The air outside Nathaniel's modest home buzzed with a palpable tension. A sharp, cutting breeze whipped through the quiet, carrying with it the promise of violence.
A formation of demon guards stood before the entrance like an unyielding barricade, their black armour glinting faintly under the overcast sky.
The insignia of Nathaniel, etched prominently across their chests, seemed to pulse with authority, but their faces betrayed no hint of emotion.
Despite their stony expressions, their fingers gripped their weapons with a white-knuckled intensity, a silent testament to their readiness for the fight they anticipated.
"Step aside," I commanded, my voice low and thrumming with barely restrained rage. The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a warning.
Purple flames licked at my fingertips, their flickering glow betraying the storm of power simmering beneath my surface. They begged to be unleashed, to erupt into a full inferno. "I don't have time for this."
The guard in the centre broke ranks, a towering figure with a jagged scar carving a path down his cheek. His gaze was cold, his eyes locked onto mine with the confidence of a man who had no intention of yielding.
"Our orders are clear," he said, his voice a deep growl that echoed the weight of his authority. "No one enters."
I squared my shoulders, letting my own authority bleed into the air. "I am Ciara, princess of this realm, and you dare to block my path?"
My voice cut through the tension like a blade, carrying with it the weight of my fury and the power I was on the verge of unleashing. Beneath the anger, frustration bubbled like a cauldron on the edge of boiling over. Every moment wasted here was one too many.
The scarred guard's lip curled in a sneer. "You may be a princess," he spat, his tone dripping with derision, "but our orders come directly from Sergeant Nathaniel. We don't answer to you."
His words were a spark to the fuse.
I stepped forward, flames licking higher around my hands, their heat radiating outward in waves
. "You answer to the crown," I hissed, my voice as sharp and unforgiving as broken glass. "And unless you want to be reduced to ash by day's end, I suggest you reconsider your allegiance."
For a moment, a flicker of unease passed through the line of guards. Their gazes darted to one another, silent questions exchanged in the tense air. But the scarred one barked out an order, his voice cutting through the hesitation like a whip. "Hold the line!"
My patience snapped like a brittle thread. "Fine," I said, my voice cold and final. "You had your chance."
The purple flames roared to life, coiling around my body like living serpents. The ground beneath me blackened with their heat. The first guard surged forward, his blade flashing as he swung for my neck.
I twisted, the movement fluid and effortless, and his sword cleaved through nothing but empty air. With a sharp upward motion, I sent a pulse of flames crashing into him.
The blast hurled him backwards, the metal of his armour glowing red-hot as he hit the ground with a dull, resounding thud.
"Still want to stand in my way?" I taunted, my voice low and dangerous, the growl of a predator cornering its prey.
The others surged forward in unison, their weapons gleaming with deadly intent. I met them head-on.
My flames erupted like a wild tempest, casting a malevolent purple glow over the battlefield. Steel clashed with fire, sparks dancing in the chaos.
The scent of charred metal and burning flesh filled the air, mingling with the acrid tang of blood. My movements were a blur, a combination of calculated strikes and primal fury.
One guard lunged, his blade slicing through the air with precision. I sidestepped, grabbing his wrist mid-swing.
My flames ignited instantly, consuming the metal of his gauntlet and searing the flesh beneath.
His scream was a sharp, piercing sound, and I shoved him aside, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.
Another came at me from behind, his axe descending in a deadly arc. I spun, catching the weapon with a barrier of fire.
The flames devoured the steel, melting it to slag that splattered onto the ground. Without pause, I drove my knee into his chest, the impact sending him sprawling.
"You're playing a losing game!" I snarled, turning to face the next wave.
The scarred guard was among them, his massive broadsword gleaming ominously. He swung with brutal force, the blade a blur as it arced towards me.
I dropped low, narrowly avoiding the deadly swing, and retaliated with a burst of fire that engulfed his weapon. The heat was intense, the metal deforming and melting in his grip.
His eyes widened in shock, but I gave him no chance to recover.
My fist, wreathed in flames, connected with his chest in a devastating blow, sending him crashing to the ground.
Blood splattered across the dirt as the fight raged on, the sticky warmth of it staining my skin. My flames grew louder, crackling with an almost sentient hunger.
These were seasoned warriors, hardened by countless battles, but they had underestimated me my rage, my resolve, and the depth of my power.
Each one that fell was a reminder of the reason I fought: for Aeliana, for justice, and for the vengeance Nathaniel had forced me to seek.
One of the guards, a young man barely out of his adolescence, hesitated. His hands trembled around the hilt of his sword, his eyes wide with fear.
For a moment, I paused, my flames flickering uncertainly. He was just a boy, unprepared for the ferocity of this battle. I wasn't here to kill mindlessly; I was here for a purpose.
I extinguished the flames around my hands and took a step towards him. "Run," I said, my voice softer but no less commanding. "This fight isn't yours."
The sword slipped from his grip and clattered to the ground. Without a word, he turned and fled, his footsteps fading into the distance.
The other guards faltered, their confidence visibly shaken. They glanced at one another, their resolve crumbling in the face of my unrelenting power.
I stood amidst the carnage, blood pooling around my feet and smoke curling into the air.
My breathing was laboured, my chest heaving, but my determination remained unbroken.
"Anyone else want to challenge me?" I demanded, my voice carrying over the battlefield like a death knell.
The remaining guards stepped back, their weapons lowering as the fight drained out of them.
I pushed past them without a second glance, my focus fixed on the house ahead. My body ached, the sting of a dozen small wounds gnawing at the edges of my resolve, but I forced the pain aside.
Aeliana was all that mattered now. She was close I could feel it, her energy a faint but unmistakable beacon.
As I reached the door, a rasping cough drew my attention. The scarred guard, bloodied and broken, struggled to push himself upright. His gaze met mine, defiance still burning in his eyes despite his condition.
"You… won't… find her," he choked out, blood staining his lips.
I turned slowly, the flames around my hands reigniting. "Then tell me where she is," I demanded, each word laced with fire.
He spat blood onto the dirt at my feet. "Go to hell," he hissed, his voice raw.
I stepped closer, the heat from my flames intensifying until the air shimmered with it. "Tell me," I growled, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "or I'll make sure you wish you had."
Before he could answer, a flicker of energy brushed against my senses. It was faint, fragile, but unmistakable. Aeliana. My heart hammered in my chest as the flicker grew stronger, guiding me towards the house.
"She's here," I murmured to myself, my flames surging brighter with renewed determination.
Without sparing another glance for the defeated guards, I turned back to the door. My boot connected with it in a powerful kick, splintering the wood and sending it flying open. The fight wasn't over not yet.
The shattered remnants of the door clattered against the walls as I stepped inside, the charred edges smoking faintly.
The interior was dimly lit, shadows pooling in every corner, but I could feel her presence weak and trembling, like a candle on the verge of snuffing out.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I pressed forward, each step heavier with anticipation and dread.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt wood and iron, mingling with something far more sinister. Blood. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the overturned furniture, the dark stains on the floorboards.
A struggle had taken place here, one Nathaniel's guards had likely tried to hide. My jaw tightened as I approached a door slightly ajar at the end of the corridor.
I shoved it open, the hinges groaning in protest. Inside, the faint energy I had been following pulsed stronger, drawing me to the far corner.