Taste of the Fire

Chapter 1: Felix

A Blizzard.

That's what she is. A beautiful dancing blizzard of blades cutting down anything in her path. I don't know when or how she learned to fight this way but she is violent with her fighting style. It's been three months since our last war against late king Areon and I'm still stunned by the fact that she would kill people and enjoy it. I'm still stunned by the fact that she would attack a downed king when he is already fleeing.

I knew Shea since childhood. We were the best of friends and always helped each other. She was a little bit older than me by a month, but she always let me feel like a big protector or hero for her. Back then I could feel the unusual aura she had, and the gradually increasing impulse of power she held. Her parents felt it too and for that, they abused her. Called her a witch and bolted her off into one room for four years. Whenever I went to her house, her parents would always drive me away from the entrance and every day, for a brief moment, I always heard snapping and screams of a young girl. Why was she punished for a talent many don't have was beyond me when I was younger. I tried getting help from bystanders who just watched the closed windowpanes listening to the cries, but none of them stirred. Now... anger rages inside me whenever I think about her helplessness.

I stormed out of my room early in the morning and went straight towards her door.

I pushed the doors open and yelled, "I have questions, Shea, and I need ans— are you drunk?"

Shea Reykian the Pyromancer. The most courageous queen of them all, the first one, in fact, to lead an army of her own and win. The one who controls fire like it is mere child's play and burns down entire lands with one swipe of a hand. The one who sends shivers down spines of people who she already fought was laying down on her couch in her absurd nightgown completely drunk.

"Shea!" I said.

Next to the furniture was probably the most impressive and simultaneously the most concerning thing I had ever seen: an entire barrel of ale licked empty. I sighed and rolled the barrel to the side so that she wouldn't hurt herself when she got up.

"Shea... what is this? You never drink this much," I shook her a little, "Are you awake?" No response.

I didn't get the time to look around her room when someone came knocking on the door.

A hushed voice spoke behind the door. "Queen Shea? Your royal presence is needed in the court. Queen Amaranda of Ceadora is being presented in the kingdom. She seems a little—bothered."

I grumbled and stepped out of the room finding a servant in her royal black uniform standing behind the door. "I don't think that Shea can even move from her couch. I will go and meet the queen."

The girl nodded and bowed, hurrying off to announce the castle of the arrival of the guest. I looked back on Shea and then reluctantly went back to my room to get dressed.

The Queen of Ceadora was standing in the middle of the throne room, capturing the eyes of anyone who passed. It was so simple yet beautiful at the same time. She looked like a bride with her dress so elegantly made. The frills draped around her as it pooled down beneath her feet. Her chest and her arms looked as if they were painted with thin white paint and her earrings were made of the finest pearls found in the seas of Ceadora. They glimmered from the sunlight pouring in from the tall openings where the glassless windows were.

I looked at her face and was stunned by the amount of delicateness and softness her facial features displayed. Her hair was pulled up in a flowing bun leaving golden stands peeking over her shoulder. Finally, on top of everything, there was the signature Tiara of Ceadora: the White Rose. A headdress made by everlasting white roses laced in between golden vines as strong as iron. If her ears had not been clearly rounded she might have passed for an elven queen.