Previous Chapters
Orin had been laying in his cramped cell, the dank walls closing in around him. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, a constant companion in this place of despair. The guards, unyielding and silent, tossed him scraps of food, enough to keep him alive but never enough to satisfy.
As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Orin lost all sense of time. He had resigned himself to his fate, believing that he would die in this wretched place. But then, a glimmer of hope appeared before him, in the form of a small, silver-haired woman with a fierce determination in her eyes.
At first, Orin doubted that this slip of a girl could offer him any help. But as he watched her take down one of the guards, his doubts were cast aside. With newfound hope, he stepped forward as Christa opened his cell. "Well, I'll be damned," he exclaimed. "If I had to bet, my money would have been on the guard."
Christa's lips curled into a playful grin. "Sorry, Orin, but I don't think you have any coin to spare," she quipped, her voice dripping with amusement. “You know, being a prisoner and all"
Orin felt a flicker of warmth in his heart, a feeling he had not experienced in far too long. He now believed that he had a chance at escape, a chance at life. And for the first time in a long time, he dared to hope. “Ex-prisoner actually.” He stepped out of the cell and picked up the defeated guard’s sword “So what should I call you then little one?”
“Christa, and I’m not little!” Christa snapped back, her eyes flashing with the same deadly light that she had used to defeat the guard.
Orin couldn't help but laugh at her feisty spirit. "Let's get going then," he said, eager to escape.
“Hey! What about us?” one of the prisoners screamed. The others stood with their hands holding on to their bars, their eyes filled with desperate hope.
Orin watched as Christa bent down to search the guard, revealing a set of keys from his possession. She threw them over at one of the prisoners in the cell and said “Let yourself out and pass the keys along”. The prisoner scrambled for the keys as Christa turned to Orin “So, let’s get going shall we.”
Orin could hear the frantic movement of guards nearby and looked at the prisoners with sad eyes. He knew that not all of them would make it out alive, but he took solace in the fact that they at least now had a fighting chance like he did. All thanks to this small girl and her kind heart. He looked down at the sword in his hand and lay it down on the ground. They may need it more than he does.
Christa led the way, darting along, making sure to avoid any patrolling guards. Had she been any faster, Orin may not have been able to keep up he thought. He had forgotten what it felt like to move freely, to run with purpose. It was exhilarating.
They passed through a maze of dark corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Finally, they reached a small opening in the wall. Luckily no one had found the hole just yet. Christa pointed to the hole and signalled for Orin to crawl through. The hole was tiny, barely big enough for her petite frame to pass through. Had the guards cared to feed Orin even the tiniest bit more, even he would be too big for this hole.
As Orin crouched down, he felt a wave of heat wash over him. It was a raging fire, one that had since lost control. "What's this, on the other side?" he asked, staring at the flickering light. His eyes were transfixed on the flames, as if they held some sort of mystical power. He turned to Christa, who was watching him intently as if searching for a reaction. "Did you do this?" he asked.
"Yes, it was me. I set that fire a while ago," she replied, her voice laced with pride.
Orin couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the girl. Despite her size, she was definitely resourceful. "How were you planning on getting out if you hadn't found me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“That just wasn’t an option” she smiled.
Orin laughed. Any doubt he had of this girl was completely erased. He turned back to the flames and peered through the hole. The fire was raging on the other side, warning anyone that got near. "Follow my lead," he instructed Christa, as he crawled towards the raging inferno.
The fire should have been intense, but Orin seemed unfazed, almost as if he was one with the flames. As he passed through the hole, the fire seemed to bend and twist around him, as if it recognised him as its master. It created a safe path for Christa to follow, a path that was warm but not deadly.
As she emerged on the other side of the hole, she could see that Orin was still absorbing all the fire on the other side. It was a spectacular light show, with flames of orange, red, and yellow swirling around him like a frenzied dance.
Once skinny and skeletal, Orin now looked large, muscular, and full of energy. His skin glowed with an inner light, as if he had absorbed the essence of the flames and made it his own. Christa could feel the power emanating from him, like a force of nature that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
For a moment, they stood there, surrounded by the dancing flames, as if they were the only two beings in the world. Then when the last of the fire had been absorbed, Orin turned to Christa, his eyes gleaming with a fierce determination.
"Come." he said, his voice deep and commanding.