Free Prince's Fire by Amy Raby

Rayn.
    â€œSome of them,” said Rayn. “We have our own stories as well.”
    â€œTell us one,” blurted out a drunken lieutenant. Someone punched him in the arm, and he added, “If it pleases Your Highness.”
    Celeste shifted within his arms. “I’d love to hear an Inyan story.”
    Rayn shrugged. “All right. Let me think.” His brow furrowed, and after a moment he began. “In days long past, when the gods lived on the islands, the Sage was walking along the beach. He came upon a man who was throwing stones into the sea. ‘Good fellow,’ said the Sage, ‘who are you, and why do you throw stones into the sea?’
    â€œâ€˜O Lord, my name is Drav. I have sworn vengeance upon the sea,’ said the man. ‘Yesterday the waves drew back so far that they bared the seafloor. My people ran out to scoop up the fish and crabs that lay helpless on the wet sand. But the treacherous sea returned in a great wave and drowned every one of them. I survived by clinging to a piece of driftwood, but what use is my life now, when everyone I loved is dead? I will destroy the sea for its crime. I will fill it up, stone by stone, until it is no more.’
    â€œThe Sage said, ‘You cannot fill up the sea. There are not enough stones in the world.’ Drav replied, ‘So long as stones remain, I shall throw them.’
    â€œDays later, the Sage returned and found Drav building a bonfire. ‘What now?’ asked the Sage. ‘Have you run out of stones?’
    â€œâ€˜There were not enough,’ said Drav. ‘I have decided to burn the sea. I will boil it away until it is no more.’ The Sage sighed. ‘You cannot burn the sea,’ he said. ‘The water will extinguish your fire.’ The man piled more sticks on the fire and said, ‘I will build the fire so hot that the sea cannot extinguish it.’
    â€œDays later, the Sage found Drav in the highlands, where he leached the poison from wolfsbane roots. ‘Have you given up on boiling away the sea?’ asked the Sage. ‘Yes,’ said Drav. ‘My fire was not hot enough. I will poison the sea.’
    â€œâ€˜You cannot poison the sea,’ said the Sage. ‘You will only kill the fish.’ ‘I will make my poison stronger, until it is strong enough to poison the sea,’ said Drav. ‘I am worried for you,’ said the Sage. ‘Can you not forgive the sea for its sins?’ ‘I cannot,’ said Drav. ‘My kin are dead, and my heart has turned to stone. Rage boils within me like a great fire.’
    â€œâ€˜Stand, Drav,’ commanded the Sage, and Drav stood. ‘If your heart has turned to stone, be stone.’ Drav’s limbs and body turned to stone. His shape changed, and he grew and grew. Where once Drav had stood, a mountain now towered over the island. ‘Let your rage boil within. Quench the sea, if you can.’ Drav erupted in fury, spewing fire out his top. He flung boulders into the ocean. Poisonous gases poured forth from cracks in his rocky surface. Now centuries have passed, and Drav’s rage continues to burn and sometimes to boil over. But he has yet to destroy his mortal enemy, the sea.”
    â€œExcellent!” cried the captain, and they raised their glasses in a toast. Then the lieutenant began a new story, a true one about a fleet action they’d been involved in some years ago.
    Rayn did not seem much interested in this story, so Celeste took the opportunity to snuggle closer. He was big and warm, and her body fit nicely into the crook of his shoulder.
    Rayn turned to her and spoke softly. “I believe you lied to me.”
    She bristled. “About what?”
    â€œYou said you wanted a loveless marriage.”
    â€œI didn’t say I
wanted
that. I said I would accept it.”
    â€œYou are not so passionless as to accept a marriage of political convenience,” said Rayn.