Powerless in a New World

Chapter 8

"This is what it's like to be under fire!" Rusty teased Zorania, who was still swatting stones away and patting all over her body to put the fire out. Full of rage, she propelled the mega spear from her burnt hands at him, only to have him stop it in mid air. Rusty wagged his finger, "No, no, no. That's cheating." He joked through his growing fatigue. Sweat perspired from his skin as he forced himself to concentrate on controlling the motion and properties of dozens of stones, individually and without stopping for a second.

While he did this, Mychal, Percival, Walter, and Lydia hiked up the hill that led to the top of the valley. In front of them was a small village under a volcano. The home of the Pyronites. Or, at least it was. Scattered around the village were the bodies of dead Pyronties. The corpse piles didn't seem to end.

"They're all dead," Lydia said, giving up hope.

Mychal shook her head and pointed towards a castle-structure on the side of the mountain. "I doubt it. Remember, this tribe is responsible for the death of her mother. She must have one still alive for her amusement."

"It wouldn't be unlike her," Walter agreed.

The group proceeded to the castle only to prove Mychal's suspicions as correct. Restrained by vines was the bruised and cut leader of the Pyronites. His black hair was much thicker than the rest of his kind and he also had a great, bushy, black mustache.

"Halt!" Two Florites said simultaneously, pointing their spears at them. "We are the supreme guards of Queen Zorania's army. King Pyrone is our prisoner and you are trespassing!"

Percival, Lydia, and Walter got in fighting positions. Mychal, instead, stepped forward and faced the guards, who she heard mutter 'nihil' under their breath.

"Queen Zorania? The queen who killed the rest of her army just for her own gain? The one who doesn't value your lives, or even anyone's lives."

"Lies! The nihil lies!" They shouted.

"Look around you. It's a bloodbath. Queen Zorania doesn't care about anyone but herself. But you don't have to follow her anymore. You don't have to kill anyone and you don't have to worry about getting killed because we aren't going to fight you. We just want to stop Zorania before she massacres everyone in her path. Including you."

The spears trembled in the guards' hands as they looked down in shame. Suddenly, one of them dropped their weapon and broke into tears. "It's true," she cried. "I was hand selected by her to be trained as a supreme guard when I was just a kid. I never saw my parents, again. Everytime I begged to see them, she'd strangle me," the poor guard whimpered, dropping to her knees. "I never asked for this life. I'm tired of fighting and you're the first person to ever give me a choice like this." Mychal reached out to the guard and offered them a hug.

"Traitor!" the other guard yelled. "The queen shall have your head for this." He lifted his spear, ready to strike, only to have Percival ram into him with his cracked shield, knocking him out.

"She's going to kill me for this," The guard cried.

"She's not," Mychal reassured her. "We'll have the Pyronite king set her ablaze.."

The guard paused and looked at the fiery king. "He's gonna kill me for what I did," she cried, instead.

"Don't worry, if he tries anything, he'll be next." Everyone walked over to the king, whose body was being strangled by vines. He was cleary subjected to multiple beatings and no way Zorania was done with him. "We need your help stopping Zorania," Mychal solemnly said.

"Why should I help bunch o' nihils and errats?" King Pyrone said in a crusty, smoker voice. "Walter? You're with them? To think I actually respected you."