Ash and Fire

Chapter 10

The air around the city felt lifted and vibrant, and she couldn't help the small burst of zest that floated through her. Everywhere she looked the people were smiling, even with the hint of apprehension on their faces, they didn't let it overpower the fear they had of the dragons. It felt as if the sun had decided to turn it up a notch on its brightness as Lydia strolled the streets with Asher. 

However, it was pushed down by the ever-growing weight of the words around her that met her ears. The savior who would save them from the dragons that wanted to destroy their homes and ruin their lives. The praise flowed from everyone’s mouth as they spoke to the person next to them, others stopping to join the conversation, adding their own opinions into the mix. She could hear the expectancy in their light tones, the guilt in her building with each word because she knew she wasn’t some hero who could stop a dragon. She wasn’t one of their magicians with powers like Theron. She was an ordinary woman who would have had college debt in four more years, meager relationships, and meaningless sex until she arrived here. 

Asher’s hand grabbed hers, giving a reassuring squeeze as they kept walking. He didn’t let go of her hand and she had no qualms about him doing it anytime soon, his warm rough hands gave her a peace of mind, if only slightly with everything around them. 

She had hoped walking through the city would give her some insight to how the people would respond to the announcement of some savior’s arrival and what they knew. Mouths always seemed to run when a sense of security was put into place, making them say things they normally would have been afraid to say, yet anything she heard was useless and of no help to her.  

"She should feel grateful for the Kingdom to be indebted to her."

Lydia stopped, making Asher bump into her arm, ushering a quick apology that she barely heard as her attention was on the commotion she caught to the side. Fury burned in her veins at the man who spoke those words. His arrogant face stared down at a man shorter than him—he looked to be a few inches shorter than her too, but the taller man acted like he was superior to him in some way. 

"And how would you know how she should feel? Your incessant talk about her saving you all would drive any sane person mad. No wonder she hasn’t shown her face to the likes of you all," the shorter man snarled, his nose scrunching up as if he tasted something sour. 

"Whoa, whoa," Lydia interjected, stepping between the taller man and the shorter one. "There's no need for it to get physical. What's the point of arguing over something neither one of you could say is right or wrong?" 

"Because that–" the furious scorn-filled face man pointed at the shorter– "thing! Thinks we’re scaring off someone who will save us from the burning fire of the dragons who want to destroy our homes with our gratefulness!" 

She found it odd the way the man in front of her glared at the man behind her. The way his eyes burned with contempt. She didn’t know the situation, yet she didn’t see how the conversation became so heated before they got there for the man to hold that much anger toward a person they didn’t know. 

"First off, he's not a thing. He's still a human being that doesn't deserve your wrongfully placed hatred. Second, how do you know what your savior is feeling? I guess if you were them, you'd jump for joy and announce your presence for everyone to bow down at your feet before you did anything to accept their thanks?"

Lydia watched the way his face reeled back, scoffing to herself as she saw the ways his eyes glanced around them before straightening his posture, and glowering down at her. 

Pride. It was the one thing most men had they wouldn't give up on anything, yet it was the downfall that ruined them all if they didn't know how or when to use it. It felt amusing, yet oh so original, for one to stick by their pride than admit everyone had opinions.