“I suppose someone sent you here to kill me?” I sneer, my brow arching defiantly. “They must be terrified of me if they can't even face me themselves.” I pause, drawing in a deep breath. “And to send six of you? They must be absolutely terrified of the chaos they think I can unleash.”
“You have the Realms whispering.” Death casually walks over. “Some say you are here to burn the lands, the people, destroying us all after what they saw in the battle games. Some say…” hepurposely drags out the last word, cocking his head to the side as leans against the bookshelf, “a Deskyiara?”
“And what would it matter to you? Would you still try and kill me if I said I was a Deskyiara?” I lean forward, slowly lacing up my shoe.
“We will kill you either way.” One of the men standing in the doorway with thick, grey curls that hit his chest speaks. “They want you dead either way.”
I tighten the last lace, drifting my eyes from my shoes to meet his intense glare. “And you don’t care about the curse that will forever haunt you once you do kill me?”
He spits on the ground. “There is no curse. Only you.”
The stones in my arm begin to pulse, radiating heat throughout me, and I know the dragons are wanting to fight. I can feel their rage at these men.
No. I can do it myself.
I call out to my dragons.Rest, let me show these men what I am capable of.
My eyes shut, rising from my bed as it creaks under my weight.
“I will give you the chance to leave right now.” I glance between the men. “So you may live. If you stay… you will die in this room.”
The men grunt, hysterically laughing as I lick the bottom of my lip while a sly smirk forms. “As you wish.” I pause swiftly. “Before I kill you, Death, what shall I call you as I burn you to ash?”
He runs his tongue over his gleaming, white teeth and lets out a soft, amused laugh. “You may call me Death till your last breath, for I am the one who will end your life.”
My fingers flick, my palm radiating heat as a blazing fire beats against my palm. I widen my hands, feeling the ball of fire circle with a violent force of wind before I shove it through the air,blasting the man with the grey curls, burning him to ash within seconds.
The men pause for a split moment, their eyes widening at the sight of their friend’s remains as some of the ash floats in the air.
I blow a strand of my waves out of my face casually. “So, who’s next?”
The men exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.
With a collective roar, they lunge at me, their blades carving through the space where I stand.
I don't flinch.
I don't retreat.
I don’t fear.
I burn.
I reach out, grabbing the closest man. His auburn mohawk, which is braided across his scalp, is slowly being covered in ash by their friend I just burned. I grip the collar of his suit. His eyes widen in terror as my palms make contact with his flesh. He lets out a gurgling cry for help as heat pours from my hands. My handprint smolders against his neck, the fire consuming him, until his skin turns a dark coal, leaving nothing but smoldering ash to drift gently towards the ground.
A dagger goes for my head, the man with golden braids grunting as I grab the blade. Dark blood oozes from my palm, but I’ve already had my hand sliced, so I feel no pain.
I yank him forward, grabbing his neck as I fiercely look into his charcoal eyes. “I gave you all a chance to leave,” I growl under my breath, and within seconds, nothing is left but ash.
Death doesn’t move. He watches as he digs his dagger into the bookshelf.
Each carving sound sends an agitated shiver down my spine. I want to snatch it out of his damn hand.
The man with a shaved head and the sea markings along his scalp lunges towards me as the other two flee.
I take a step back, letting him trip over my boot as he slams to the ground, knocking himself out. I should burn him, but I’ll let the Gods decide his fate.
“Your turn?” I push the strands out of my face, watching Death gleamingly stare at me. “I will allow you to walk untouched.” I gesture towards the door.
