Trigger warning: quite depressed, careless and violent. Mentions 'the devil' generally once, sorry if that offends you.
They say you stay alive for at least half an hour after you die.
I can confirm that you get at least five minutes. At least, that's what I've got so far.
Funny how I can still hear my own voice, even though my senses are fading away, one by one. My body, battered and broken, lies on the cold stone floor, a final testament to a life that had been drenched in blood and pain.
My name is Wildfire, and I was once a fighter—a veteran gladiator. My scales, once ablaze with vibrant hues of brown and orange, now lay dull and lifeless. The wounds that covered me were too many to count; they oozed with crimson, staining the ground beneath me. But it wasn't the physical agony that hurt the most—it was the memories that lingered, the ghosts of a past that haunted me.
Scarlet, the former Queen, had forced me into this life of violence. She took a sick pleasure in watching us tear each other apart, reveling in the chaos and despair. I had fought to survive, to see one more day, but at what cost? The battles had left me scarred, both inside and out.
I should explain.
I've wasn't a normal dragonet, oh no. My mother hated me. My father died to escape me, leaving us both distraught. I cared less, because I was never afraid of dying.
Why were they running? I haven't told you yet. We'll get there.
My mother, Ashfall, tried to murder me on two occasions, discreetly. Once, whilst we were attending Queen Ruby's coronation, she shoved me in the way of a cart, blaming it on the crowd. What a disappointment she got when I returned with a simple broken leg, fixed in weeks out of the limited years I had to come.
The second time, she tried to smother me in my sleep, when I was five. Did I mention I was a light sleeper? She was the one left lifeless when I woke up, and I... I had stopped caring. What more use was a parent who kept trying to off you than none at all?
My luck wasn't so great, apparently, as Queen Scarlet took me in.
After she found out I wasn't such a fun toy to play with, I was tossed aside, into the famef arena. Why she came to that conclusion?
That again, will be revealed in time.
And then there was Peril—a mindless weapon created by Scarlet's twisted experimentation. She had been dangerous, a force that couldn't be contained. But Peril had changed, become good, or so they said. I hadn't seen her since that terrible day, when her flames had seared my flesh and blinded me in my left eye. The pain had been unbearable, but in the depths of my heart, I might have forgiven her...
Who am I kidding. I wouldn't.
But what haunted me most of all was the memory of Skylark. She had been the one I loved, the one who had promised to stand by my side. We had dreamed of a life together, of soaring through the skies with hearts intertwined. But fate had cruelly snatched her away, twenty-one years ago, just as our love was beginning to kindle.
Did I mention 'fate' went by an alter ego, then? Queen Scarlet snatched her away, I meant. Twenty one years ago, and she never came back.
No questions asked, because that was just the way things were. Sometimes, you get snatched, and no one says a word, because they don't want to be next. And sometimes, you live out until your wounds consume you, the moment you stop holding out.
That's me. For seven years I've suffered with the scars on my body, never telling anyone that they told me things I shouldn't ignore.
Not literally, that would be stupid. Just looking at them told me I should've died those years ago, and sometimes, I wonder, would I be happier then? Would I be safer?
Yes, and no. In that order.
But of course, I couldn't even look at them properly. Because one of my eyes was just a dull sphere, stuck in its socket, dead to the world.
Peril killed it, like she did so many others.
But it's okay, really... I'm pretty sure you don't need to see in the afterlife.
And if you do, I'd only be looking the devil in the eye anyway.
And now, as I draw my last breath, I carry their memories with me. The ache in my heart mirrored the agony in my body, but even in this darkness, there was a flicker of hope. Hope that somewhere, somehow, love would prevail.
A load of rubbish, brain. Love died with Skylark twenty one years ago.
With my final exhale, I closed my eyes, ready to join them all in eternal slumber.
But even in death, the flames of longing refuse to be extinguished...
I haven't told you why they ran, have I?
I'm a necromancer. But it wasn't my fault.
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Wildfire isn't dead! (Well he is) but I'm not trying to adopt him just to kill him off! I've got this idea where the whole story takes place in the afterlife... it's a Halloween themed book, you'll have to wait and see 🙈
Hope this is good enough, -littlefirefly
