The world stopped for a moment. Pain and pressure left. The sword was pulled out of Mila’s chest, he clutched his wound, suffocating. Air left Arin as well, he was going to die if she continued to sit there.

           Mila whispered something, smiling. Croun shouted and plunged the blade into Mila again. Mila wheezed trying to gasp for air. His chest stopped rising and falling. His hands went limp, fingers curled in a relaxed position.

            “Mila!” Arin screamed. “Mila!” Croun wiped the blood off his sword. He stepped over Mila, approaching Arin. She was too weak to fight. “He was your best friend! How low are you to do such a thing?!”

            “Enough. The king is dead. Now I can take the throne rightfully.” Croun shook his head, standing in front of Arin. “Witness the rise of your new king, Arin. I rule now, bow your head to me.”

           She remained still. Anger pumped through her chest. Kin shoved her forehead against the floor, forcing her to grovel.

           Mila . . . Her thoughts wandered to all of the things he did. He was mean, cruel even, but he was just scared. Now his cause for anger killed him. I’ll make you pay, Croun.

           Unconsciously, Arin’s hands lit up in flame. Kin shrieked, stumbling away from Arin. Croun tilted his nose up, disgusted by her resistance. She managed to stand, knees wobbling, arms motionless. If she could summon white fire, she would win.

            “She’s desperate to die,” Scolo muttered.

            “Give her a sword, I want to be the one to kill her.” Kin handed Arin her sword. Croun continued to speak, “I’ll make quick work of you then.”

           Just like the duel from a few days ago. Can I win this time? Arin grabbed the handle, pulling it away from Kin. The cloaked Other gave Arin some space to fight.

            “Arin,” a voice rang in her mind. “We will give you strength. Have the courage to finish this fight.”

            I’ll finish this. As if someone was possessing her body, energy returned.

            “Soon, you’ll be put out of your misery like Mila.” Croun readied himself, aiming his sword at Arin.

            “You don’t deserve to say his name,” Arin whispered.

            “What did you say?”

            “You don’t deserve to say his name!”

            Arin charged, pulling her sword back for a quick thrust. Croun foresaw her attack, positioning his blade for a counter. Arin focused on the black and red metal, any careless move would result with death.

           She swung her sword vertically, slamming the thin metal against Croun’s long sword. Sparks flew as the two began to push one another over. Snarling, Arin mustered her strength to hold her ground.

           Strength fading, arms ready to give out, she stepped back. Croun grumbled something, lunging to Arin. He pulled his sword back, preparing a simple thrust.

           Staying defensive, Arin and Croun locked swords again. Her arms quivered, for a moment she watched the blood roll down her muscles, dripping onto the floor.

            I have to stay strong. I need more strength.

            Arin threw herself away again, preparing for another strike.

            She angled her sword into a proper defense position. Croun was upon her again like a lion hunting a gazelle. He changed his attack, jumping into the air. The red fur on his helmet waved as he leaped above Arin. Tip of his weapon was aimed down, ready to pierce her chest. She changed her defense, holding her sword above her head.

            The two weapons clashed, sending more horrible tingling throughout her body. Her ears rang, pain slightly returned. Croun was too strong for her.

            I’m not ready to die . . .

           Croun pulled his sword back, giving Arin a short second to regain her focus. She moved away from him, wheezing. Doubled over, Arin lost focus of the battle.

            “Pathetic!” Arin looked up at Croun right as his foot slammed into her chest. She fell back, holding her side. Chest heaving, sweat and blood covered her face. “The prophecy promised great warriors of unimaginable strength! This—this is what they were given?”

           Croun circled the fallen Arin. She squeezed her eyes shut, rolling onto her side.

            “How sad. How stupid. How stupid are the Crimsons to rely on a little girl to end a war? A mere lowborn that doesn’t even know why we fight.” He was silent but his footsteps continued to swim around Arin. “To think that I deployed so many valuable lives to find someone as weak and useless as you. Plaque Reader, Child of Destiny, orphan. No one wants you.”

            Again, silence.

            “It makes sense why you were abandoned. Nobody wants a monster that is destined to conquer a kingdom. You don’t deserve to live.”

            “Then kill me,” Arin blurted, speaking quickly.

            “Oh, I will. I want you to suffer first. Suffer for the times you delayed my conquest. Can’t you see, Arin? We would always win, the Crimsons never stood a chance. Their rebellious behavior caused them this war. I am putting them back into place.”

            Arin released a groan, her injuries throbbed.

            “And Mila, oh what an idiot! I warned him about this, he never listened! He should have killed you while he had the chance!” A shadow hand lifted Arin off of the floor, holding her in front of Croun again. Arin mustered the strength to open her eyes, hoping that she wasn’t crying. “The Children of Destiny are monsters. All five of them. Once I conquer the Crimsons I will hunt the remaining down and force them to bow to me. I would suggest that you should surrender but I doubt you’ll do such a thing. You’re one of truth, not loyalty.”

            “You know nothing,” she whispered, “nothing about me.”

            He was quiet, pacing around her again. “Kin, who is it we are here for?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

            “Mila and his generals, sir.”

            Croun stopped by Arin’s side, laughing. “I do wonder if the Abyssals have defeated them already. It would sure do me a favor.”

            “I cannot check, the energy in this room is too great.”

            “Don’t fret. Soon, the battle will be over and the war will end. Then the resistance will be crushed.”

           I need more power. She tightened her fists, focusing on white fire.

            “Focus on the spiritual energy around you. Can you feel energy being absorbed into you? You will have your fire absorb it and it will be more powerful.” She remembered Anolum’s instructions, trying to pull the invisible energy to her. Eyes closed, an unknown strength filled her body. More than she could imagine, it was almost too much to handle.

            Focus. You need as much as possible.

            “Your Highness, something is wrong,” the Abyssal snarled, “the energy in this room is growing, I feel my strength leaving.”

            “What?!” The Others faced Arin. “Are you the cause of this, Arin?”

            She released a deep breath, lifting her head to Croun. Arin summoned her fire, burning the shadow hand. Croun screamed clutching his right hand, falling onto a knee. Arin was released, landing on the floor clumsily.

            “W—white fire!” Kin gasped. Arin looked at her flaming hands. The intense heat did not gnaw on her skin. Her clothing was unaffected by this heat as well. It was hers to control.

            “Abyssal! Kill her!”

            The scorpion rushed forward, pincers ready to crush her. Arin aimed a palm at the Abyssal, focusing her fire to the center of her hand. The white flame was unleashed. There was no sound as the beautiful ember flew forward.

           Fire engulfed the Abyssal. It screeched, flailing itself around. Its howl did not cease, not until it disappeared, now black smoke. The Others were still, petrified by what they witnessed.

           Arin stared at the three, would they dare attack her?

           What was going through their minds?

            “Scolo, Kin!” Croun snapped, “attack!”

           The two were silent.  Scolo shook his head, “no way. I’m one for hurting Crimsons but this—no way.”

            “Um, yeah . . . this is too much for us.”

            “I came this far only for you two to back out?!” Croun sheathed his sword, focusing dark lightning in his hands. “I refuse to lose now!”

           Arin released a short burst of white fire at her foe. Croun defended himself with a strike of lightning, beginning to circle Arin. Repeating her technique, she fired burst after burst of white flames. Using violet lightning or ice, Croun protected himself.

           Croun threw his arm to the side, hurling spears of ice at Arin. Almost mimicking the motions of summoning a shadow monster, Arin lifted her hands, palms facing Croun. This technique created a shield of fire in front of her.

           The ice melted, Croun cursed. He lunged forward, armor rattling. Lightning glowed in his hands. Arin met her foe, preparing to release fire into his stomach.

           Arin attacked before Croun. Her combustion struck his chest, causing him to scream and throw himself out of the way. Arin halted as Croun tore his melting armor off of his body.

           Kin and Scolo rushed to their king’s side. Kin shifted into his beast form. “We’ll protect you, sir!”

           Scolo shifted into his mini dragon form. The two beasts glared at Arin, waiting for something to happen. Arin prepared white fire in her hands, aiming her palms at the two.

           Kin moved in front of Scolo, releasing orange flames from his small mouth. White fire countered the weak attack, suppressing his attempt of hurting her.

           Scolo leaped over Kin, his own spew of embers coming from his scaled mouth. Throwing her other flaming hand above her, alabaster fire protected her. The shifter roared as part of his body was scorched. He crashed behind her, human once more, holding his stomach.

           Kin and Croun rushed to Scolo, both moving at a slow pace. Arin allowed them to reunite, creating an easier target to hit.

           Croun summoned lightning at his fingers, standing between Arin and his weak generals.

           Arin prepared fire in her palm, trying to create a fatal flame. Victory swelled in her chest, this was it. Croun released his lightning when fire began to charge to him. The two elements whizzed to their enemy. Unknown energy continued to fuel Arin’s fire, giving it more and more power.

           Time was slow, the ember and lightning making their way at a dawdling pace. Sweat and blood dripped down her forehead, into her eyes. She remained still, focused on her enemy. The fire blocked her vision, but she knew that he would not dodge.

           Is this it?

           Releasing a relaxed heave, the two elements made contact. There was a loud explosion when they collided. Arin stood her ground, she would not fail. Not with so much at stake.

           Hair whipping behind her from the force, she could only imagine what Croun was feeling.

           Both attacks vanished at the same time, extinguished of energy. Croun was on his knees, gasping for air.

            “Fall back, fall back!” Croun cried, scurrying to his feet. The Others hurried to the door. Croun was limping, Scolo could barely walk, Kin had to drag them along.

           Arin growled, chasing after them. Her legs were moving at an incredible pace, once more she felt the spirit give her strength. She would not let them leave without a lesson.

           Arin caught up to Croun, tackling him. He let out a scream as Arin pinned him. Knee digging into his back, one of her hands held the rim of his helmet, the other kept his right shoulder pinned.

            “Your Highness!”

            “If you ever come here again, I’ll kill you,” Arin snarled in his ear. “How does it feel to be inferior to this monster?”

           Croun summoned a shadow hand behind her. She was pulled off, thrown back a few feet. The Others helped their king stand, making their way to the door.

           Arin stood as well, targeting the three. She would not let them get away unharmed.

           A white ring appeared around Arin. Tile sizzled as ghostly fire rose from the perfect circle. The Others stopped, facing Arin. She narrowed her eyes at Croun, ready to release the fire.

           Above her there was a roar. Floating over Arin was her fire in the shape of Dargon. Majestically, the flames hovered above, giving her more confidence. The serpentine fire charged, the phantom Dargon released another roar.

           Croun summoned a shield made of shadows, protecting himself and his generals. Her fire slammed into it, creating a bang that rattled the chandeliers.

           Arin continued the attack, she would not let up. Not now.

           Goodbye, Croun.

           Her fire, the ring, vanished when she lowered her hand.

           Croun and his Others remained standing, cowering behind the shield. Kin pushed the doors open, pulling Scolo and Croun outside. She let them leave. At the doorway, she watched the three teleport away.

           The shadows around the hallways disappeared. Did the attack stop? Was it over before they fled?

           Arin faced Mila, his limp body. She made her way to him, but her legs gave out. Muscles tight and cramping, Arin let out a groan.

           Mila . . . I’m so sorry. Arin released a sob, screaming into the stone. I’m sorry. Pain returned, so much throbbing flesh and open wounds. “Help!” she cried, “someone help!”

           There was no use in screaming, none would come. He would die, if he was even alive. It was her fault, she should have fought to protect him.

           She lost her breath, unable to calm down. Would she die here too? Die from loss of blood? From panic?

           Arin rested her head against the cold floor, head numb from pain. Ears ringing, heart thumping, she closed her eyes.

           Things began to fade.

           Was someone calling for her?

           She dared to not look, she was too weak.

           The world, the pain, it all began to disappear. With a final sigh, she was gone, awaiting someone to rescue her.