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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EVE OF BATTLE

There was once a flame.

As miniscule as the very hands from whence it came, barely a flickering light of a firefly amidst the bigger lights the world gave. Its orange waves remained for a brief period of time, only to extinguish so quickly it couldn't have made a difference to the child wielding it.

Nesryn stood away from the child, shielded by the bushes and late summer yet still warm wind brushing the coldness out of her hair. Apple tree bloomed nearby, its flowers red and white and leaves green, exact same to the coverage of gray cottages and homes further as far as woman's eye reached.

Focusing back to the fiery orange child standing by a tall man whose piercingly brown eyes assessed the child fondly, Nesryn had realised she had the same eyecolour to the tiny being trying yet failing to learn control to her powers. It was Nesryn, a beautiful girl whose icy blue eyes adorned the contrast of orange waves and skin like porcelain pale. Royal, she was indeed royalty.

Nesryn watched the helpless child as she tried to copy her father's doing, tried to focus hard enough so flickering of fire could tingle up her bare arms yet each spark she gave meant absolutely nothing for it died even before young Nesryn had managed to turn it into fire. Try after try, failure after failure young Nesryn did not give up no matter that it was quite obvious further trying will just be constant failure.

Just as she stepped forward, the man lifted up his daughter and hugged her, directing Nesryn whose form he had seen a look full of mercilessness and shame which sent shiver of pain down woman's heart. She gazed after the retreating man with utter longing, until the vision changed and she was no longer in peace.

Suffering, misery, pain.

Fire swallowing the homes even if stone made them, children with teary eyes crying for their mothers not even perceiving they were not there anymore. And on child, one child who watched her mother being taken away. One child who did not shed a tear for she believed she was much stronger than that.

Nesryn herself, walking through the fire and remaining intact, in hopes of finding her father before it would all be too late. Other inhabitants of her kind could not be as persistent when fire reached them yet her, she was something special.

Nesryn ran and ran. Over wreckage and ruin, fire and ash she ran to the very royal palace she had last seen her father. She pushed the door open, stepped into the darkness only to find utter emptiness. A figure sweeped by her, its cloak hit her face and its eyes rubies of red in the dark. She recoiled.

"Fire Maiden." The creature hissed, darkness sweeping over its clawed hand as its ghostly form approached Nesryn. She recoiled further yet no matter her struggle it touched her forehead just like it has happened to the grown up Nesryn it seemed so many hours in passing.

Memory after memory Nesryn watched her life unfold in front of her eyes, messy constellation of years often unconnected yet there. Brief and fading, each memory left as much as it could before something clicked in her mind.

And she awoke.

Stone was what made the spacious room, cold and gray just like a flickering memory in her eyes drowing in remembrance and confusion. Forgotten memories had hurled back, like a shimmering wall in pure starlight fading the moment Nesryn had all considered them.

Candle light flickered by her side, enveloped the wooden structures of furniture in its beautiful yellow shine as Nesryn, shaken and with heaviest of breaths leaving her parted lips, stood from the bed and blew off the candle.

Ashes ⇝LegolasWhere stories live. Discover now