As the two fought I was overflowing with excitement and joy. From the first clash I could already see Flintwood's strength lost out to Jasper's explosive might. I had heard stories about God's Chosen. I knew that only some of the most worthy champions hand selected by the royal family can awaken the powers of their hearts flame.

I've heard of the great deeds that the people who acquired the power had accomplished. Their tails are written of in books and sung in song. It all seems like a fairytale come to life but it's true. Before today I have never witnessed what a God's Chosen could really do. I did not know the true depth of the power they wielded. even now as I witness Jeffrey lay his life on the line to take down Flintwood I admit ignorance to the truth.

But now I see these are the people who you will find always on the front line. For generations, an untold number of such heroes have risen, have sacrificed all that they had, and known for a better tomorrow, for the sake of people like me. But what have I truly done for these people? what could I give that has not already been given. The best help seems to just be staying out of the way. In that way at least I need not be a burden for others.

But is that truly the right answer, to let them go out alone? Even the strong need assistance both kings and gods alike. As Flintwood and Jasper's battle raged on I saw Flintwood take lethal blows from Jasper. Only to just continue standing where he was with his arms raised high in defense. I saw as Flintwood lashed out only to have it all reversed on him and become pinned to the ground. When the end seemed near I felt relief because I thought the evil dead. Allowing me to escape this hells cape and live another day.

I looked on with hope but my delusions seemed to have fed the beast. It fed on hope just as it fed on Jasper's hand. To lose a limb is a small price to pay when fighting against such a creature. But Jasper lost more than a limb he lost himself to anger. So, when the baleful flames spewed out of his mouth I felt as though I was condemned to the furnace of the god of steam.

The rage in his heart could be felt all across my body. the pain was haunting it would leave scars on my soul long after I'm gone. As I suffered in that Hellfire I could barely breathe. Each breath was more difficult than the last. The hot air scorched my throat as it did my body. My hair ignited and it danced with the flames. This was true hell but, though I suffered for Jasper's actions I did not hold it against him. Jasper fought alone against something, not I nor any normal person could. A greater evil existed in this room to let it escape would put even more lives at risk.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

With renewed strength, Flintwood fought Jasper back. He pushed Jasper back with his blood spear. Each sweep Rose a tide of molten rock while his stabs boomed with the force of a mortar shell. It was magnificent and terrifying to watch at the same time. To see such powerful warriors battle with their lives on the line was breathtaking but to see your hero gradually lose ground was a depressing sight.

It seemed as though Flintwood was loved by the flame as he was able to restore himself within them unaffected by their presence. From the flames, he struck out with an unprecedented force that hummed with the fire like never before. I watched as Jasper was beaten down. I watched until I could not watch anymore.

Though I knew I did not have one I still believed that my heart flame ignited then and there. It made this inferno nothing more than an itch. It's allowed me to move once more what purpose as I scoured the burning remains of my Fallen coworkers for the grenades they had on their belts and strapped them to myself.

I do not know many heroes. I did not know what it took to become One. All I knew is that when Jasper was impaled on that spear all other thoughts ceased. I moved on instinct I moved fueled by feelings I acted to help other than that I did not think about anything. Despite consequence, despite my own safety all was rendered mute.

The load I carried was heavy not as heavy as the fear in my heart each time I took a step on the blistering ground closer to the living nightmare before me. But still my legs carried me forward despite the fear I felt because even my body new that though I should fear many things especially this I should not stay still in the face of fear.

Earlier I questioned what I should give how could someone like me possibly help people as powerful as the God's chosen. That answer was simple I just did not want to see it. To help them fight to end this never ending battle I need only give what everyone else did my life for the cause, for the betterment of everyone else. So that's a new generation can be born not knowing the despair or taste of battle.

A dry wheeze escaped my burnt lips it was a scream that could not be heard. But this was one I shouted with my soul it was my song I rode into battle with it was the war song of Godfrey Feron. With a pull of the grenade pin my song ended along with my life but I did not care because my end was brilliant it was a better end then I could have hoped for since it was the end of a man with the heart of a hero.