Sol's Valor

Chapter XIII - The Inferno's Cadence

Pyro woke with a burning sensation in his chest.  Every breath was haggard and ended in a terrible choking fit.  Bringing his breathing down to a wheeze, he was able to clear his mind of the fiery pain and open his eyes.  He needed to blink several times and shake his head before his eyes cleared of the murky daze.

Pyro tried to raise his arms but found they were bounded with a thick brown rope.  Looking down, he realized that he was bound to a wooden chair.  His gear was gone and his arms were bound.  A sense of panic rushed through him.  He turned to find Cade.  Left then right.  But, Cade was nowhere to be found.  He hoped his friend was okay.

This whole thing was crazy.  Saving the world.  He didn’t even know if he was saving the world!  For all he knew, he could be bringing death to the entire planet.  Unleashing the Triton element left a constant, bone chilling tingle in the back of Pyro’s mind.  The elemental power had made him black out.  How many others would have done the same?

Pyro wasn’t sure if it was just because he was next to the source of the power, or if it was because he was a Vulcan caster.  That’s what the woman had told him.  Triton was the opposite of Vulcan, thus weakening its power.  But how would it have affected those with different elemental alignments?

Pyro had too many questions and not enough answers regarding the different elements and the towers.  He was still in awe that this whole adventure had begun.  It felt like only days ago he was still safe at home.  With his parents.  With his friends.  He had never wished any of this upon any of them.

Fate.

Fate is what caused the deaths of so many he loved.  Fate is why he was on this journey.  A legend had predetermined him as Emileian’s savior alongside Cade.  He was termed the Pyro’s Inferno by that legend.  He liked the title; Cade had even made it into a suitable nickname that he enjoyed.

Pyro.

He enjoyed it very much.

“Pyro,” he said aloud this time.

A smile drew itself across his face.  He was getting away from himself though.  There would be time to think about what he was doing later.  Right now he was wheezing, bound to a chair, without his weapon.

The chill came back.

Looking around, Pyro saw several gleaming metal objects sitting on a wooden table.  The table was only several feet from where he defenselessly sat.  Trying to stretch his neck toward the table as best he could without agitating the burning sensation, he could make out that most of the instruments were sharp.  Very sharp.

His spine tingled and his body went rigid.

They were torture instruments.  Panic took raced through his being.  He flexed his arms, attempting to break the ropes, but his actions were met with the flames in his chest, sending him cringing back in pain.  His ribs were more than likely broken.

The door to his left swung open, smashing against the wall, cracking most of the oak boards behind it.  A large man, probably twice Pyro’s size entered, the door rebounding and slamming shut behind him, door knob busted.  He wore a thick, steel breast plate that clanked with every step he took.  The man’s face was covered with thick, black stubble which he scratched at with a full hand, always running his fingers down from his deep blue eyes that stared with a heart-stopping violence.

He approached Pyro, his big legs moving one after the other, causing a floorboard to creak on every step under his merciless weight.  Pyro looked him over, too frightened to breathe.  The large man grabbed the grand sword from his back with his right hand and twirled it around as he continued to close in on Pyro.  He wielded the massive blade in only one hand.  Pyro wasn’t sure if he could even pick it up with all of his strength, let alone twirl it around so effortlessly.