Fire in the Soul

Chapter 2

Rage.

Vesta tried to stay still and keep calm, but fury shook her body. The man holding her didn't seem to notice, because he leaned back, and his breath stopped tickling her neck. However, his dagger remained threatening, and the hand wrapped around her wrist was firm and unwavering. It was clear that his threat still hung in the air.

Vesta tried to watch her father without moving to help him, but white hot anger blurred her vision. With her hands held tightly behind her back and forced into a kneel, there was nothing she could possibly do to stop her father's looming fate.

His attacker sent blow after blow towards her father, and every time he narrowly dodged the blade. From what she could tell, he was trying to direct the fight toward the hidden dagger he kept under his sleeping mat, which he hadn't had time to reach when he awoke. Vesta could tell he was tiring, but unwilling to give up. She realized with a pang that if he couldn't get to his weapon- and fast- he would die fighting, defenseless until his very last breath.

He had hurt her since the day her mother died, but she wouldn't be able to bear his death regardless.

She was shoved roughly onto her side and gagged as she watched the hopeless battle play out before her eyes.

The pent up flame inside her grew larger and stronger, begging to be released. Anger coiled itself in knots in her stomach. There was only once that she had ever been this enraged, and the outcome hadn't been good.

Vesta sucked in deep breaths, trying to soothe her furious heartbeat. Maybe then she could start focusing on the danger at hand instead of her suffocating fury.

'Breathe, Vesta, Breathe,' Her mothers words whispered in her mind. Her voice was soft and gentle as the memory brushed her consciousness, cooling the burning tongues of fire licking in her heart.

Vesta winced at what came next. The words of a terrified child echoed in her mind as clear as the day they fell from her lips.

'I can't mommy!' Vesta remembered that she had cried out through her tears. Her eyes had betrayed her fear, even in the midst of her anger. 'I don't want them to take you away!'

Arya, her mother had smiled sadly. 'Its okay, let me go..."

Then, she was gone. Vesta had screamed and fallen to her knees, digging her small fingers into the hot sand. Blinding light washed over her, and that was all she remembered.

A man's scream echoed into the night, snapping Vesta back to reality. The man attacking her father had managed to plunge is blade into his leg. Blood seeped from the open wound, staining the thin linen floor of the tent a deep scarlet. Vesta bit back a cry of her own, becoming very aware of how tightly her binder's hand was clutching the knife.

Move and you die.

She also became aware of how angry she was. It her breaking point. The fire was too strong to hold in. It was fighting, reaching past her hastily built inner walls, and sending them crashing down. In her fury, Vesta vaguely remembered the terror that came with rage.

The smoke that loomed hours after the explosion. Her mother's terrified expression.

She whimpered in pain and squeezed her eyes shut. The flames seemed to lick at her heart, spiraling from deep within her soul. The knife once again whispered against her neck. Not a word was exchanged between her and the man, but the light movement of the blade spoke for him.

Keep it in Keep it in Keep it in

The chant did little to help the situation, and it soon became dull background noise behind the roaring fire in her ears.

The fire inside taunted her, whispering and coaxing. Let it out Let it out Let it out

Vesta whimpered and curled into a ball on the sandy canvas floor, as if her position would somehow suppress the fire's reach. She could feel iron cutting into her skin vaguely, as if it was a dream. She felt a drop of blood run it's course, muted by internal battles and the pain that was stronger.

She faded in and out of consciousness, pulling out of her slumber in time to see her father on the floor, motionless in a pool of crimson. There was no way to tell if he was dead or alive, but from the growing amount of blood around him, Vesta could see that whatever had happened, wasn't good.

Far away, she felt rope sting her wrists and ankles. Sand bit into her skin as she was dragged from where he lay. She tried to scream. She tried to cry. Not that it would matter anymore.

She wanted to burn the men to the ground.

And yet, it didn't matter how hard she tried. It didn't matter how angry she was. The fire stayed put. Not a single flame sparked. It raged only inside her, throbbing in time with her racing heart.

Faintly, she heard the people of her tribe calling for help, or sprinting in fear from the attackers. Away from her.

And when her rage died out, leaving a cold spot in her chest and bringing her back to her senses, now dulled from exhaustion, she wished that maybe, she could have burned with them.

A/N

Soo... it's been a while.. *waves*

I apologize for not updating well and for the short chapter. I have had a lot of stuff going on recently and wasn't able to continue writing.

Also I may or may not have come down with a severe case of writer's block from not doing anything for so long.. hehe

Anyways, I hope this wasn't too boring, because this particular chapter was super hard to write and I'm not very confident in it... lol

I would love feedback so I can work on getting better!

~Blue-Skiess <3