LIROIDS: SNAKE

Chapter Four: Fire and Faith

The march from Kindraloy to Tan was long, though Snake and Dragon did not travel as men do. They moved in silence, through shadows and fire, slipping past roads where armies gathered, through fields where peasants burned their own crops to deny them food. The land groaned beneath the weight of war.

Snake led them by the hidden ways Puma had once taught: through riverbeds that stank of ash, through ravines where serpents slithered, through caves where shadows seemed thicker than air. Dragon grumbled at the detours, his fiery hair catching faint glints of torchlight as he carried his great blade strapped across his back. He was an impatient man.

"We could march straight through their villages," he muttered one night.

Dragon was once like him, calm, swift, composed, and cautious. All that went out the window 400 years ago.

"Let them fear us. Let them see the shadows walking."

From his quiet talk with glass, he knew what was to come, but he kept it from the dragon for he was a reckless man. They had worked together for over 400years... he knew him better than anyone. Dragon would rather die than watch destiny unfold.

Snake's reply was soft, venomous. "Fear makes men desperate. Desperate men call on gods. We strike where they least expect, bleed them until their faith falters."

Dragon's grin widened. "And then we burn."

Snake said nothing, but his serpents stirred, hissing agreement in the dark.

The first blood was spilled in the valley of Evril, where Tan's priests traveled with caravans of holy fire. Torches burned with white flame, carried in braziers said to be lit by Tan of Tan himself. The people bowed as they passed, whispering prayers to Ciria, though their goddess was long dead.

All liroids knew how Evilside became a goddess and how Ciria willingly helped her do that, but to let her people believe otherwise was a wicked trick. She had always been a cunning wench.

Snake struck first. Shadows slithered into the camp, serpents sliding into tents and around ankles. The first scream came from a priest who collapsed, his throat blackened by venom. Another fell, his torch extinguished in the sand. Panic spread.

Then Dragon descended. His blade cleaved through wood and flesh alike, and his laughter thundered louder than the fire's crackle. He swung wide, scattering guards like leaves, his hair a mane of flame.

"Where is your god now?" he roared, his voice shaking the camp.

Some priests raised their torches, chanting prayers. The flames leapt higher, burning white, lashing out at Dragon's skin. He snarled but pressed forward, hardening his skin into dragon scales. He began slicing through the light with brute force.

Snake moved in silence, his daggers quick, his serpents coiling around throats, snuffing out voices mid-prayer. He slipped into shadows, reappearing behind men who thought themselves safe, his blades drinking deep.

By dawn, the valley was silent. The braziers of Tan lay overturned, their flames smothered in blood and ash.

Snake wiped his daggers clean. "Faith burns bright, but flesh dies easily."

Dragon spat, blood steaming on his lips. "Then let us strike deeper. Let us cut the king's heart from his chest."

The blood was not his, for he had probably bitten a victim's flesh clean. He watched as the dragon scales recoiled back into his flesh... he was clean of any flesh wounds, he indeed represented his name.

But Snake's eyes went elsewhere, watching the survivors who crawled away into the hills. "No. Let them run. Let them carry doubt to their people."

He spoke for the dragon would have smitten them with his blood thirsty sword. Sometimes he wondered who was really in command between them, for dragon sometimes behave like a hormonal teenager in heat.

News of the slaughter reached the crusader king within days. He stood in his war tent, golden armor gleaming, his sword leaning against the table of maps. His generals bowed their heads, their voices heavy with grief.

"Your Grace, the priests of Evril are dead. The braziers are extinguished. They say shadows fell upon them in the night... Liroids, cursed assassins of Cellok."

The men shivered in fear for everyone knew from the carnage that the Evil side must have sent her best...

The king's face was grim, his hands tightening into fists. "Snake and Dragon."

The king spoke the names they were all afraid to.

Noticing how fear started to grip his men, he thought of a way to solidify their resolve.

He turned to his men, his voice rising like fire itself. "They think shadows can smother the light? No. For every priest who falls, a hundred will rise. For every torch extinguished, we will light ten more. Ciria was slain, but Tan of Tan lives. His fire burns in us all!"

The soldiers roared, striking shields, voices echoing beyond the camp. Yet in the quiet after, when the cheering faded, unease lingered. Shadows had reached their priests. If even holy flame could be snuffed out, what else could fall?

The crusader king sensed it; he needed to do more for fear spread like a plague, and if you allowed it to take root, it would devour them whole. He would not only lose his army, but he would lose his kingdom, and Tan would have a field day doing god knows what to them. He shivered at the thought, brushing it away like a pest. He lifted his sword high, fire dancing along the edge. "We will not break. Not to shadow. Not to assassins. Not to Evilside herself."

But in the back of his mind, a whisper grew: doubt.

For he was neck deep into this plot and could do nothing but press forward.

In Doomsany, Queen Dark received word of the victory. She sat on her throne of black iron, Scream veiled at her side.

"The priests are slaughtered," a messenger said, trembling. "The braziers extinguished. Snake and Dragon carve through Tan's faith like knives through flesh."

Dark's lips curved in cruel pride. "The goddess will be pleased."

Those two were indeed the best of all liroids combined, she thought to herself.

Scream tilted her head, her voice muffled and dreadful. "Faith bleeds slowly. They will raise more priests, light more torches. Faith is a weed... it grows back unless the root is torn free."

Dark's eyes glimmered. "Then we burn the root."

That was the part that interested Dark the most, but all scream could think of was the aftermath.

Glass, far away in her chamber of crystal, saw the slaughter unfold in shards of light. She saw Snake cloaked in serpents, Dragon aflame in fury, and dragon scale. She saw priests burn, soldiers scatter, doubt spread like smoke.

But she also saw Trina in Kindraloy, clutching Shiver as the mark glowed brighter on his small arm; his powers were too strong for him... she sighed. Blaming the snake for mixing with a forbidden bloodline was too late; she wondered how she could help. Then she saw Flame's laughter as he set a stable ablaze, Fury whispering to children who turned their knives on their parents. She saw Passion walking into a temple of Tan, kneeling before the fire.

Her breath caught. "Passion…"

The crystals shattered. She fell to her knees, blood on her lips. "Every shadow carries its end."

The next strike came at Tan's fortress of Meridan, where the crusader king had stored weapons and grain. Snake and Dragon moved under the cover of the storm.

Snake slipped through cracks in the walls, serpents slithering through keyholes, uncoiling around guards' ankles. He was silent, death unseen. Doors opened for him, locks turned at his touch. He poisoned wells, cut throats in silence, spread terror like smoke.

Dragon stormed the gates, fire bursting from his blade, laughter booming as soldiers rallied to meet him. He cut through them in arcs of blood and flame, his voice a roar of defiance against their prayers.

The fortress burned. The granaries collapsed in ash. The soldiers fled, faith wavering.

But when the smoke cleared, Dragon stood bleeding, burns lacing his skin where holy fire had kissed him. Snake bound the wounds with strips of cloth, his face unreadable. He loved to let himself bleed because the pain brought him comfort.

"You fight too loudly," Snake muttered.

"You fight too quietly," Dragon growled. "We are brothers of shadow and flame. Together, none can stand against us."

Snake's serpents hissed as if in agreement.

"Why bind them when they could heal in a second?"

"We are not barbarians," snake replied. "Why allow yourself to get hurt when you have scales for protection?".

Dragon walked away and sat far from him, "Do not ask a question for which you have the answers to".

He looked pained.... " I am sorry," he said to him and continued to patch him up. "We can have the wild pig I hunted earlier for dinner after this". Dragon gave a rueful grin. He was always a sucker for wild grilled meat.

In Tan's capital, the crusader king stood before the altar of Ciria. He stared at the empty pedestal where once her idol had stood, torn down by Evilside centuries before.

He whispered, "Ciria, if you live, give me strength. If you are gone, let Tan of Tan grant me fire enough to burn the shadows from the world."

The flame on the altar flared white, a sign, or perhaps only his hope. He lifted his sword, resolve hardening. "If shadow spreads, then I will be the sun."

His kingdom depended on his victory, and he was determined not to let them down.

Snake and Dragon stood on a hill overlooking Tan's heartland. Fields stretched below, soldiers marching in columns, priests lighting torches that flared against the dark.

Dragon's grin was fierce. "One more strike, and their faith will crumble."

Snake's gaze was cold, thoughtful. "Or it will burn brighter."

Dragon's laughter rolled. "Then let it burn. Fire dies in ash. But shadow… shadow endures."

Dragon was a wise old fool, but even the wise were not always right.

"Let us rest for tomorrow, a great battle awaits."

Dragon's words brought him greater fears..."What would have happened if Ciria had not been in the forest that day?"

Snake also pondered on the same questions as all the other liroids. But that was all in the past now. "They had met and that's that".

"Ciria has always been a trickster...maybe a fox," the dragon spoke angrily. "She must be the reason for this curse," he said, looking troubled.

"If only I were there that night...."

"Hmmm... if only" snake spoke the words out loud before he could stop himself.

"So... the hard-skinned snake was as emotional as we mere mortals," he spoke in mockery.

Snake laughed hard at the joke; it was normal for other pure-bred liroids like themselves to be looked at as heartless. But everyone, immortal or mortal, had a beating heart.

"It's nice to hear you laugh once in a while, dear old friend."

"Yes... " he spoke with sincerity.

"Soon, snake... it would all be over soon," Dragon spoke with strong conviction, if only he knew what the future held.

"You should rest", the snake replied

"You should also rest, snake... I want you in full form for tomorrow."

"When have I ever been caught unprepared?!"

Dragon laughed as he made his bed. He looked happy and at peace... it had been long since he ever had peace. He was glad of that. They had been through a lot together.

"Thinking too much will not solve all your questions... just let it flow, then maybe you will find the solution"

Snake shook his head in disbelief, "I think what you meant to say was... Don't fight your fate."

"Yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night." Dragon fell asleep after he had spoken those words to me.

Dragon turned around after a while to look at his friend, who did not notice him... for his friend was in deep thought. He closed his eyes then.

Snake looked east, toward Kindraloy, where his family waited. Toward the future, Glass had seen but not spoken aloud. His heart twisted.

The war of fire and faith had only begun. And already, the world trembled.