The Flame Within Read Count : 40

Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Fantasy
     In the north of the Drudian Empire, lay Frostlorn, a land of harsh, frozen winter and storming summer. The people of this land were strong, hardworking, and determined. In the center of Frostlorn, sat the jewel of the region, and one of the largest trade cities in the Empire: Raven Bridge. Traders would come from miles away just to trade in the city's bustling streets, some journeying months for the opportunity. The finest charms and jewels of the cities craftsmen were coveted by the wealthiest nobles and lords. Even kings were seen, surrounded by servants, browsing their wares. Raven Bridge was also well known for supplying the warriors of Drudia's great army with weapons and armor, devoting the whole of one of its quarters to the forges and smithies. Life for those who lived in the city was a good one to live. That was of course, until one dark, summer day.
     The city awoke to business as usual. Nothing was different in the bustling streets, except a small detail that few noticed and no one truly acknowledged. There was not a single familiar face among those who guarded the city. Unbeknownst to the people of Raven Bridge, all of the guards in the barracks had been slaughtered in their sleep, and their roles taken over by Grenadian spies. The jewel of Frostlorn had been infiltrated and was now "guarded" by the Empires greatest foes. Because of this, the attack came without warning.
    The army was in the gates of the city by the time the truth was made clear. Citizens tried to take up arms, but they had little to no training. They did not stand a chance against the army that invaded. The attack started in the Living Quarter, where the people of Raven Bridge lived, and by the time they had finished there, they had slaughtered almost half of the city, leaving nothing but fire and blood in their wake. Next was the Meat Quarter, where food was prepared and traded. The Grenadians made short work of the chefs there and craftsmen of the Jewel Quarter, barely stopping to breathe.
     Finally, they reached the Forge Quarter. It was here, where Raven Bridge's final stand would be. However, it would be a very short stand. One of the blacksmiths, Arteus Vanimus, held his ground while shining a dim beacon of hope, leading what was left of his people. We wore fine armor and wielded the tool of his trade, the smith's hammer, as his weapon of choice. All of this meant very little, as the Grenadians quickly dispatched the blacksmiths and assistants with ease, burning buildings as they went. Arteus ducked into a building after an arrow caught him in his shoulder. He didn't know the building was ablaze until the roof caved in and he was trapped, surrounded by flames.

     When they Grenadians arrived, they came to a bustling trade city filled with people. When they departed, they left behind a flaming ruin and streets flowing with blood. Smoke rose to the sky and swept over the plains of Frostlorn, filling the air with the smell of death, the wind blowing it into the mountains. The stench of destruction found its way into the lair of a great beast. The dragon awoke, its existence unknown to those below. The beast stepped out of its lair, looking down on the world and lept into the air, searching for the source of the smoke, familiar of its scent. The dragon, its name unknown  to mankind, did not have to fly far to find the source of the smoke.
     When it found the ruin that was once the city, it was two days after the event, but the flames, while they had died down, had not burned out completely. The beast searched the decimated city for riches, finding very little in comparison to what once was, but still found a small fortune in gems and gold. It was almost ready to take what was found and leave when it came across a building that seemed to have caved in. A faint movement caught the dragon's eye. Then it's excellent heard the sound of a shallow heartbeat; in this ruin, something yet lived, but only just.
     When the dragon found the source of the heartbeat, it had come across what looked to be a great warrior, wearing the finest armor the beast had ever seen, even in the ancient days when dragons were hunted by the greatest of mankind's warriors. In his hand, this warrior had a hammer. It did not look to be an ordinary weapon, but the tool of a master craftsman. The dragon was admiring the hammer, the work of a master in itself, when the heartbeat stopped. The warrior had died. It was known to the beast that a warrior with armor and a weapon this great could not be some mere soldier and that his death was a great loss. The dragon then blasted the corpse with white-hot flames, a powerful ability it had not used since the beginning of the War of Scales. The flames, being hotter than normal fire, melted the armor and incinerated flesh and bone. But this was not the end of the warrior. He lived once more, not as man, but as something greater. His bones were obsidian, his blood like lava, and his skin had become living flame. In the days of old they called these creations of dragon fire the Flameborne.
    Arteus awoke, after having felt death's cold hand take him. There was a giant beast above him. He yelled in fear, then reached for his hammer. It wasn't there. When he looked he saw that his hand was no longer that of a man. It was only fire. When he looked at his body, he saw that it was the same. "What is this? What circle of what hell am I in?" He asked these things to himself before looking at the dragon again. "You did this," he said, confused.
     "I did," the dragon replied. It's voice was a loud, booming roar. "I am Decessus, great dragon of the mountain, Molochnial. And who are you, great warrior?"
     "Warrior?" Arteus was very confused. "I am no warrior. I am but a blacksmith." He began to notice that his own voice was not as it used to be. It still carried the same deep sound, but one could also hear the roaring of flames when he spoke. "What have you done to me?"
     "I saw your armor. The masterful craftsmanship lead me to believe you were a great warrior," Decessus began to explain himself. "I came here after a great battle had taken place. You died, and I, believing the loss of your life to be a great one, decided to grant you an honor that has not been bestowed upon man for centuries. I have made you one with the dragon's fire. I have made you Flameborne."
     "Flameborne?" Arteus had never heard of such a thing. "What does that mean?"
     "You are now more powerful than ever before. You have the strength of twenty soldiers. You can run as horses do. You cannot be killed by mere blades of man." Decessus raised his giant head, listening to something. "Men come. I must go. I stay in the great mountain of Molochnial, known to you as Winter's Edge. Meet me there if you wish to speak further." Then the great dragon took to the skies, his wings each as wide as a house. Much to Arteus's surprise, the dragon vanished into the smoke from the burning city.
     Then, after what seemed to be a half hour, Arteus heard what had alerted Decessus. Hoof beats. They came from the west, towards the Meat Quarter. But the quarter was no more. Nor was the city. Raven Bridge was nothing but ash and ruin, a forsaken place littered with burnt corpses. As the hoof beats grew louder, Arteus could make out the sounds of men shouting. They were looking for survivors in the destruction. He ran towards the voices, familiar with one. It was one of the Emperor's generals, a man named Bear, with the ferocity to match. Bear was a strong man, carrying giant warhammers into battle instead of axes and swords, riding upon a huge wolf instead of a horse. He frequently bought armor and weapons made by Arteus, and had seen countless battles. When they met face-to-face, there was an unexpected reaction.
     "Daemon!" shouted one of his lieutenants, terrified at the sight of the new being standing before him. He charged at Arteus, axe ready for a clean strike to the neck, aiming for decapitation.
     Arteus, somewhat instinctively, blocked the strike with his arm, shattering the axe blade and knocking the man off of his horse. The rest of the soldiers followed suit and charged, weapons at the ready. Arteus feared for his life, forgetting all the dragon had told him. Then, as a second weapon broke on his block he learned of his power. He could not be hit. They could not wound him. An arrow hit his obsidian skull, angering the Flameborne. He went into a rage, almost blacking out of consciousness. His newfound instincts took over, unleashing his devastating power. He threw a fire ball at one soldier, blue flames blowing the man off of his steed, and his arm off of his torso. They continued the attack nonetheless, landing blow after futile blow. Another soldier was killed by a fireball to the chest, blowing a hole the size of a small child out of the man's ribcage. Arteus swept his arm out across the air, sending out an arc of flame toward another warrior, cleaving the man in two at the waist. As more and more hits were landed, Arteus grew more and more enraged. Finally, as more men arrived, he ran.
     He ran into the nearby woods, darting away from horses and past trees. He turned back to see Bear chasing him and when he looked ahead again, he saw it. But he was too late. He ran off of a cliff, falling into the forest below, rolling off of the cliff face, and finally fell into the river. Artues blacked out. 

When Arteus regained his consciousness, he awoke to find himself on a beach. He sat up and looked around at his new surroundings. He had no idea where he was or how long he had been there. He was still ablaze, proof that he had not dreamt the events that had taken place. Raven Bridge, his home, his forge amd shop were gone. Everything he knew was gone. He was no longer himself, but instead a blaze of damnation. He knew what had to he done. Arteus would take his revenge. The wrongs the Grendians had commuted, the damage that they had done, the lives they had taken, would not go unavenged. He would travel far, and strike down their wicked king. But then questions began to arise in Arteus's mind. Where would he start? Could he do this alone? Was he as powerful as he thought? Could he even die?

*This is UNFINISHED! I am just looking for some feedback and advice**

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