The Fire That Points
1548 Words
The wind had stilled.
Just minutes ago, it had howled like something starved. Bow it lingered—awkward and breathless, as if the desert itself was watching.
Kaelen stood, brushing sand off his palms and clenched his jaw with quiet tension.
“We shouldn’t linger here too long,” he said, looking around the edge of the battered village. He rolled his shoulders that had been stiff from the ride, and turned to face Amara.
“Um… what is she doing?” Amara asked, nodding her chin toward the little girl—the one with soot on her cheeks and dirt under her fingernails.
She was sitting again, but this time cross-legged in the dust with closed eyes like she was listening to something no one else could hear. She lifted her small finger then extended her arms, pointing to a random location far into the dry horizon.
Just a bit to the left.
Just a bit off the battered settlement's path.
Kaelen’s brow furrowed. He followed the invisible line from her fingertip across the remains of the charred rooftops, past the dying crops, and into the vast nothingness—a strip of land so quiet, it was unsettling.
He looked back at Amara.
“I think she’s telling us where to go.”
Amara exhaled hard through her nose and slapped both palms on her hips.
“So what, now you’re just gonna change course because a half-starved child’s pointing at the middle of nowhere?”
“She’s a Flameborn,” Kaelen replied, she's quiet yes… but definitely firm.
“So? Weren’t we going to look for your wife?” Amara snapped, pacing a step away and spinning back around.
Kaelen didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the girl.
She’d opened her eyes now. Big, quiet and steady. But still pointing.
Kaelen crouched beside her, lowering himself gently, like she might vanish if he moved too fast.
“Hey,” he said, soft as the wind. “Thank you. For… whatever it is you’re trying to do.”
The girl didn’t blink. She looked straight through him, all while still stretching her hand.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” Kaelen asked. “Where are you pointing to?”
She trembled.
“She…” the girl whispered. Her voice cracked.
Kaelen leaned closer. “She what?”
“She’s there…”
But then—her arms gave out.
Her whole body collapsed forward with a sharp gasp, and Kaelen lunged, catching her just before her head hit the sand. She was burning with fever and her fingers were freezing.
Amara stepped up behind them.
“She’s there?” she asked, folding her arms. “Who’s she? Where’s there?”
No answer.
“I hate this,” she muttered, rubbing her temple with a sigh. “I hate this.”
She turned and started pacing again, muttering curses.
“C’mon,” she barked. “Let’s go. We’re sticking to the original plan.”
Kaelen stood slowly. “No… Please wait.”
Amara stopped. “What?”
He met her eyes calmly but with a heavy gaze.
“I know how it sounds,” he said. “But… she meant it. Whatever she saw or felt—it’s real. I don’t know if it’s danger, or help, or something worse, but it’s there. And I can’t just ignore it.”
Amara squinted at him. “Your wife is out there, probably suffering,” she said.
“I know,” Kaelen replied. “I feel it. Every hour.”
He looked at the horizon again.
“But we need every help we can get.”
“And if it’s a trap?” she asked.
“We deal with it.”
Amara pressed her lips together, twitching her fingers.
“Should we split up?” she asked.
Kaelen shook his head. “No. That’d be asking too much of you. Let’s stay together, but split pace, not paths.”
He nodded toward the cart. “You, Saltana, and the girl can ride slowly and carefully. I’ll take one of the horses and go fast, scouting ahead in that direction.”
“And if there’s nothing?” Amara asked.
“I’ll ride back. If there’s danger, I’ll send a triple flame burst into the air. You change course and meet me back at the center ridge.”
She stared at him for a beat. Then nodded.
“May the bright flame guide you,” she muttered, forming the old prayer symbol with her hands.
Kaelen unhooked one of the horses from the cart. The creature restlessly snorted and he ran his palm along its flank to calm it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the girl?” Amara called.
Kaelen glanced back. “It’s alright. I don’t know how… but I’ve got a feeling… I know where to go.”
He mounted up, tightened the reins, and gave them one last look.
“Look after them for me. I’ll see you soon.”
He nudged the “horse—“Hya!”—and ”they were gone in a rush of dust and hooves pounding across sand.
---
Saltana slowly opened her eyes from the galloping noise and stirred in the cart, blinking groggily. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her voice came out like a rusty hinge.
“What’s that?”
She rubbed her eyes and saw the horse disappearing into the horizon.
Her eyes widened. “Hey. Hey!”
She sat up suddenly, nearly flipping the cart.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?! Are you—? Are you abandoning me?!”
She pushed herself up, one leg slipping out from under her. “Wait—we have a deal, flame boy! An actual, on-paper, unspoken but very real deal!”
She swayed dangerously.
“I gave you a good deal and wit—you gave me protection! You can’t just aba—aba—abandon,” she coughed harshly, then crumpled back into the cart with a dramatic thud, the other horse tethered beside her snorting in alarm.
Amara didn’t even flinch.
“Calm down,” she said dryly, walking over. “He’s not abandoning you. He’s checking something. He’ll be back.”
Saltana squinted up at her. “Oh. Really?”
“Unless you’re… missing him already?” Amara asked, smirking.
“What? No!” Saltana barked. “Why would I—? I mean, seriously—he’s moody, he’s bossy, he broods—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’m just… worried about our arrangement,” Saltana said weakly, trying to sit up again. “Purely professional. And legal. Probably.”
She sank back into the cart, groaning.
Amara chuckled.
But her eyes… drifted toward the horizon looking at the way the dust rose.
The way the light bent, like the sky was holding its breath.
There was something out there. And she felt it too.
“Ride safe, fire boy,” she whispered.
Kaelen had ridden hard—harder than his body was built to endure—and now the wind whipped past his ears like ghosts screaming warnings he refused to hear.
The sun was dipping, bleeding across the sky like a cracked yolk. Shadows stretched long behind him, but he didn’t dare look back. Only sand—endless and indifferent—chased him now.
Until...
There it was.
Far ahead, alone in the nothing, stood a tower. Or what was left of it. A crooked, crumbling thing that looked like it had once touched the stars and was now ashamed to even touch the ground.
Kaelen squinted, narrowing his eyes.
There—beside the tower—is a horse. And two silhouettes. Humans. Barely moving.
His heart tightened.
He couldn’t see their faces, not yet. Just motion, shape. But something about the way the wind moved around them, the way the tower leaned like it was listening...
It felt like something was waiting.
---
Meanwhile...
The cart rolled gently along the ridge, the little girl was asleep in Saltana’s arms and her cheek was resting against the crook of her elbow.
Saltana sat behind Amara on the lead horse, bundled in a makeshift blanket, half-dazed with her ribs aching like cracked glass inside her.
Then her eyes widened as she turned.
“Um... Amara?”
“What?” Amara muttered, keeping her grip steady on the reins.
“They’re… They’re catching up to us.”
Amara glanced over her shoulder.
And froze.
Behind them, across the curve of the hill, three black horses galloped hard. And behind them—more. Soldiers. At least seven. Each bearing tipped spears.
The old crest of the royal guard—crossed fire and sand—shimmered faintly on their breastplates.
“They’re armed,” Saltana whispered. “And they’re fast.”
“Saltana,” Amara barked, slicing her voice through the panic, “hold the girl tight. Cushion her head and neck with your arms.”
Saltana’s arms instinctively curled tighter.
“Why?” she asked, already knowing why.
“Because,” Amara said, her voice steel wrapped in fire, “we’re about to run.”
She yanked the reins, and the horse beneath them kicked into a full sprint pounding it's hooves like drums of war.
- Writer
