The Inferno and the Lion

I carefully pour the boiling water into the wooden cup. I set down the teapot and watch the tea brew. I lean against the kitchen counter, dragging my fingers through my hair. I inhale sharply, but refuse to exhale again. I slam my fist on the counter, causing the rust-tinged cup to shake, nearly spilling the tea.

I grab it instead and march over to my bed. My eyes trail around the dark, lonely cave. The waterfall behind me creates a thunderous roar that masks all other noises, like the sharp hiss of spray or the rhythmic splashing of water against rocks.

I’ve been living in this cave hidden behind the serene waterfall for nearly twenty-four moons. The war between the tyrant of Kharathis was…indescribable. The traitor caught us all by surprise that night, but I’m mostly at fault because I foolishly led all of my friends to their deaths.

Since then, I have lived in fear.

Flashback

I slam my body against the large, wooden doors, the only thing standing between the traitorous tyrant and me, Ragnar Dasterian. I finally kick them down and march towards the blonde prince, who is sitting on his father’s golden throne.

“Demetrius!” I shout, unsheathing my sword.

The bright, crimson-eyed monster doesn’t even call upon his minions, nor does he use his dark magic against me. Instead, he claps his hands, as if I had finished an entertaining theatrical play for him.

“You were always the odd one out, my Inferno,” he sneers, continuing to clap. “I always knew you’d be the one to confront me.”

‘Heed my warning, creatures of claw and crown, of flame and flesh. The earth stirs with unrest, and the skies darken with what may come. If peace is not forged now, war will rise later, and it will spare no name, no bloodline, no realm.

‘Before you raise banners in unity, before you dare seal peace with words and wine, listen well. There will be a shadow amongst you. One who smiles as you speak of truce, who nods at unity, but whose heart beats only for ruin and power. A traitor who will walk with you, cloaked in a familiar face and trusted name. They do not bear the scent of an enemy; they wear your colors, eat at your table, whisper poison when no one watches. They will not strike with a blade, but with doubt. With a single word, they will break what takes an age to build.

‘Watch. Listen. Trust slowly. For not all danger wears a monstrous face…some wear yours.’

The Enchantress’s warning…It all suddenly fit. Demetrius was my friend–a brother my entire life. But somehow, he was able to make me trust him blindly. Perhaps it was because over the decade, I saw him in a different light.

It’s a shame that light had darkness within.

“This ends now, Demetrius,” I growl, pointing my sword at him. “Surrender before things get worse.”

The blonde sits up from his throne, walking down the three steps leading up to the thrones. I only focus on my sword, but I can notice it shaking.

“It’s such a pity it had to come down like this. After all, I’ve always admired your courage and bravery.”

His hand flies to my shoulder’s direction, but before he can even lay a finger on me, I swat his hand away and aim the tip of my sword at his chest again. Only this time, the sword’s tip was too close to him, as if it had opened the door for me to stab him right there. But I’m almost too hesitant.

Yet I should’ve ignored the weird feeling deep inside me.

Demetrius knocks the sword out of my hands, catching me off guard. I draw my dagger, but the blonde tyrant creates a weapon of his own, made of dark magic, which he can access because of the kidnapped creatures’ essences.

He swings the large rapier sword, the blade whistles, nearly biting deep into my shoulder, but by a miracle or some divinity’s doing, I dodge his attack. Our blades clash together, the sound sharp and loud, causing the shock to run through my veins. I push him back to catch my breath, my heart racing.

Demetrius and I circle each other, waiting for the other to attack first, like the lion waiting for its prey. Unfortunately for me, Demetrius resembles the predator. I run towards the crimson-eyed monster before he can pounce on me like a prey. My boots nearly slip on the floor, but I catch myself.

My breath comes short and quick. When his sword came down again, I caught it and pushed away, the metal screaming as it slid. We’re close again. I can see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched. But his lips stretch into a nasty sneer, as if he enjoys this or is toying with me.

It could be both. I can never tell with this Demetrius.

He goes for my side. I turn just in time, but the tip of his blade scrapes my arm. It burns, but I suck in a breath, ignoring the pain. Fear hit me then, cold and clear, but it keeps me standing. My hands slightly shake, and Demetrius notices. I hate the way he can see it so quickly.

He makes another quick move, trying to trick me. I don’t fall for it this time. When he steps in again, I push forward. Our swords lock, and for a moment, it was strength against strength, our faces inches apart.

I lose my footing.

Demetrius doesn’t hesitate for another minute. His sword slides through my rib. Time freezes. The world moves slowly. I even forget I have friends outside fighting for their lives. Every breath brought a new groan, a quiet, broken sound. The burning pain brings shivers down my spine as I fall on all fours at Demetrius’ feet.

My eyes are on the ground, but I know he was wearing a broad smile, watching me fight the pain as I clutch on to his rapier. I fight the urge to pull his weapon out, but Torin’s words suddenly echo in my ears.

‘Your wound will get worse if you take the weapon out,” he told me on a rainy night as he fixed my bandages.

‘I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,’ I assured him.

Torin, forgive me, but I must keep going. And this blade is in my way.

Without another falter, I pull the sword out of my ribs. Demetrius’ glowing eyes widen as I grab the front of his bloody, shredded cloak and pin him against the wall. My hands fly to his neck. My brows furrow deeper and harden. My fingers curl into tight fists around his neck, causing him to choke slightly.

A choke wasn’t enough as I tightened my grip around him.

“Do you enjoy seeing me in pain this much?” He chokes out, causing blood to spill from the corner of his lips.

“Ever since you killed all my loved ones,” I snarl, our noses only inches apart, “the only thing I prayed for was seeing you slowly dying.”

He wraps his hands around my wrists, chuckling softly. “Be careful what you wish for, my Inferno.”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore!” I shout, my claws piercing into his neck.

Blood paints my vision red as the rest becomes a blur.

End of Flashback

I twirl the teacup in my hand, staring into the void. I couldn’t remember much, but the leaders of the tribes banished me from the dragons’ den. Torin never returned, and the rest of my remaining friends lost contact with me.

I cradle warmth, sip slowly, the steam calming me.