The Crown's Fire - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Gift
“Please spare me!”

“I will do everything—just don’t kill me!”

“I beg you, have mercy!”

Amidst the cries and pleas of the other captives surrounding her, Tarah remained an island of stoic composure, seemingly unaffected by the collective distress that filled the air. Her icy cold blue eyes betrayed no hint of emotion as if the anguish of her fellow captives did not affect her.

Her obvious indifference starkly contrasted with the palpable fear and desperation gripping the others.

“This one—I want this one in my personal cage!” the Commander of the army shouted, pointing his finger at her. “And put all the rest in the same cages!”

Tarah gritted her teeth, but she remained unfazed. She could feel the Commander’s malicious eyes directed at her.

“Commander Ross, let’s move! We have a convoy to attack, and they are nearing,” a dark man with slitted dark orbs, similar to the eyes of a snake, interrupted. He was Sibil, the most sinister, and thus, most feared warlock from the kingdom of Helion.

For years, Helion had waged wars all over the world, destroying and conquering other kingdoms for power. The Demon King of the Kingdom of Helion, Devon, wanted to rule the world, and he consequently dispatched his horrendous armies everywhere to wreak havoc.

The current village where Tarah stayed was unfortunately attacked by one of Helion’s armies.

“What’s the rush, Sibil? I don’t like rushing things,” the commander scoffed, his eyes still lingering directly on her. “You’re not my superior. I don’t need to obey you. On the battlefield, I’m your superior!”

Disgusted on the man’s face as he licked his lips while his gaze locked onto her, Tarah wanted to vomit out her revulsion. She fought hard to retain her composure, clenching her jaw and balling her hands into fists till her knuckles turned white.

“Aren’t you a calm one, huh? I can’t wait to squash the stubborn look in your eyes by the time I’m done with you.” The commander smirked as he gave one of the many soldiers around him the signal to drag her inside his so-called personal cage.

It was smaller compared to the large ones they used to hold other captives. Tarah pursed her lips in an attempt to prevent herself from speaking, quietly watching the army march back to their destination from the cage she was locked in.

Soon after, another battle ensued as the Helion army proceeded with its plan for another ambush. And this time, it was no longer a village they were after, but a convoy bearing the flag of Ebodia, with its striking golden dragon symbol in the middle.

“Kill everyone!” the commander shouted.

Tarah couldn’t bear to witness the bloodshed. The strong metallic scent of blood, the screams and shouts that filled the surroundings, including the manic laughter of the warlock, all overstimulated her senses.

Still, she did her best to remain calm, and she held her breath the moment her eyes darted to an older man with shoulder-length silver-white hair from the convoy of Ebodia. He was the Seer of Ebodia, Beirut, whom she had lately seen in her visions and dreams.

The Seer was currently fighting against Helion’s warlock, Sibil, through an exchange of powerful spells. Light and dark mists and balls were thrown into the air as they attempted to kill each other.

Unfortunately, like her visions showed her, the dark fireballs managed to subdue the white shadows, making the older man fall to his knees.

It was then that their gazes met.

“You… I finally found you,” Seer Beirut muttered the moment his eyes landed on her.

“What is it, old man? Oh, Beirut… It’s only too bad that you won’t be able to save her and yourself, for today will be your death!” Sibil declared with a loud laugh as he gathered his dark energy into a big dark fireball. “Say goodbye to your time as Ebodia’s Seer! It’s now time for you to rest!”

Tears unknowingly rolled down Tarah’s cheeks as she watched it all unfold. She bit her quivering inner lip, holding her breath once more, knowing how things would end—how the Seer of the Kingdom of Ebodia would die in the hands of the evil warlock of Helion, Sibil.

To her surprise, she saw the older man smile at her and mutter, “Everything will be in your hands, now.”

“What are you grumbling about, old man?!” Sibil mocked as he put more power into the dark mist holding the old man by the neck up in the air.

Sibil might’ve been unable to hear the Seer’s silent words, but Tarah managed to clearly read the old man’s lips. Just in time, a loud thud sounded out as the old man’s body fell to the ground.

Right at that moment, a vision unfolded before Tarah’s eyes. A surge of images flooded her mind, and she couldn’t help but clutch her head, overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion of events playing out in her consciousness.

As she raised her head, she turned to the warlock, with a taunting smile forming on her lips.

With a growl, Sibil approached her and hissed, “What are you smiling about?!”

She gave Sibil her coldest look and smirked. “Death will soon come your way through the hands of the future King of Ebodia.”

Yes, Tarah was no ordinary woman, for she had the gift to see the future and other things that most people couldn’t see. Her ability wasn’t limited to merely seeing the future. She could also see all the past, as well as show her visions to others if she willed by simply touching them. On top of this, she also had the power to limit the visions she wanted others to see.

Sibil gritted his teeth as he moved to hold her neck. “You! I’ll seal your mouth fo-”

“Sibil! What are you doing near my woman?” the commander hissed.

“Let her go now! Scram, and report this success here to King Devon! Tell him that I will proceed to the northern camp and will await his next orders!” He then turned to her and said, “You… I will deal with you soon!”

Quickly releasing her neck, the warlock then disappeared before her eyes.

Meanwhile, the commander quickly instructed his men to move, and Tarah’s eyes softened as her cage passed by Beirut’s unmoving body. Although he had yet to die, he was barely alive.

The commander then approached her cage with a grin. “Tell me your name, woman.”

“My name is nothing of importance at this point,” she coldly answered.

The commander chuckled and taunted, “We’ll see later how long you can act tough once you’re on my bed.”

“I’m the last woman you’ll ever see until your last breath tonight as you shall bathe in your own blood on your bed.” Her icy blue eyes bore into the commander with an intensity that could send a chill down someone’s spine.