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Simurg	By : Cynthermes Category: A through F > The Cronnex Series Views: 1348 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Cronnex and its characters is explicitly owned by Trewin Greenaway and no profit has been made out of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 12
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- 14
Elyn waved joyfully at them at the edge of the city steps as they descended to the direction of the harbor. The boy mentioned that he ‘understood’ their need for privacy before saying goodbye.
“That child is a born empath and he is very skilled already even at his young age.” Ra’asiel remarked when they were out of sight and earshot.
“He’s very adorable, isn’t he?” Cind’rikh agreed, giggling. The godling stopped when he saw the serious expression now etched on the amethyst god’s face. “What’s the matter, beloved?”
“Do you still remember our pact before you entered the portal of Lake Lethe?” The Lord of Chaos asked.
“Yes.” The Phoenix-incarnate nodded, comprehending the implications.
“Cind’rikh, you are a godling now. Your every move will affect the turning of the Great Wheel and the three godly realms. I’m just concerned that you are getting very much attached to this mortal halfling.” Ra’asiel reminded him with a stern voice.
“I know. I am not to interfere if they are supposed to die. I cannot aid them more than necessary or I will not be able to remain here.” Being an egg for 1400 years is no fun. The godling reiterated the words in their pact with his head hung low.
“I am not telling you not to protect the ones you hold dear, but know your true purpose.” Ra’asiel sighed and gently tilted his chin up so their eyes would meet.
“I love you beloved, and I don’t want you to be hurt greatly because of these attachments. Please understand.” The amethyst god cupped his face and kissed his lips lovingly. His consort still pouted when he pulled away. “Please don’t be sad. I hate to leave you this way.” Ra’asiel beseeched and embraced him.
“When you return in the next full moon I want a tall flask of Ambrosia. Let’s drink together.” Cind’rikh said suddenly catching his husband by surprise.
“Of course, anything for my beloved.” The ruler of Pandaemonium gladly consented. His skin was now morphing into amethyst. “Anything else?”
And I want the crystal bed then the mood would be perfect. The brunet wanted to add but he changed that to, “And just the two of us.” He reached out and pinched one mauve nipple for revenge.
Ra’asiel winced hissing but didn’t retaliate. He was indeed guilty for making his beloved’s breast really sore but he wasn’t about to apologize. The amethyst god blew his consort a kiss before his image collapsed into a heap of violet feathers that were carried away in a sudden gust of wind. The feathers danced gracefully into the wind before disappearing high into the late indigo blue night sky.

A draft of early morning poked his exposed back stirring him to wakefulness. How could such a breeze penetrate his thick alchemist’s robes? But his front was surprisingly warm and he didn’t want to shift just yet. Then peaceful snoring came forth from the same direction and he dared to crack one eye open. Naedas stifled a gasp. Caelas’ sleeping face was inches away from his own.
So it wasn’t a dream after all! An arm heavily draped around his naked torso and a leg wrapped around his thigh. He suddenly felt himself hot in the face. They were surely drunk last night and the king was wasted with hard liquor to know what they had done. He tried to sit up and gently pried himself away from that warm embrace. He barely lifted the arm away when navy blue eyes flew open and gazed at him sleepily. “Planning to leave me so soon, lover?”
Gooseflesh erupted from his nape and down his still trapped body. Naedas opened his mouth but no word came out. So the king sealed their lips instead. “What? Not even a good morning?” The ebony-haired king teased.
The young alchemist could only moan and purr when that talented mouth descended to nip at his sensitive throat then breast. They were on their way to make love again when a knock interrupted them in mid-kiss.
Naedas jumped, searched frantically for his clothing and started to dress like a homunculus was out to get him. Caelas merely huffed in annoyance at this interruption but began to dress himself. He flung the door open uncaring of their disheveled state.
Antoneus stood gaping at the doorway, accompanied by Miermi and his two grandsons. The herbalist said nothing but Elyn’s eyes twinkled as he exchanged glances with Cinder who tried so hard not to grin.
“Y-Your Highness, I’m very sorry for interrupting you… we just came to tell you that Lady Katharine is nowhere to be found. She didn’t attend the funeral pyre yesterday and not a soul has seen her ever since.” The minister’s eyes were glued to the ground as he told his liege the news.
“I see. I have something to tell my guests as well but I presume they can wait, whilst I properly groom myself for the morning.” The king said a bit irritably. His fingers instantly traveled to his still throbbing brow. He had never handled his liquor this badly in ages.
“I… I’m going to my chambers…” The young alchemist behind the king squeaked. His once confident and impenetrable mask gone with his tousled hair and wrinkled robes. Naedas dashed away before they can take a good look at his bruises.
Caelas watched the swish of robes before they disappeared in a corner. He gave them all a hard look except Cinder and closed the door in their knowing faces.
“Wow, it seems the king made oumphh—!” Cinder covered Elyn’s mouth before the boy can state the obvious.
The king gathered his original guests back in the private lounge, ready to discuss the developments of their standing. They spoke first about the deliberate murder of Fei and the motives behind it. Steaming cups of tea with freshly baked bread and honey were laid out on the table. Miermi made dark strong tea for the king’s hangover.
“Our principal alchemist divulged some useful information last night about the attack. It appears that our suspect for treason, Olympia was seen a few feet away from the funeral pyre opposite our unseen witch.” The king spoke after a small sip of tea. He tried hard not to wince, Cinder noted. This drunkard’s tea was ill reputed to taste like overly boiled broth of old leather according to Elyn. How the kid knew? It didn’t matter.
“So it’s harmless to assume that Olympia escaped from the detention chamber even before the pyre started?” The herbalist inquired while stirring his own tea.
“Yes. I should have used more caution in detaining her. I never thought a girl I have known since childhood is capable of such powerful magic for vile ways.” Caelas said in disappointment.
“It’s not surprising since she was brought up by men and women who taught children how to be prejudiced, superstitious and narrow-minded.” Miermi agreed, sighing. “But Your Highness, there is something that’s been disturbing me since we met. That principal alchemist of yours… I have a gut feeling that says he’s involved with all these.”
The reaction splayed on the king’s face was incredulous. He appeared about to challenge the elder man’s remark but on the last minute hid his frown with a sip of tea.
“I understand he has made himself an alibi for the disappearance. But his use of red ochre while performing the transmutation…”
“Is very alterable when combined with magic. Red ochre is a flexible medium for both magic and alchemy.” Cinder blurted before he could hold his tongue, which earned him unwarranted attention from both the king and the herbalist.
“Who taught you this, boy?” Miermi queried with a furrowed expression. His analytical moss green eyes were scarier now with that youthful face.
Cinder looked down, unable to meet their eyes. Where had that come from? They were probably harmless memories from his past that’s why they didn’t lock up.
“My foster father, Alfrund.” He lied and from the looks of the elven man he wasn’t buying it.
“I’m very sorry I’m late.” A familiar voice interrupted the sudden uncomfortable silence.
Four heads looked up to the principal alchemist who was back with his impenetrable eyes and smiles. The king dropped his head first and gestured for the empty seat next to him.
Caelas fidgeted a bit while his seatmate looked calm and composed. Miermi didn’t hide the hostility from showing this time. He regarded the alchemist with a cold suspicious stare. “We were just talking about you Master Naedas.”
The conversation didn’t end too well. The evidences piled up high against the alchemist. Miermi did a little research while he was away. He was able to trace the wood carver of the coffin and the wood used. The wood carver had confessed that an alchemist purchased one of his merchandise. His description matched Naedas’ features perfectly. The same red ochre was also used on the wooden corpse’s runes so that it had the means to sail by magical incantation.
The final nail struck when the king turned to him and asked, “Are these all true, Master Naedas?”
He wouldn’t be able to lie. The king was a wizard. That was the reason why anyone he asks for the truth couldn’t deny him that. His mouth opened awkwardly, not in his own volition he answered, “Yes.”
The king was devastated. He shook his head, “No Naedas, that’s not true. You’re admitting a lie.”
And how he wished it were the case. It hurt so much to see the one he loved struggle for denial. “You know I can’t lie to you, Your Highness.” Naedas managed a smile though it was a sad one.
“Why?” The other people seem to vanish in the background. And again he couldn’t lie. This was the perfect opportunity to tell him everything without fear.
“Because...” Splitting pain exploded in his skull and he shrieked abruptly, toppling down the carpet as his limbs flailed wildly.
Cinder jumped and immediately held the struggling form from hurting himself. Red eyes and moss green ones met. The owner of the latter nodded. He mind-touched the lad, trying to ease his wracked thoughts. He barely breached the surface when he violently recoiled away as if he’d been burned and his life force sapped. This feeling was familiar… actually eight years too familiar.
He tried again more forcefully this time but he stopped again before he could deal damage on the young alchemist’s mind.
The blind thrashing stopped and Naedas lost consciousness. The king cradled his head on his lap and stroked his pale still pain-filled face. “What happened?” Caelas asked while the herbalist appeared to be shaking like a leaf.
Miermi remained quiet. It took a few minutes to compose himself and still he didn’t move from his standing position or turn to face the king.
“Grandfather, are you alright? You look sick.” Elyn observed in worry.
“Mythral.” One word escaped the herbalist’s lips.
Caelas’ navy blue eyes widened in shock and he too couldn’t move or speak afterwards.

“Why? What’s ‘mythral’?” Elyn couldn’t stand the suspense and kept prodding them for answers. Cinder shushed him gently and placed his hand on the herbalist’s shoulder. That touch sent a comforting wave of healing energy and Miermi felt recovering immediately.
“I’m fine Cinder, thank you.” Miermi exhaled, relieved. His mind didn’t doubt the lad’s origins anymore much less his advanced knowledge of alchemy. The mark he saw at the back of Cinder’s head reminded him of the possibility. Their similar reactions at the mention of the word however made him doubt again.
Cinder was shaken just as much as Miermi was and the lad was better at hiding it.
“Naedas, I’m afraid is a summoner.” The herbalist confirmed grimly.
“What… no, who are we dealing with? If memory serves me right, the mythral mines have been heavily guarded at the aftermath of the last war.” The king finally stated in a baffled, hopeless voice.
“If they have access to mythral it only means that we are facing a tougher more powerful enemy. The involvement of the Daughters and the Order could only be a front.” Miermi concluded rather stoically.
“Only one name knocks in my mind and I don’t know if I can speak it freely.” Caelas hands clenched into fists and he shut his eyes in anger.
“It’s not Maerdas. He’s too proud to use the Ishman Faith as a front.” Cinder said firmly making their mouths hang open.
“Cinder, just who are you? You are surely not an ordinary human or if you are even one.” The sorcerer demanded.
“It’s not the right time. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to check on something so I have to leave.” The raven-haired lad exited the private lounge without waiting for their answer.

Void enveloped his human form once more as he flung himself out of a palace window while he soared high into the bright blue sky as the Phoenix. His pact be damned, this was getting a tad too serious. No human was allowed access to mythral and the fact that ‘someone’ managed to stick one into Naedas’ skull alerted him of ‘divine intervention.’
Naedas felt somehow important to him like he was a brother or kin. He couldn’t exactly tell but his heart functioned like his brain somehow ever since his memories were sealed. His thoughts were racing when he sharply tilted on his flight by instinct. He then realized he almost collided and roasted a brown-feathered eagle to a crisp.
The eagle squawked in fear and glided downwards to land. Some of his wing feathers were burned and he mind-touched it in apology. When it tried to mind-touch back, Cind’rikh brushed him off quickly for he was in a hurry to investigate another mystery.
Soon after a verdant forest became visible beneath him and he reduced his speed, gliding downwards to perch on a peak of a mountain at the heart of the enchanted woodland. As he perched, golden feathers fell away as he shook them off and he stood in his gloriously naked human form.
Apparently he had forgotten to shed his clothes again in his haste. He swore when he looked down at his skin covered with several lush bruises and love marks. The soreness in his breast and love hole would make a scene. The new elder of the dragons had a nasty habit of commenting about trivial matters. But learning the only one responsible for this appearance would practically shut his trap of a snout.
“Wyrtgeorn!” He called in his bronze godly voice. He felt the thick rope of ancient power rustle in movement as the mighty dragon drew nearer.
“How can I be of service to you, my lord Cind’rikh?” The eldest dragon bowed low as he perched before the godling’s bare feet.
“I want you to accompany me to the mythral mines.” Cind’rikh ordered simply and the dragon dared raise his scaly head to meet his flaring ruby gaze.
“I see that the lord Almighty Ra’asiel plowed your field so generously.” Wyrtgeorn remarked amusedly.
Yet instead of anger, the godling blushed furiously at the memory. Fortunately, the dragon was noble enough to humble himself afterwards. “What I mean, My Lord is that we rejoice of your intimate union. But I won’t allow your human form to be scraped raw as it is.”
He appreciated the dragon’s concern for his ass if he were to ride that scaly and bumpy hide.
A nice thick fur would do and the dragon flew to retrieve one.

It had been past noon but Naedas didn’t even stir in his slumber. The grandfather and grandson pair had been in close watch ever since the incident this morning while the king performed his regular governing duties. Caelas loathed leave the young lad’s side but the herbalist assured him that he could do nothing at the moment.
Miermi wondered where Cinder could have gone. The change in demeanor was very pronounced, the sorcerer noticed. The brunet lad only acted this way when they were in danger or someone was wooing him. The latter phrase was somewhat amusing. The lad was barely twenty! The fact that he could maintain his fidelity with the man husband was a mystery. Most young men his age would flip left and right for conquests but Cinder appeared to be most different. He was very reserved and he was very reliable when they needed him like he was the guardian instead of him.
And the way he acted as he left… If he were just another lad his behavior would have been accounted for arrogance especially in front of the king.
But the way the lad did it so naturally was like talking to someone else entirely.
Cinder possessed that aura of superiority that he still couldn’t measure in magical intensity.
Some sorcerer he is, he brooded. And there was that pulling in his life strings again when he demanded about the lad’s true identity. “It’s not the right time.” That voice sounded quite different like it was echoing all over the place when the lad said that.
“Grandfather, do you think Cinder could be the fourth star?” Elyn asked out of the blue.
“What?” Miermi’s eyes widened.
“Oh it’s nothing. It just occurred to me that the position of the stars the day we met Cinder was exactly the same when… Mama died.” His grandson finished somewhat awkwardly.
“Ah, your Mama knows best. Once we get you safe and secure, I’m going to look for an excellent Astrologer to be your teacher, how does that sound?”
Elyn didn’t respond his dagger was out and in an instant checking a frozen figure in the throat. The aquamarine eyes were narrowed to slits as he gazed on a man’s face with a narrow blade tattoo. Miermi didn’t even hear the rustle of clothing or the tap of feet but the assassin was about to attack the occupant on the bed.
“Drop your weapon.” The sorcerer commanded, his staff poised and ready.
“Or a frail elf and child will stop me? I don’t think so.” The assassin laughed, oblivious to his ignorance. He raised his dirk, about to attack Elyn but the boy was quicker. Red light flashed and the assassin was pitched against the wall. Miermi petrified him before he could run.
“A… demon child and a… sorcerer… I… should have known.” The assassin could only move his mouth for speech.

Pali couldn’t believe his eyes. He just saw a firebird turn into a naked young lad! He hissed at his burned forearm and gasped as a mighty black dragon suddenly arrived at the Peak of Bennu Mountain bowing deeply to the lad. They were conversing but he was too far away to hear even with his sharp senses. He stood bare at the branch of a tall Cedar tree to be exact. He wondered if this lad was a Totemican just like himself but the eldest dragon bowing down on his feet proved otherwise. A dragon fledgling won’t even do that for a Nithaial and Jessan doesn’t turn into a firebird in any way.
He couldn’t go back to his village with this injury. He was stuck in this forest for a while until he healed and judging from the severity of the burn it wouldn’t be more than a few days. He can’t hunt for food and that was the worst of it. Perhaps he can mind-touch this young lad for the damages?
The black dragon returned with a primed tyger fur for his ass and he took it gratefully. Cind’rikh made quick work of the wrapping and tied it around his hips snugly. The dragon lowered its neck submissively as he climbed up to mount. “My Lord, Cind’rikh your internal fire burns greatly, please tone it down or I might as well be carrying a bonfire.” Wyrtgeorn hissed at the sting of their contact.
“I apologize, Wyrtgeorn. My anger clouds my sense of self.” The godling was surprised of the intensity of his aura. It was blazing with so much ‘power’ to be harmless. He immediately attempted to calm down and his life force went tame with it. “Did I scorch you?”
“You would have, my lord, if I am not a dragon. But you did cause me pain.” The eldest of the ancient creatures admitted. He spread his mighty wings and with the first flap they rose to the air. “Hold on tight, my lord.”
“I’m not planning to throw myself like what we schemed before.” The phoenix-incarnate chuckled, his mood lightening somehow.
“This trip sounds urgent. Do you want to tell me why we have to check on the mines, Lord Cind’rikh?” The dragon asked a bit perplexed. The godling chose not to answer him and the ancient creature didn’t prod. He was wise that way.
They barely left the woodland when a persistent creature continuously mind-touched him. He realized it was the same brown eagle that he injured a while back. His conscience called to him this time and he ordered the dragon to halt.
Wyrtgeorn’s slanted eyes narrowed seeing the helpless naked man on the treetop. “A Totemican.” The oldest dracon stated knowing at once what he was.
Pali came face to face with the brunet lad on the dragon’s back. He was strikingly handsome and more up close his eyes widened in recognition. “Niccas?”
Now it was Cind’rikh’s turn to be surprised. This young man knew his past life as a half-immortal.

A red circle appeared beneath the petrified assassin’s feet. With a burst of alchemic energy the assassin threw himself down the window, disappearing. Miermi and Elyn turned towards the direction of the bed to find Naedas standing beside it with a malicious smile. His teal eyes were overridden with black circles and they were dull like the eyes of a puppet.
Alchemic runes were carved in his left arm and he used it to attack them with transmuted spiked rocks by altering the terra firma of the palace floor. Miermi summoned his ancient power to conjure defensive spells. He deflected every transmuted spiked rock heading for their direction and reverted it to the base elements of clay and marble.
The deranged alchemist grabbed something underneath the sleeves of his robe. The rays of the sun caught the luminance of a tainted firestone. Miermi’s face tightened and braced themselves for the impact as alchemical energy flew wildly in lightning sparks around the royal bedchambers. Naedas imbued the unstable firestone with the transmuted rocks, combining them together as they hurled towards the sorcerer and the halfling’s direction.
A series of explosions erupted from the farthest to the nearest spiked rock. Miermi’s blue aura blazed and he conjured a defensive barrier to shield them from the blasts. Unfortunately the conflicting energies were very unstable and even the barrier distorted in shape as impurities clung to it.
Elyn raised his dagger and it emitted purifying power to counter the impurities. The boy thrust it next to the barrier with a pained grunt and the red magic consumed the flailing alchemical energy.
It was over in a flash. When the rubble cleared, the alchemist was nowhere to be found. The door simultaneously flew open and a thunderstruck king stood pale in the doorway.
The bedchamber was in shambles. The bed torn in two, the carpeted floors upturned ridden with holes, and furniture wreck cluttered everywhere. Elyn’s angelic face was twisted in a pained wince. He was covered in dust and soot, his right hand cradling his left (the one that held the wand of power) was tender and inflamed. His dagger gave off a faint glow, as it lay forgotten at his side.
Miermi on the other hand looked mostly unscathed. His surplice suffered a few nicks and tatters but there was not a wound on his skin. He helped his grandson to stand up and examined the injured hand thoroughly. “It appears quite tender but nothing a good salve can’t fix.”
“Are you two alright?” Caelas finally snapped from his trance and hurried over to them.
“We’re fine, Your Highness, but I can’t say the same for Naedas. He appeared possessed when he attacked us and escaped with an assassin.” The sorcerer replied with a protective arm around his grandson.
“An assassin was here?” The king reiterated with eyebrows raised.
“I have anticipated such but this,” Miermi gestured around the room. “I didn’t.”
“Like you said, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed… But Naedas…” Caelas stammered hopelessly.
Miermi observed the change in the king’s usually unattached and indifferent demeanor. Perhaps Naedas was the cure for the king’s loneliness and the key to expose the agenda of the Daughters and the Order. “Your Highness, please don’t despair. I know Cinder is now doing something to help in Naedas’ case. But we have to do our part. Did I ever tell you Master Porphoras and I once belonged to the disbanded Order of the Guardian Circle?”
“Cinder? What can he do about the mythral?” The king snorted, disbelieving.
“I suppose you are so caught up in your newly found love with Naedas that you didn’t notice the lad’s determination to do something in this situation. Just believe in him, Your Highness. That lad is capable of things that even mystify a sorcerer like me.” There was no use hiding the fact now if they have to band together to defeat an unknown enemy.
After tending Elyn’s slight hand injury, Miermi decided to visit the Grand Master of Alchemy with the presence of the king.
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