Fables of the Gods: The Knight of Misrule

Chapter •5• ~ Burden of a Burden

The sun was high in the sky when I realized just how much strain my newfound magic had put on me. My fingers trembled as I conjured another fireball, its roaring heat surging through me like wildfire. The force was almost too much to control, but I had to keep trying. With each attempt, the fireballs grew in power, shaking the very ground beneath us, leaving craters in the training field and sending echoes of thunder through the school grounds.

Onlookers had grown accustomed to the spectacle by now, their wide eyes watching in awe and fear as I unleashed magic that I barely understood. Every time the fireball left my hands, I felt a piece of myself go with it—draining, consuming, and relentless. Five times. That was my limit. After five fireballs, my body would give out, and I'd find myself gasping for breath, unable to stay conscious. It was a vicious cycle. I'd pass out, only to wake up moments later and do it all over again, driven by an unrelenting need to master this power that felt both foreign and familiar.

Professor Amari Bjorn approached me after my latest attempt, her face tight with disapproval. "Enough!" she ordered, her voice cold but laced with an undercurrent of concern. She strode forward, her boots sinking into the dirt, arms crossed over her chest.

"You’re killing yourself, Iccaris," she said sharply. "Your magic is sloppy, uncontrolled, and reckless. At this rate, you won’t last long if you keep this up. You're wasting your potential by being careless, and you're not even taking this seriously."

Her words stung, not just because of the reprimand but because she was right. I wasn't in control; the magic was controlling me. I swallowed hard and nodded, wiping the sweat and traces of blood from my lips. “I’m sorry, Professor,” I muttered.

She sighed, her frustration evident. “Dismissed, all of you!” she ordered the rest of the class, and one by one, they dispersed, casting lingering glances in my direction. The air around me was heavy, thick with the remnants of my magic. I could feel the heat still clinging to my skin, as though the fire wanted more.

As everyone left, Lily lingered behind, watching me with a furrowed brow. “You should stop, Iccaris,” she said softly. “You’ll hurt yourself. That magic is dangerous, and you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

I waved her concern away, trying to steady my breathing. “I just want to try something,” I insisted, stubbornly refusing to give in. I positioned myself in front of the target dummies again, my body aching, but my resolve stronger than ever. This time, I wouldn’t just throw out wild bursts of magic. I wanted control, precision. I wanted to prove that I could master this.

Focusing my energy, I summoned the fire again, feeling it coil in my chest before spreading to my fingertips. The flames were immense, flickering wildly as I fed them more and more of my magic. My hands shook as I tried to make it bigger, brighter, more powerful. The strain was unbearable, and I could feel the blood pooling in the back of my throat. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

"More," I whispered to myself, pushing my magic further, my vision beginning to blur from the effort. I could hear Lily and Kalliope calling my name, but their voices felt distant, almost drowned out by the roaring in my ears. The fire grew larger, crackling with intense energy, and just as it reached its peak, I did the unthinkable—I tried to suppress it.

"Now, make it small," I murmured through gritted teeth, forcing the raging inferno into a condensed form. The pain was immediate, like my insides were being torn apart. I coughed, and dark red blood splattered onto the ground. My knees buckled, but I held my ground, unwilling to back down.

"Iccaris, that’s enough!" Kalliope shouted, her voice filled with panic.

But I was already beyond hearing her. The fire had grown too strong, too wild to contain. I screamed in agony as I released it, sending the fireball hurtling toward the dummies. The sheer force of it tore the air apart, a booming roar echoing across the training grounds as it traveled with blinding speed.