đź“–l
By Victor Simdrix
Chapter 19 – Flames of Doubt
The bells of Valebridge tolled at dawn, their echo rolling across the cobblestone streets. But instead of the usual market chatter, the city stirred with unease. Posters had appeared overnight, plastered on walls, nailed to tavern doors, and even slipped beneath cottage windows.
"Beware the Fire Witch," they read in black ink, accompanied by a crude sketch of Nyra, flames engulfing screaming villagers at her feet.
By midmorning, crowds had gathered in the square. Angry voices rose, sharp as broken glass.
"She'll burn us all!" one man shouted, shaking his fist.
"My children saw her eyes glow red last night!" a woman wailed.
"She's no hero — she's Malakar reborn!"
The mob swelled, torches raised, fear twisting into rage.
---
Inside the castle, King Aldric slammed the poster on the council table.
"This poison spreads faster than steel," he growled. "If we do nothing, the people will rise against her — against all of us."
Thorne Virek's voice cut through the chamber, low and steady.
"Perhaps they are not wrong to fear her, Your Grace. Even you have seen what she can do. Fire this strong cannot always be controlled."
Nyra flinched, her knuckles white as she clenched the table.
"I would never harm them," she said, voice trembling. "I've bled for this kingdom. I've fought Malakar's beasts in the dark while they slept safe in their beds. And this is how they repay me?"
Darius leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his smirk unusually sharp.
"Repayment is a coin rarely given, flame. You don't win trust by saving lives. You win it by making them believe you'll never turn on them. And right now, they don't."
---
That night, as unrest boiled in the streets, a cry tore through Valebridge. A beast — one of Malakar's war-spawn, twisted by shadow magic — erupted from the city's northern gate. Its body was a grotesque mix of wolf and flame, eyes glowing with voidfire. People screamed, scattering as the creature rampaged through the market stalls, fire trailing in its wake.
Nyra did not hesitate. She vaulted the balcony, fire blazing around her, and landed in the square. The beast turned, snarling, its voidfire clashing against her own flames.
"Go!" she shouted to the crowd. "Run!"
But as she fought, the whispers continued.
"She's feeding the flames!"
"Look — she called it here!"
"She's controlling it!"
Her heart twisted, but she could not falter. With a roar, she thrust her fire into the beast, engulfing it until nothing but black ash remained.
The silence that followed was heavy. Smoke curled in the night air.
Nyra turned, expecting thanks — but instead, the crowd recoiled. Mothers clutched their children tighter, men whispered prayers, and all eyes burned with fear.
"She's… she's a monster," someone muttered.
The words spread like wildfire.
And for the first time, Nyra felt the weight of true isolation.