Bottled Fire by Tweak McFreak

"Nail, son of Iragon, to prove your manhood, tonight you must journey to Dorath's Cave and capture a bottle of blue fire from the fiery dragon," the priest said solemnly.

Though Nail's face remained calm, his thoughts were the opposite. he felt small as he prepared to leave the camp to prove himself. He hadn't even been twelve for a full day and he was already sent to capture fire from the most feared dragon in the Syranade Mountains, and maybe even Aradei! And at night too! When he was younger, he longed to go with the other twelve-year-olds to Dorath's Cave, but now that he was finally going, he wondered to himself, "What was I thinking?"

"Nail?"

Nail spun around to find Sani standing in the doorway of his tent. His face reddened slightly. Sani was, in Nail's opinion, the most beautiful woman in the land of Aradei. She just also happened to be the current Prophet of Aradei, and a very good one at that. People came from all over the country to ask for advice and to discover what is their fate in life. She was twenty-eight years old and married to a nobleman called Rellen. Together, they had two children, Dadoro and Lasira, whom Nail had never met, as they were sent off to another country for reasons he did not know. America, he thought the name was.

"Greetings Prophet," Nail said.

"Greetings Nail," Sani said in her sweet voice." I thought I would wish you the best of luck in your quest."

"Do you know what is in store for me Prophet?" Nail asked.

Sani closed her eyes." Your future is clouded. All has been clouded since Valar overtook the throne," She opened her eyes." I must go now. May your quest be successful."

Sani kissed Nail's forehead and departed from the tent. Nail smiled, a new strength in him, as he finished pack his bag, which consisted of a lantern, food, and an unburnable bottle for the fire he was to collect. He put the pack on his back and strode out. Iragon, Nail's father, walked to him.

"Nail, I have something for you. Come with me," Iragon said, beckoning him.

Nail followed, wondering what on Earth could his father want to show him. He followed him to King Roycell's enormous tent. When Nail saw what was behind it, he gasped. Pawing at the ground was the most beautiful palomino horse he had ever seen in his life. Iragon, seeing Nail's stunned face, smiled warmly.

"She is yours, son," Iragon said.

Nail's eyes widened." R-really?" he stammered. Iragon nodded.

"What is her name, father?"

"Jareli."

"Where did you get her?"

"Queen Zavia's mare, Kucheza, had a colt five years ago. She kept her especially for you on your quest for manhood."

Jareli's mane glistened in the evening sunlight, almost blinding him, but he couldn't look away from her stunning beauty.

` "She is really mine? All mine?" Nail asked incredulously.

"Yes," Iragon replied, exasperated." Climb on."

Nail put his right foot on the stirrups. He felt a search of joy the moment he made contact with the smooth leather. He put weight on the stirrup and swung his left leg over the mare. Grinning happily, he adjusted his pack.

"Good luck, my son," Iragon said.

Nail waved at his father and trotted into the north. The full moon rose high into the violet sky, lighting the path to Dorath in a milky ochre didn't take but an hour to get to Dorath's Cave. As he halted Jareli, he heard Dorath growl menacingly. Nail froze, thinking he was caught, but the dragon never came. Suddenly it dawned on him that he was holding his breath and let it out in a low whistle. He silently dismounted Jareli and crept to the entrance of the cave. He crouched down and unsheathed the dagger he had placed in his boot earlier that day. After taking a deep breath, he slipped into the pitch black cave.

A disgusting stench floated up Nail's nostrils, nearly gagging him. He was tempted to hold his nose, but he knew he must have both hands ready, in case anything unexpected happened...

All of the sudden a loud, deafening roar filled the air and light erupted out of the darkness. To Nail's left stood the scaly, green dragon himself. Behind him, red flames leapt over his head, illuminating the vast cave.

The cave floor was littered with bones from rodent and even humans. Several boulders sat near Nail, towering over him as Dorath did.

The dragon bellowed again, breathing fire at him. He ducked and bolted to the nearest boulder. He then looked towards the freshly breathed flames. They were purple this time. He reached for his belt where his bottle should have been to discover with a jolt it wasn't there; he had left it with Jareli. Nail cursed furiously and turned towards the entrance. Purple and red flames and Dorath blocked his path.

Nail's mind and heartbeat raced faster than the fastest horse in Aradei. "What am I going to do?" Nail thought frantically. He glanced around desperately for an escape. Suddenly it hit him. He could sneak behind another boulder and, while Dorath breathed flames around the other rock, he could creep away and grab the bottle.

He took another deep breath and sneaked to the boulder next to him. Luckily, Dorath didn't notice. The dragon stomped to the other boulder and roared triumphantly, thinking he had found his prey. Taking the que, Nail sprinted past Dorath and out into the night. He ran to Jareli and yanked open the pack. Hurriedly, he fumbled through it. Once he found the bottle, he kissed it quickly and sped back inside the cave.

Dorath was tramping around the cave, searching for Nail behind a boulder directly across from him. He then noticed around the corner of his eye a small group of blue fire. He ran towards the them eagerly. Halfway there, he tripped over a human skull. Dorath turned away from the boulder he was examining and saw Nail lying there. Once again roaring triumphantly, he stalked to him. Nail screamed and scrambled to his feet. He held out his dagger and bolted to the blue flames. He scooped up the fire hastily. After closing the bottled and stuffing it in his pocket, he thrust the knife fiercely at Dorath. To Dorath, however, the dagger wasn't much bigger than a fingernail. Nail, realizing this, almost backed into the vibrant blue fire. Suddenly, Nail had an idea.

He pulled the bottle out of his pocket and tore off the cork covering it. Throwing the dagger on the ground, he dumped blue flames on the dragon's scaly feet. Dorath yelped in agony and jumped back. Nail scooped some more fire, snatched his dagger, corked the bottle, and sprinted out of the cave.

Once outside, he hurriedly tied the pack onto Jareli securely, jumped on, and dug his heels into her stomach. Jareli neighed and broke into a run. Nail rode straight without looking back for ten full minutes. Then he stopped to eat. Lighting the lantern with some of the blue fire, he dined on fruits and dried keblah jerky. All of the sudden, there was a rustling in the bushes. Nail froze, wondering what it could be. It could be one of Valar's spies, or maybe he was surrounded by an assembly of Valar's army. Or it could be a rabbit for all he knew.

He stood up slowly and crept up to the bush. He looked over it. There, on the ground, was a little green snake. Nail sighed, relieved, and sat back down. There he decided to stay the night. He finished his dinner and went fast asleep.

He awoke later to the cheerful sound of chirping birds. The sky was a strong, cloudless blue. Nail sat up and brushed the twigs out of his brown hair. It was a perfect August day in Aradei. That is, until the Dorlfyn army dropped by for a visit.

Nail had just finished packing his belongings when they came. He looked up to find he was completely surrounded by Valar's army. He jumped on his horse, ready to fight or die trying. He snatched his dagger out of his boot. As he held out the knife, he noticed these men were not there to kill. They were planning on capturing him, just as they had kidnapped his mother. Yelling furiously, he nudged Jareli forward. The men stood their ground and unsheathed swords. Jareli stopped so suddenly that Nail almost toppled off.

"Give it up boy. We will not harm you...fatally," the nearest soldier said, baring his yellow teeth in an evil grin.

Nail looked around. The men were closing in on him. He would have to jump over them. He backed up Jareli a few feet. Then he nudged her sharply. Jareli whinnied and started towards the men. "Please jump", thought Nail desperately. "Please don't stop!"

As if Jareli had heard his meager prayer, she leapt clear over the warriors and trampled down the 's first thought was to go straight to the camp, but, as the warriors of Valar were all taught the secrets of telepathy, they would immediately tell Valar the location of the rebellion camp as soon as he reached it. He'd have to outrun them. He looked back. Five men were on his trail, riding mustangs. He zigzagged through-out the forest until finally, he lost them.

Nail looked around. He had no idea where he was. He rode around anxiously, searching for something familiar. He got so caught up in seeking he nearly ran over a hermit.

The man sat cross-legged on the forest floor. He was a small, old man with wispy hair cropped up slovenly. His eyes were closed as he meditated peacefully, acting as if he did not realize Nail was there. Nail just stared at him in amazement; he had never in his life seen a hermit before.

"Uh, sir? Do you happen to know where the, er, rebellion camp is?" Nail stammered hesitantly.

The man seemed to have not heard him. He was about to leave when the man spoke.

"Why do you ask, child?" the hermit had an old scratchy voice.

"My-my family is there. I need to bring something of great importance to them. It is essential that I got there as soon as possible.

"What is this trinket you carry?" the man asked, eyes remaining closed.

"It is a bottle of blue flames from the dragon, Dorath. I was sent to collect it the previous night by my father." Nail replied warily.

The hermit's eyes snapped open." You have what?"

"Blue flames" Nail stuttered, slightly defiant as he clutched the warm bottle in his pocket.

"Right. You are on your quest for manhood, am I correct?"

"Yes"

"Follow me. I believe I know of this camp you speak of," the hermit said, standing up laboriously.

"I do not even know your name," Nail pointed out coldly.

"Oh, please excuse my impoliteness! I am Anwar. I come from the town of is your name, child?"

"I am Nail, son of Iragon. I was born in the village of Ashynta. My father leads the rebellion to restore King Roycell to the throne of Aradei," Nail introduced.

"Ah. You are the son of Iragon? He is a wise, gracious man. You are very lucky to be his son," Anwar commented dryly." Now follow me, Nail son of Iragon. I know precisely where your campsite is."

He hobbled off to the west. Nail followed on Jareli. Within minutes they arrived at the busily stirring encampment. Iragon, who had been pacing around the grounds fretfully, rushed up to Nail eagerly. Nail turned around to find that Anwar had disappeared.

Did you get it son?" Iragon asked anxiously.

Nail leapt lightly off of Jareli, landing lightly in the hard ground. He reached into his pocket and took out the vial. He held up the bottle proudly in the air, his hand glowing bright blue. The fire danced jovially, the reflected light moving along with it.

I am proud to be your father, Nail. We must have a banquet in honor of this occasion." Iragon congratulated, smiling warmly.

Nail grinned proudly as they walked side by side, father and son, to the tent nearest to them.

THE END