more to persuade Raul, but there wasn’t much more to add. It was simple, either he slaughters Grumble or Grumble slaughters him, Geis Teror, Raul and the rest of The Order. Indeed it was a risk Jahire had to take, and absolutely nothing could change his mind.

Together, Jahire and Geis Teror went north to the old, abandoned keep that used to belong to a young and powerful noble ten years ago, but was now mostly in ruins. The young noble was eaten by Grumble. Hidden within the keep were the weapons and supplies, which were stored away inside a secret chamber that only Geis Teror knew about.

As Jahire and Geis Teror reached the keep, the night time sky began to fade to a dark purple. All of the millions of stars vanished behind the veil of atmosphere. Jahire peered up at the sky and closed his eyes, feeling the light breeze against his face, and oh, how it felt good to be alive again.

Jahire opened his eyes. He imagined himself flying high into the sky, straight for the bright full moon as if he could actually touch it with his fingertips and land on it. It seemed like a dream... like something he had done before.

After sifting through the keep as if it was an ancient burial chamber, and recovering the sword and supplies, Geis Teror and Jahire travelled further north to Grumble’s lair. Geis Teror admitted that only he and Raul alone knew where the lair was located, but that was all. It was up to Jahire to search for and slay the beast.

For two nights they made camp and the next morning Jahire was ready. But, there was something inside of him, a tiny voice deep in his heart, which told him that he had been here before. Perhaps, but he still couldn’t remember anything before his death by Grumble.

As Jahire and Geis Teror arrived at the lair’s entrance- an old cavern that reached deep down into the cold depths of the Earth, Jahire could smell the dark reek of flame and ash. He could also smell human death and this made his heart quiver with fear. Then it hit him; he was going to kill a dragon that was more than fifty times his size. The beast, no doubt, would have lizard quickness and an uncontrollable appetite for human flesh. Well, his job was to be even quicker and to survive against Grumble.

Jahire turned to Geis Teror and said, “So, this is it.”

“Yes,” said Geis Teror as he dropped his load of supplies down to the very mouth of the cavern. “You’ll have to fight it alone. I cannot come with you.” He suddenly became worried.

Jahire smiled and said, “Don’t lose hope on me yet, my brother. I will be successful and will finally rid ourselves of this vile monstrosity.”

Geis Teror looked up at Jahire, smiled back and placed a hand on his shoulder then whispered, “Godspeed, my brother.”

Jahire then turned for the entrance to the dragon’s lair and stepped inside. In his left hand he held the sword. Geis Teror had told him at the abandoned keep that the sword was widely known as “Death Slayer”. And as he held it, he felt its power pulsating throughout his body.

In his other hand he held a torch. The flame was strong and the light produced heavy shadows all around him as if they themselves were magical creatures placed there by Grumble to protect the lair from intruders. Though, for some reason he did not feel like an intruder. He looked into the flame and he tasted the heat in his mouth, in his face and all over his body. The rising pain was excruciating, and yet a small part of him felt at home within it.

What was this flame? This memory?

At last, Jahire continued down the great cavern, which was large enough, needless to say, for a dragon to travel through. Jahire swallowed hard and his heart pounded in his chest. The dragon is here- the dragon is really here. It’s somewhere, sleeping the day away and perhaps planning for its next venture out to the monastery to feast on a poor brother who’s chained to a tree. What a sight to witness!

Jahire wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead as he rounded a rocky corner. From afar, the cavern was as black as night and the sounds of dripping water and bats from overhead kept his eyes wide and his heart racing. Blackness was all he could see despite the torch in his hand. It was as if the very darkness blocked the light from passing through.

Cautiously, Jahire made his way inside the heavy blanket of darkness. He couldn’t see the cavern walls or the ground below his feet. Every few seconds he scraped his foot along the rocky Earth to make sure he was indeed still in the cavern, but now he had lost his sense of direction. The only thing he could do was to tell himself to keep walking forward. Only killing Grumble mattered now.

Out from the depths of the Earth, Jahire heard a noise far ahead, and he froze with fear. As he stood there, he realized what the noise was; the soft and constant breathing of a sleeping dragon. To Jahire, it sounded as if the very winds were alive with spirit consciousness.

“Grumble,” Jahire whispered to himself as he held out his sword out in front of him.

Then, all at once, the constant breathing ceased and a pair of dragon eyes blinked open and watched Jahire with an eerie, animalistic yellow glow. Jahire flinched back, but before he had a chance to defend himself the dragon swooped through the shadows and seized Jahire in its claws. In that instant, Jahire saw the dragon’s gold plated scaly armor and its horrible, toothy mouth before dropping his torch and sword to the ground.

Jahire struggled to break free from the dragon’s grip. He felt himself being raised high into the air, and he was helpless. Powerless. Also, he knew one other thing- that his quest to destroy Grumble was at its end.

At last, Jahire screamed as loud as he could at the dragon, knowing he was about to die. He failed Geis Teror, Raul and The Order, and everything that he had ever known was now going to be destroyed by this dragon. Then Jahire gritted his teeth and shouted with all of his might, “I’ll destroy you! I’m going to come back again, hunt you down and destroy you!”

The dragon growled angrily at Jahire, then it immediately quieted down. It lowered him to the ground, released him from its hold and backed away further into the empty blackness.

Jahire gathered his wits together and shouted, “Grumble, I came here to destroy you! I will not leave until I’m victorious!”

The dragon lowered its head close to the ground and snorted once as if it submitted to Jahire’s words. To his left he found the sword and the torch. He rushed to them and picked them up, but as he turned for the dragon he saw that the glowing, yellow eyes were no longer there. The dragon had gone.

Jahire took a couple steps forward, and suddenly, out from the darkness, was a young, beautiful woman. She was sky clad except for a thin, silk garment tied loosely around her waist. Jahire eyed over the woman’s body, but it was her eyes that took his breath away.

With pouting lips, the woman whispered seductively, “Don’t you remember our love?”

Jahire furrowed his brows.

“You, my love, believe me to be Grumble?” The woman stepped even closer to him, leaned forward and ran her tongue along Jahire’s lips. In an instant they were kissing deeply and sensually. Then the woman forcefully ended the kiss and whispered, “You are Grumble. You are the dragon that everyone seeks to destroy.”

Jahire took a step back, shook his head and began to laugh.

“Oh, you don’t believe it?” The woman said with a grin.

“You’re confusing me...” Jahire muttered. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“No, I am not, my fiery love. But, you’re correct. You have been lied to.” The woman peered over Jahire’s shoulder at Geis Teror. He stood roughly fifteen meters away with a torch in each hand and a sadistic grin on his face.

“Wha...” Jahire began, but was quickly interrupted by Geis Teror.

“She’s right, Jahire. Or shall I call you, Grumble.”

Jahire spun around and faced him.

“My love,” said the woman. You were tricked by this man into believing you were human, and that you were dead. You never were.”

“Then why?” Jahire asked Geis Teror and the woman both, but only Geis Teror answered.

“Because you came to destroy us, and the monastery. We couldn’t allow that to happen so I cast a spell on you in believing that you were human.”

“And, he cast a spell that made you forget who you were,” the woman whispered harshly as she threw Geis Teror a hateful glance.

“But, I see that my deception is revealed. The plan is ruined,” Geis Teror said sourly.

“The plan,” Jahire muttered. Then he looked at Geis Teror and exclaimed, “The plan was to send me here so my lover would kill me, thinking that she had killed an intruder?”

Geis Teror smiled and replied, “Raul thought that the plan was too dangerous. I thought otherwise. I see now that I was wrong and underestimated Walchala.”

The woman, Walchala, growled fiercely at Geis Teror.

Jahire looked away, trying to remember who or what he was, but everything remained blank. He just couldn’t accept all of this.

Walchala then quickly cupped her hands over Jahire’s ear and whispered something that only Jahire could hear. It was... of home and love and mysteries. And, it was truth.

Jahire’s eyes instantly lit up. He peered at Walchala, his lover, for a long moment, telling her that he now understood everything, and why he had flown to the monastery to destroy it. The monastery was a place of evil. A place of false worship and pain and sacrifice. And it was, at one time, his prison.

Jahire returned his gaze back on Geis Teror. Geis Teror dropped both torches, then he dipped his hand into his pouch, but before he could cast another spell, Jahire shape-shifted into his true self- a three hundred foot tall dragon. His scales along his face, back and limbs gleamed a watery gold with bright, white horns protruding from behind his dragon ears and down his scaly back to the tip of his coiled tail. The color along his belly was night black, his eyes glowed a fiery yellow, and his teeth dripped with thick saliva.

Grumble snorted fiercely and brought his clawed hand down on Geis Teror, killing him instantly. Beside him, Walchala shape-shifted to her actual dragon self. She was a bit smaller than Grumble and didn’t have any of the horns that Grumble had. But, by far, her teeth were longer and sharper, and she moved her head close to Grumble’s, showing her affection for him.

Grumble moved his head against Walchala’s and then he stood still, thinking about the monastery. It had to be destroyed once and for all. Then Grumble expanded his wings with Walchala right beside him, and both dragons swooped out of the cavern for the monastery. As they reached it they began their fiery attack on The Order. The brothers and monks pleaded for their lives as they ran for cover, but Grumble left no survivors.

Raul was the last to die. He watched his order crumble into ash and ruin. He knew that he was doomed to be next. Grumble made one final swoop out of the clouds and plucked Raul from the smoldering ground and both dragons flew back to their lair and fed him to their baby dragon hatchlings.


Copyright © 2003 by Brian Grisham