The nightmare returned, as it always did. Flames roared around Alex, a fiery beast devouring everything in its path—his skin, his clothes, the world. He was wearing an iron suit, marching in formation. He reached out, trying to stop it, but his fingers burned. In front of him, civilians—helpless, desperate—cowered, their faces twisted in terror, pleading for mercy. But Alex couldn’t hear their cries. All he could hear was the Mad King’s voice, a cold whisper, an iron command against his soul.
"Burn them," the Mad King’s voice echoed, seeping into Alex’s every thought. "Burn them all, Alex."
His hands moved as if on their own, flames erupting, turning the helpless into ash. His body was numb, disconnected—his mind screamed, but his magic responded to the King’s will, destroying without mercy.
The screams rang in his ears as their faces melted, their cries swallowed by the inferno.
Alex woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat, his heart racing, breath shallow. The lingering warmth of fire clung to him, but the inn’s musty air and the weak light of dawn brought him back. He wiped his forehead, trying to push the remnants of the nightmare away. I’m not that person anymore. I’m not.
But the weight of the past pressed on his chest like an iron chain.
“Morning, sunshine,” Elias’s voice broke through the fog, a knife spinning lazily in his hand. “Did the flames keep you up again?”
Alex met his gaze, but his voice was tight. “Yeah. Something like that.”
Elias grinned, his green eyes twinkling. “Well, if you’re burning anything, it better be breakfast. I’m starving.”
“You’ve got to stop talking about food like it’s the solution to everything,” Jasmine said, adjusting her shimmering blue armor as she stood from the hay-strewn bed. Her smile was soft, but her gaze remained focused on Alex. “But Elias has a point. We should get moving.”
Alex nodded, but his mind lingered on the nightmare. The shadows of his past were growing stronger with each passing day, and it felt like the Mad King’s influence was tightening around him. Every step he took away from that hell seemed to pull him back.
As they entered the bustling streets of Alastra, the noise of the market, the chatter of vendors, and the laughter of children seemed like a distant hum, too far from the heavy weight in Alex’s chest. But the crowds parted for them with unnerving precision.
A man’s gaze lingered too long on Alex, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
“Hold on,” Elias muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Something’s not right here.”
Before Alex could speak, a woman’s voice cut through the noise. “You!” she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at him. “You were the one who—”
“No, it’s him!” A man beside her grabbed her arm, his voice rising in fury. “The one who burned my family! I saw the flames in his eyes!”
The whispers rippled through the crowd, rising like a tide. Alex felt the eyes of the city on him, the accusing stares, the whispers of his past. No. It can’t be. They remember me?
A man stepped forward from the crowd, fury twisting his face. “You’re that mage, aren’t you? The Mad King’s puppet. We’ve heard the stories—of the peasant boy who burns his enemies alive. Did you burn my sister too?”
Alex took an instinctive step back. His throat went dry. I thought I escaped this. I thought I was free.
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“Run,” Jasmine said, her voice steady but edged with concern. “We need to leave. Now.”
But before they could make their move, a shadow flickered across the street—a figure emerging from an alleyway ahead. The crowd parted with unnatural ease as the figure stepped into the light, revealing a tall, lithe woman in flowing black robes, her jet-black hair tied in a tight braid. Her violet eyes glowed, and her pale skin gleamed like moonlight. Her very presence seemed to draw the light from the air, casting an unsettling shadow that extended in every direction at once.
“Is there a problem here?” she asked, her voice soft, almost teasing.
Elias tensed, his eyes narrowing. “Just a little misunderstanding, I’m sure. But I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t fix, right beautiful?”
The woman’s lips curled into a predatory smile. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who cares.”
“Her name’s Plya,” Alex muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. He had heard of shadow mages, and he was pretty sure he had encountered her before. “She’s dangerous.”
Before anyone could move, the air around them grew heavier. The shadows deepened, stretching and twisting at her command. Tendrils of darkness rose from the cobblestones, coiling toward them. Alex’s pulse quickened as the shadows reached for him, pulling at his feet like living things.
“No…” Alex gasped, stepping back as the world around him seemed to warp. The flames from his nightmare flickered to life once again, licking at his skin, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils.
“Stop!” Jasmine shouted, but the shadows surged forward, slamming her against the ground, paralyzing her where she lay. She tried to reach for her magic, but the darkness drained her strength.
“Jasmine!” Elias cried, trying to pull her to safety, but his leg slipped into the shadows, and with a sickening pull, it yanked him to the ground. His leg crunched, and he screamed in pain, but the shadows didn’t release him.
“Elias!” Alex’s heart raced; his body frozen in place by the dark tendrils gripping his limbs.
Plya’s voice was low and mocking. “So weak. So easily paralyzed by your own fears. And you…” She turned her glowing eyes toward Alex, her smile widening. “You’re nothing but a puppet. A broken tool. The Mad King’s tool.”
Alex could barely move, his body trembling as her words cut through his mind. The flame inside him surged uncontrollably, but it wasn’t a fire he could control. It was a fire from the past, one that had ravaged his soul, and it threatened to drown him once again. No, I won’t go back…
But the weight of her magic pulled him deeper into the nightmare. His vision blurred, and then… everything went black.
“Alex!” Jasmine’s voice was faint, her breath shallow. She kissed him gently on the forehead, her hands shaking. “Please, wake up. Please.”
The shadows around them tightened like a noose, ready to swallow them whole.
But then, a new figure appeared, cutting through the darkness like a blade. A man, tall and broad-shouldered, his face hard with experience but carrying a quiet strength in his every movement. His weathered armor and cloak flared as he strode forward, his presence commanding.
“Who the hell are you?” Plya hissed, her eyes narrowing.
“I’m the one who’s going to end this,” the man said gruffly, unsheathing a heavy, rusted sword. “And you’ve made a mistake.”
With a single, practiced swing, the shadows recoiled, snapping back like a whip. Plya hissed in fury, but the shadows retreated, vanishing like smoke.
“Move,” the man ordered, his gaze flicking to Elias, Jasmine, and Alex. His eyes softened just slightly as he knelt beside them. “We’re not safe here. Come with me, quickly.”
Elias groaned, his leg still throbbing with pain. “Who the hell are you?”
“Clay,” the man said, his voice steely. “Ex-soldier. And I don’t take kindly to magic users messing with people in my city.” He turned to his group—men and women with bows, axes, and swords at their sides, some of them moving quickly to set up a defensive perimeter around the group.
Jasmine, still paralyzed, lifted her head with a weak smile. “Thank you…”
“We’ll need more than thanks,” Clay muttered, helping Elias to his feet. “We need your help. There’s a resistance forming here. If you want to survive, you’ll need to fight.”
Elias gave a crooked grin as his saviours helped him limp to his feet, though his face was pale from the pain. “Looks like we found ourselves a new leader, huh?”
Clay didn’t smile. “Don’t steal from us. We have enough enemies.”
As they moved quickly through the narrow streets, Elias smirked. “Don’t worry, Clay. We’re really good at stealing bread from rich lords. You’ll be glad we’re with you.”
Clay’s eyes narrowed as he motioned for the soldiers to flank them. “Steal anything, and you’ll meet my sword, understood?”
Despite the weight of the moment, Alex couldn’t help but smile slightly. They were real rebels now. They had a real chance to do away with these mad masters and kings. Together.