5. Of Demigod Design
Never in her life had Feria seen such a display of stupidity as when the fire had eaten through the first quarter of the forest. Not only were the two men in her life absolutely unhelpful, one studying how the flames burned a deer carcass, her son picking this moment to experiment with magic. Additionally, as they told everyone to flee for their lives—many obliging, not all succeeding—an enormous group of beings ran towards the firewall instead.
A sloth swung from branch to branch, vine to vine, at their head. When Feria locked eyes with her, she smiled brightly and danced through the fires even more recklessly.
“What … are you … doing?” asked Feria.
“I wanted to come alone. But they insisted we stick together.”
“Your tribe members are wise,” said Feria.
“We’ve escaped bigger disasters before,” said Prebuha, a hint of arrogance. “We’ll be fine.”
Feria cocked her eyebrow.
The term wall of fire was well-chosen. These weren’t one-off fires like in Dilova’s restaurant, creating literal hotspots where animals could sit and talk together. It was a single, continuous line of fire, reaching as high as the treetops. A line of scorching hot soldiers, advancing relentlessly, advancing on them even now.
“We … I thought …” Prebuha looked around her. “Surely, there’s a gap somewhere, and we can just exit the forest this way.”
“There is not,” yelled Alix, as he ran past and blew on his tail to extinguish its tip. “Hot, hot, hot, hot.”
“Yes. Quite a surprise, love,” said Feria with a sigh.
Prebuha jumped in Alix’ way, grabbing him tightly with her claws.
“Are you the sorcerer?” she asked. He fit the description. Large glassy eyes. A giant fox, though his son would surely grow larger than his father within a year or two. An intelligent look on his face, as he studied the sloth and was fascinated by her claws.
“Afraid not,” said Alix. “I am an Alchemist. I achieve magic through, well, non-magical means.”
He pointed behind himself. “The rest of my family though …”
“Move it, keep moving,” said Feria. She took several of Prebuha’s youngest tribe members on her back, then ran ahead of the pack.
Some of them scowled at Prebuha herself. She could only cringe. Yes, she’d endangered everyone for her selfish wish to get this magic. She still had much to learn. But, but, the tribe would benefit too! She would always stay their healthy and strong leader, guaranteed.
But … that also meant she wasn’t as wise as she thought today.
“Of course,” said Prebuha, “it’s Feria, isn’t it? She is obviously magic.”
It was a new word, magic. One she used with hesitation, just like sorcerer. But it became increasingly clear that the godchildren had spawned many more godchildren, or demigods, and their powers could only be explained by waving your hands, praying, and naming it magic.
“Magical. Lovely. All of those things. But—” said Alix.
Prebuha turned to the Goddess of Fauna. Their son ran around and cast a spell, which she almost missed. She stumbled, frantically dodged the streak of light, then landed painfully close to the fires. She yelped in pain and rolled away, as she checked out a new wound on her back.
This was going wrong. She would not be the second sister from Dilova’s story.
“Is it true that you’re able to keep someone the same forever, as they are now?”
Feria stopped dead, even as fire licked her heels.
“Who told you that? Keep moving, keep moving.”
“Someone. Many beings. It has already been used successfully on two firebirds.”
“They are wrong,” said Feria decisively. “I don’t possess such powers and wouldn’t use them if—”
“So it is true!” yelled Alix, jumping over a fire to embrace Feria, and then his son. “I’m so proud of you Permiox. We thought it would be decades before—”
Their son looked away from the fires for the first time, as if he just woke up.
“Watch out!” yelled Prebuha.
A large tree had been burned through at the bottom, but its heavy top had stayed untouched. Now it fell, aiming straight for the group of scared beings that Prebuha was supposed to care for.
Permiox blindly cast a spell backwards.
The tree stopped mid-fall. It hung in the air with no other explanation for it. The small embers smoldering still on its bark refused to grow further, but also refused to die. This tree would permanently be on fire, and she desperately hoped it was not sentient.
“Father has taught me well,” said the fox child, as if reading a difficult report. “I can do things with energy that nobody else can. It seems … I can control it now, apply it consistently too.”
The question burned on Prebuha’s tongue. The forest burned a bit more aggressively, though, and they had to continue their escape.
Prebuha could overcome her laziness and keep up with the fastest of foxes. Still, her speech sounded permanently out of breath.
“Is there a payment? Requirements for the spell to work?”
“Don’t distract him,” interrupted Feria, taking her son away. “We need to think about stopping the fire, saving all life, not just escaping ourselves.”
Prebuha’s tribe members looked at her as if to tell her the same thing: to stop thinking about herself.
Dilova realized she had made a real mess of things by the time it was too late. She’d flown to the fires on the horizon, happy to have enough heat for the barrage of customers. Only to realize these weren’t small fires anymore, it was a wall closing in on them.
She’d alerted everyone in her restaurant at once, of course she had. The fastest and strongest of them, mostly the cats, rhinos and deer, had fled at once. Dilova was sad to see them selfish, but also glad to see them escape. At least, that’s what she assumed.
As she flew towards Tresmo to seek aid, the tree bickered with clouds again, the area was suspiciously devoid of sloths, and she saw that most animals were still trapped in the forest. Fog blinded them at the best of times, and the wall of fire simply cut off all escape otherwise.
“No, go save that sloth! She still has to build a city for us!”
“I am a tree. I cannot move or spit water on fires too far away to see.”
Dilova landed on his branches with a flurry of frantic flutters, stopping all conversation.
“The fire’s coming for you, Tresmo,” said Dilova. “It can have the forest, if it wants, and my restaurant was never certain anyway, but it can’t have you. What do we do?”
“I am not sure,” admitted Tresmo.
His roof of leaves kept the forest shaded and cold, out of sunlight at all times. And after every rainstorm, he’d be dripping droplets on the dirt for days. He’d assumed that the fires always went out before because the Forest of the Fallen was permanently cold and wet. He had no backup plan.
“I will bear fruit soon,” said Tresmo eventually. “My first seeds. Sapient seeds.”
Tresmo smiled with satisfaction. “I would like you to take them, when the time comes, and distribute them to the holiest of places across the world. Every corner of the world should have a beautiful forest, and a wise Gigant to watch over it.”
Dilova blushed once more. “Oh, I am truly not worthy.”
“But you are, am I correct, still a bird?”
“Well, yes—”
“Then you can fly anywhere. I would trust you with my seeds.”
Dilova leaned against his bark, next to his eyes. “Why have you given up already?”
“I haven’t.”
“You’re asking me to save your children at all costs. The typical move of a parent about to die, no, don’t tell me otherwise.”
“No, no, we’ll be fine. We will make it. And I don’t bark such promises for nothing! For now, focus on getting your customers to me. I will shelter. I will shelter.”
Dilova had to agree. Her customers currently ran through and even over each other like frantic ants, as the firewall closed in. She could only hope Fiante hadn’t wandered off and wasn’t objecting to being pulled along like a mule again.
Tresmo was the furthest point, the final place to be burned, unless the winds changed drastically. She could see Prebuha talking and talking and talking with one specific fox, her tribe barely staying ahead of the fire. She could only assume that was the famed sorcerer.
She flew back with only one thought repeating itself ad nauseum.
I should have asked the sorcerer to make my current life permanent … yesterday.