Impossible

Chapter Six: The Wind

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Chapter Six: The Wind

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        "Run," the guard who'd been standing next to me ordered desperately. It had been the first time he'd even offered help since I appeared on the box.

        "We need to show them that I'm not dangerous; that I'm a good king," I said, not moving. Screams were exploding through the crowd as they flooded toward the box. The closest Eastbell citizens were slamming their fists into my shins.

        I sent my energy toward around the box, urging it in a full circle to protect the guard and I.

        Immediately, a shimmering blue shield appeared in a perfect sphere around the box, pushing the crowd backward, and making it impossible for the wizards around me to hit us with attacks.

        Columns and balls of fire exploded from the back of the crowd, flying toward the shield at record speed.

        "Please, just get out of here; they will cause too much damage. We can keep them under control, but only if you're not here," the guard said. I could barely hear him over the crowd's noise, but I could still sense the desperation in his voice. His eyes plead with me, as if he truly wanted to help.

        "No, I need to show them that this isn't the answer," I said, determination filling my voice. I couldn't let them believe that they could chase me out of the throne. I fought for it, and I deserved it.

        My shield remained strong as multiple attacks hit it at once, but it was taking too much of my energy to fend off so many attacks at once. My magic was protecting both the guard and me from any of the citizens of Eastbell being able to physically touch us, producing time for both of us to think.

        "If you really want them to trust you and are going to refuse to move, maybe you should try to calm them down, and then talk in a less pretentious way," the guard said to me, staring with an intensity that I'd never seen out of the guards before; he was angry about what I'd said.

        "What do you mean?" I asked through labored breathing. I knew I didn't have much time left until my shield broke completely, and I was left exposed to the angry citizens.

        "With the rich, you need to, say, edit what you say to fit their beliefs and views more," the guard explained frantically. Despite the confidence his features seemed to show, his eyes filled to the brim with fear. I sighed.

        "Okay, so don't necessarily say I deserve to be king, but that it would've happened eventually?" I asked. My shield shook violently as a particularly large wave of seeds slammed into it. Perspiration rolled down my forehead. I only had a few seconds left.

        "Kinda like that, but even more edited," the guard said. My mind raced. I could do that, but how would I calm all the citizens down? More attacks hit my shield, and someone who had the power of wind in their possession must've decided to fight because a violent wind ripped through the square. The shield doesn't protect the guard nor I from wind due to the fact that it's weather related.

        It sent many citizens falling to the ground, blowing the attacks that they'd been sending at me or the buildings around us flying out of control. Fireballs slammed into the cobblestones, sending bricks flying into the crowd of people and destroying the ground around them.

        Around the areas of impact, I could see injured wealthy people, holding their heads or trying to clot blood that was flowing out of the open wounds.