Beautiful Tragedy

Sixty-Seven

                    Kayleigh POV
                         *The Flame*

None too soon the burning stops, and the smell of burning skin disappears as if it was never there.

I couldn't distinguish one breath from the next, the vision changes, and I'm on my hands and knees-panting in the floor.

Gasping for breath I notice there's no burn marks on my skin-clothing still intact.

"Again." I hear a deep voice command, my head snaps around glaring at the man.

I was somewhere else- someone else.

It was easy to determine where I was, as the body I now inhabited stood up. There was no denying I was in the training arena in the Polis tower.

It looked the same but different. The walls were bare of any portraits of the previous commanders, in their place was various weapons instead.

I was barely on my feet for a moment before pain bursting from my side had me on my knees again.

"Again, Calla!" The voice barks out.

Calla?

That must be who I am here, but who was she?

Grunting I turn over into my back, glaring again at the dark skinned man before me. His own eyes hardening just the same.

Jumping back to my feet I move into a defensive position. The stranger begins circling me- and I follow each of his movements before launching into attack.

This was nothing like the sparring I had done with the young ones when I was in Polis. This flamekeeper was ruthless, never tempering his blows. He seemed intent on hurting her-me, and he did.

I felt every blow against her skin, even when her blood began to decorate the floor, she kept on going-not giving up.

On and on it continues, my muscles ache and burn, blood flows freely from each wound. Just when I thought this would never stop until one of us was dead, I manage to get the upper hand.

Bringing the flame keeper down to his knees, pulling out a hidden blade, I rest it against his throat. He smiles up at me, but it doesn't look right on his face, it didn't look natural.

"Well done." He says, pushing the blade away from his throat. "You are ready."

He says standing to his full height looking down at the girl who was breathing heavily.

"Go to the others and rest. The conclave begins at dawn."

"Seda." I grunt, lightly bowing my head.

There was no denying the venom behind that one word.

I didn't know who the man was/ but I knew I hated him. Respected him- but hated him none the less.

"Calla." The man barks out and my body stiffens for a moment. "The dagger."

My eyes go down looking at the metal gleaming in my hand. With a barely contained sigh, I stalk back over to him, slapping the blade into his hand.

Not another word is exchanged as I turn and head back out of the room. Subconsciously my breath catches, as we walk past one of the shields I catch a look of my own reflection.

I felt like I was looking into a mirror- only it was a younger version of me staring back.

It didn't make sense.. but then again none of this did. Why was the flame showing me any of this?