From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

Chapter 23: Between Life, Death, and Flames

"Get up!" the Cannibal boomed in my mind, his voice cutting through the fog of pain and shock. I could feel the vibration of his massive steps through the earth, the tremors running through my body as he roared, a terrifying sound that echoed across the battlefield. "Get back into the saddle now!"

My eyes shot open, panic slicing through the haze of pain. I forced myself to sit up, my vision spinning as I scanned the area. That's when I saw them—the Greens, soldiers scrambling to reload massive crossbow weapons, their aim fixed squarely on the Cannibal.

My blood ran cold.

He was a sitting duck down here, his enormous form too exposed. I watched in horror as he roared and shot flames at anyone who dared come too close, his fire scorching the earth.  The crossbows were almost ready, the soldiers working frantically to load the deadly bolts.

"Go! You need to leave!" I shouted, my voice hoarse as I scrambled to my feet, the pain in my shoulder flaring with every movement.

"I am not leaving you!" The Cannibal's voice was a thunderous boom in my mind, filled with determination.

My heart raced as I glanced back at the crossbows. They were loaded now, the massive bolts aimed directly at the Cannibal, poised to fire. There was no time to argue.

"Go, now! I will be fine!" I yelled, desperation lacing my words. "Get in the air, take out those machines, and come back for me!"

For a moment, the Cannibal hesitated, his fierce eyes locked onto mine. I could feel his rage, his unwillingness to leave me behind. But then, with a final, deafening roar, he spread his wings wide, the gust of wind from his takeoff nearly knocking me off my feet.

The crossbows fired, but the Cannibal was already airborne, the bolts whistling past him as he soared into the sky. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him climb higher, his massive wings beating with raw power. The wind whipped around him, a dark silhouette against the burning sky, and for a moment, all I could feel was a strange mixture of relief and fear as he moved farther and farther away.

But then, shouts from below yanked me back to reality. My head snapped down, and my heart froze. A group of Aegon's men were charging at me, their armor gleaming dully in the flickering firelight, swords drawn and eyes fixed on me like wolves hunting wounded prey.

Shit!

Panic surged through me as I reached down with my good arm, fumbling to pull out one of my daggers. The weapon felt so small in my hand, almost laughable compared to the broad swords these men were wielding. My shoulder screamed in pain, but I forced myself to stand, to face them. There was no doubt in my mind—I was going to die here.

I gritted my teeth, gripping the dagger so tightly my knuckles turned white. I wasn't going to go down without a fight. I would take at least one of them with me. My heart pounded in my chest as the men closed in, their heavy boots thudding against the ground. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go. The pain in my shoulder flared, a constant, burning reminder of how weak I was, how outmatched.

They were nearly upon me now, their swords raised, faces twisted with grim determination. I could see it in their eyes—they were going to enjoy this.

I braced myself, raising the dagger, every muscle in my body tensed for the impact. Time seemed to slow, the air thick with the smell of smoke and blood, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Just as they were about to reach me, the world erupted into fire. A wall of flames engulfed the charging soldiers, their screams swallowed by the roar of the inferno. The heat was intense, washing over me in a wave, singeing the edges of my hair and clothing. I staggered back, shielding my face with my arm as the flames raged, consuming everything in their path.