Valiant

Chapter 54: In Hostile Conference

"Guards!"

Prince John's angrily anxious face screws into a knot at me as he grapples with his sword belt. Nora and I had taken him by surprise, striding into his room as if the gods themselves would not stand in our way.

"My prince," I sigh, raising my hands in surrender. "I do not come for bloodshed. Put down your sword."

"Kiss my ass. Guards!"

Pounding noises emanate from outside the door, which Nora has barred behind us by shoving the hearth's iron poker through the two gilded door handles.

"My lord prince," Nora cordially curtsies beside me, scowling beautifully at her former regent. "If it would please you to just listen for a second-"

"It would not!" Prince John roars, finally wresting his blade free of his sheath and lunging towards me. Reflex flings my torso to the side, narrowly missing a thrust that skewers the wall behind my head. Cold conviction grips me as I watch him tear the ruby sword free of the wall and stumble backwards. His blonde hair is plastered across his livid face, but he has regained composure.

His next series of strikes bite the golden chandelier over my head and the brazier to my left, knocking candles and coals onto the dry carpet, which sparks almost immediately into life, spewing brown smoke into the air. All three of us cough, and the prince strikes again. I weave around the sword one last time before the blade of that old, ruby sword lodges deep within the maple bed frame of his kingly four-poster. With one deft motion, I break his grip on the sword and fling the covers of his bed overtop of him, turning my attention to the blaze eating outward from the carpet. 

Nora comically tries stamping flames out while plugging her nose and watering at the eyes, and the shouts from outside grow louder. The soft iron poker bends slightly under the pounding force of the guard, and Prince John struggles blindly, cursing under his covers. I can't help but let out an insane laugh when I piece all of this together. Then, Nora's green eyes find mine, and suddenly my laughter is replaced with a healthy dose of terror.

Fire flickers beneath my skin, begging to join the newborn flames spewing clouds of corruption beneath us. Instead, I force the fire deeper within me, building a deep, burning core of raging magic in my stomach. The fire from the floor crawls toward me like a hound towards its quarry, biting deep into my flesh before disappearing into my body and leaving a peculiar, sticky feeling behind. Smoky craters stream a soft black luster, and the accusatory gleam in Nora's eyes fades to incredulity. 

"You bloody idiot, standing there and laughing."

"Hey now, I wasn't the one to start this fire," I shoot back, straightening my sword-belt about my waist.

"Gah!" The prince's steel breaks into our reverie with a quick flurry approaching my left. The sword slices to and fro, seeking flesh to bury itself into.

"Will you cut that out?" I roar, ducking another horizontal swing.

"Eat shit and die, Dawn Warden!" he shouts his not quite unexpected answer, wresting his blade free once more. He never saw Nora sneak up behind him, but when he thrusts forward, a foot intercepts his path and his blade stabs deep into the wooden floor of this spacious room. The prince recovers, and aims a backhand at Nora, but I drive my shoulder through his back, tumbling both of us to the ground.

Trapped beneath the weight of a muscular man in his armor, the prince squirms and curses, fighting desperately against my steel embrace. Squirming does him little good, although the sheer volume of his insults irritates my left eardrum slightly.

"Guards!" he crows.

"Open up!" voices shout.

"Shut up!" Nora screams, moving towards me.