"Be safe, Sai," Tai said, his voice steady yet tinged with concern. "I'll find you once Master has fully healed."
Sai nodded, his flames flickering faintly as he turned away. "Take care, Tai." With that, he summoned his fire, launching himself forward like a blazing comet. The wind howled in his ears as he raced toward his village, a growing sense of dread gnawing at him.
When Sai arrived, his heart sank. His village, once alive with warmth and laughter, lay in ruins. Homes were reduced to piles of ash and splintered wood. Villagers moved like shadows, their eyes hollow and clothes torn. Soldiers in red and yellow uniforms patrolled the streets, their whips cracking to silence the faint murmurs of the enslaved.
Sai's fists clenched as memories flooded back: the warmth of family, the laughter of friends, the sense of belonging. Now, only pain remained. His anger erupted like a volcano. With a roar, he unleashed a torrent of fire, hurtling toward the soldiers.
They turned, startled by the sudden blaze, but it was too late. Sai's flames surged forward, consuming everything in their path. The soldiers fought back, their swords gleaming in the sunlight, but Sai moved with unyielding precision. His fire danced around him, each strike driven by his fury and the pain of his people.
When the last soldier fell, Sai stood amidst the smoldering wreckage, his flames dimming as he caught his breath. Slowly, villagers emerged from hiding, their faces a mix of awe and fear. An elderly man stepped forward, his voice trembling. "Young boy… are you Sai?"
Sai turned, his gaze softening. "Yes. It's me."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. "He's alive…" "We thought you were dead…" "Sai has returned."
A woman stepped forward, tears streaming down her face. "You've freed us. Thank you."
But Sai shook his head. "I haven't freed anyone yet. Not until the King is dead." His voice carried the weight of his resolve. "I won't stop until he's gone."
The crowd fell silent. Years of fear under the King's shadow made the thought of rebellion feel like a distant fantasy.
Then a sharp voice cut through the murmurs. "Big words for someone who vanished when we needed him most."
Sai turned, his breath catching as a young woman stepped forward. Her dark hair was tied back, her patched clothes spoke of years of struggle, and her blade rested at her side, its hilt worn from use.
"Amal?" Sai's voice softened. "It's been so long…"
The girl narrowed her eyes, tilting her head. "Do I know you?"
"It's me, Sai," he said, taking a step closer. "Don't you remember?"
Amal's laugh was sharp, almost cruel. "Sai? Sai was weak. He couldn't stand up to a bully, let alone soldiers. And he definitely didn't throw fire from his hands."
Sai's flames flickered to life, illuminating his face. "Amal, it's me. I'm not weak anymore. I've grown stronger—strong enough to fight the King."
She crossed her arms, her smirk fading. "Stronger? Sai may have been small, dumb, and cowardly, but he wasn't stupid enough to take on an entire kingdom."
Sai flinched but stood his ground. "I'm not the same boy, Amal. I've seen things. Done things. I freed this village, didn't I?"
Amal studied him, her expression unreadable. Her gaze flicked to the flames curling around his fingers. "Maybe you are Sai," she muttered. "But if you think one fight makes you strong enough to take on the King, you're a fool."
Sai let his flames die down, lowering his hand. "Maybe I am. But someone has to fight back. Someone has to try."
For a long moment, Amal stared at him, her eyes a storm of doubt and old wounds. Then she turned away. "We'll see if your fire burns bright enough to survive."
Sai's voice followed her, calm yet firm. "Amal. Join me. We can do this together."
She froze, one hand resting on the hilt of her blade. "The village is freed, Sai. Do you think I'm going to throw my life away now?"
Sai stepped closer, his tone softening. "You've always wanted to be a hero, Amal. That hasn't changed."
Her bitter laugh rang out. "Things have changed, Sai. You've changed. So have I."
"No," Sai said quietly. "You haven't. Not where it matters."
Her eyes narrowed. "And how would you know that?"
Sai nodded toward her sword. "Because of that blade. You've been protecting this village for years. You're still fighting for them, Amal. That hasn't changed."
Amal hesitated, glancing down at her weapon. Her voice softened, the edge of bitterness fading. "I protected them because I had to. This village… it's all I have."
"And it won't be safe for long," Sai said, urgency creeping into his voice. "They're coming."
"What are you talking about?"
"Listen," Sai said, raising a hand. "The ground… can't you hear it?"
A low rumble vibrated through the air, faint but growing. Hoofbeats pounded the earth, accompanied by distant war cries and the metallic clatter of weapons. Amal's face paled.
"How…?" Her voice wavered. "You just beat them. How could they already know?"
"I don't know," Sai admitted, his flames sparking again. "But there are more—ten, twenty thousand, maybe more."
Amal took a step back, gripping her sword tighter. "That's insane. We have to run."
Sai caught her arm, his grip firm but not forceful. "We don't run."
Her glare was sharp. "Are you crazy? We can't fight them!"
Sai's flames flared brighter, casting an orange glow. "We have to. The villagers can hide. But you and I—we fight."
Amal stared at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "You mean you fight. I'm not crazy enough to throw my life away."
Sai's voice softened, a plea hidden within his words. "This village needs you, Amal. They've always needed you. And now, I need you too."
The rumbling grew louder, the sound of the approaching army pressing down on them like a storm. Finally, Amal let out a sharp breath, gripping her sword.
"Fine," she muttered. "But if we die, it's on you."
Sai smiled faintly, hope flickering to life in his eyes. "Then let's make sure we don't."