How Strong Is Your Resolve?

"Don't just label me your rival, that's cringey."

Samael leaves the room and Ezra waves and laughs.

"Goodnight!"

The night falls silent, and we peer into Samaels dream.

The space is dark and vast, and the floor has a thin layer of water above it. Suddenly a voice pierces Samael's brain.

"You- You are interesting. You're right, you have much more potential than you've given yourself credit for."

Samael painfully grabs his head, and scans his environment concerningly.

"What kind of?"

The voice laughs meniacally.

"This is your mind space, I came here to give you an offer. You defeated two of my envoys and you don't even use any of the powers."

"Shivaxi?"

"Great you aren't an idiot. Listen well, with this offer, great wealth, fame, dominion, and power await you. You will become a representation of me and you will be treated as such. Will you accept my offer? Will you become the lord of my flame?"

Samael finally gets up and adjust to the weird feeling.

"Listen I'm flattered but, your flame doesn't seem all that great. As you said I did defeat those two envoys, if they were representatives of your power it seems like I don't have much to look forward to. And I'd rather not become like those heretics."

The voice goes silent. After a couple of seconds it finally speaks.

"Your points are valid, but let me correct you. Firstly those envoys weren't representive of my power. All they had was the ability to conjure flames an ability which I did in fact grant them. But that's not to be confused for my power."

The water across from Samael begins to bubble as something rises from it. It's Samael, but he looks off. His right arm is wrapped in bandages, his eyes are a strange shade of red, and he's smirking weirdly. But most of all Samael feels extremely threatened by this image of himself. And almost seemlessly a spear was in Samael's hand.

"And secondly if you become the lord of my flame you won't become some mindless husk, those idiots were only in that state because they sacrificed parts of their brain. You will move as freely as you want only being called upon when I need my will enforced. And since you doubt my power I'll give you a glimpse of what kind of power you can hold if you accept my offer. Don't worry, you won't die. I hope."

The copy of Samael raises his hand a sigil, one very similar to the ones the envoy's used appears behind its hand. This sigil is different, it's darker in color and there's a slight variation in it's design. A scarlet flame with a crimson hue flows into the copy's hand and forms a spear.

No words are spoken. Samael waits patiently, he learnt his lesson after the last encounter. And once again almost seemlessly Samael's arm is now wrapped in bandages. His best bet is to win this by prioritizing counter attacks.

The smirk on the copy widens as he rushes towards samael, he attempts to sweep his spear under Samael but Samael jumps over it and swings the back half of his spear at the copy.

But the copy catches the swing with his hand, and his smile grows even wider. He pulls Samael closer by by spear and blasts him in the chest with a large flame. The copy slowly walks towards Samael with the same sinister smile and begins to clobber him with the flaming spear.

The copy is moving too quickly for Samael to follow and and his attacks are too fast and consistent to react to. The copy is basically flying across the room attacking every time Samael thinks to catch a breath. He's being completely overwhelmed by this unstoppable force. Whenever he has some distance he's bombarded by an explosive rain of flaming spears and when he's close up he's being completely overpowered.

And most of all, It burns. All he can feel is his skin blistering up and peeling off, his muscles and flesh slowing being cooked with each swing of the spear. Samael is being cooked alive.

Until finally the copy walks over and reaches his hand out to Samael. The voice returns.

"That's not even close to the power you'll possess if you become a lord. Now then, I've shown you what you wanted to see. Accept my flame and your future will be boundless."

Samael is slouched on the floor, his heavy breath stripping the silence from the room, sweat and blood dripping from his body making a dialluted red pool under him. Samael is exhausted. But he's not beat.

You see, during the battle Samael came to a beautiful realization. When he first came to this strange place he was unarmed and his body was fine, so he assumed he was dreaming. But right when he felt threatened a spear seemlessly appeared in his hand, once he thought he was going to fight he thought of having a spear.

And when remembered his battle with the envoys his arm went back to being burnt and bandaged, like a harsh reminder he thought about when getting ready for battle.

The voice called this place Samael's "mind space." He realized, this is all in his head. His thoughts resonate with the world. And once he realized this fact the battle was over. He turned off his feeling of pain and he waited for the perfect moment.

Dozens of spears erupt from the floor and pierce through the clone. Samael slowly rises and wipes the blood from his mouth.

"You know, if you offered me that a couple days ago I would have accepted it without question."

"But I just started living, I'd be dammed if I cut it short now. I'm declining, I want complete freedom over my life!"

The body of the clone turns into flames and drifts away. The silence Is interrupted by a disappointed sigh.

"Well, don't say I didn't give you the option."

The room begins to shake and flames begin to rise all around, and slowly a pair of eyes open from above.

"You know, this could have been a lot easier for you. And to be completely honest, I hate being rejected."

Samael points his middle finger towards the pair of eyes.

"Like hell, you're not getting anything from me!"

Dozens of spears erupt from the ground and fly towards the eyes.

The voice laughs hysterically as the flames close in on Samael.

"Don't worry, I always get what I want."

The flames enclose Samael he wakes up.

Samael begins to throw up prefusely and his body feels strange and overstimulated. Just a second ago he couldn't feel anything and now he feels everything. His skin touching his clothes, the wind hitting his face, his eyes moving around in his skull. And his burning arm.

Burning arm, his arm is.. on fire?

"AHHHH!"

Ezra burst into the room confused and he sees that Samael's arm is on fire. Ezra quickly helps samael stand up and rushes out of the tavern to find a priest or nurse.

In his frantic search he accidentally bumps into a man who reaks of alcohol. The man is blindfolded with a patchy beard. And he is in strange worn robes. Ezra quickly apologizes and attempts to ask for help.

"I apologize, but I'm in a rush, he needs some help! Do you where I could find a nurse or priest?"

"Ah, your friends having a problem with solra. I could help you out."

"Then please! Do something quick, It's spreading!"

The flames started on Samael's forearm area and now his whole arm is covered in scarlet flsmes.

The man places his hand on Samael's shoulder.

"Grit your teeth this might hurt a little."

A strange energy appears on the man's hand and Samael starts grunting in pain while gritting his teeth. But slowly the flames dissipate.

Samael falls onto the floor in a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, I thought I was goner."

Ezra giggles and sits next to Samael.

"I thought you were you too."

Samael swiftly stands up and does a slight bow to the man.

"Thank you for your help, if it wasn't for you I don't know what would have happened."

The man laughs a little and scratches his head.

"No need to thank me, I was just helping out."

The mans smile disappears and he gets serious.

"But the problem isn't over. From the looks of it you don't want to be a Solra user. I put a wall of aura in between your arm and the rest of your body but it will only last a week. To be honest I'm surprised you haven't been converted already. Kid, the aura in your body is abundant and strong. That's the only reason the solra didn't spread to the rest of your body, be grateful for that not me."

"Ok, so what can I do?"

These past few days Samael has grown more then anyone could imagine, He's not willing to give up anymore , He's tired overthinking and sitting around hopelessly. He's awakened something inside of himself. Resolve and ambition.

"You have two options kid. You either let the solra spread and become like those flame cultist, or I can do you a favor."

The man slowly pulls a spear from under his cloak.

"I can cut off your arm right now and you won't have to worry about the solra anymore. It won't be painless but if you have a priest or nurse do it they might miss some solra or make it even worse."

"So, what will it be?"