Pain of losing someone

The night was cold and dark as I raced through the streets, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The town was eerily quiet, the only sound the pounding of my feet against the cobblestones. The memories of what had just happened in the cottage burned in my mind, but there was no time to dwell on it. Elaine was in danger, and I had to save her.

I pushed my body to its limits, my muscles screaming in protest as I forced myself to move faster. The town square wasn't far now. I could already see the glow of torches ahead, hear the distant murmur of a gathering crowd. They were going to burn her—Elaine, the woman who had saved my life, who had given me a second chance. And I wasn't going to let them.

As I neared the square, I slowed down, taking cover behind a building. The square was filled with people, their faces twisted in a mixture of fear and anticipation as they waited for the execution to begin. In the center of the square, a large pyre had been built, its wood piled high and ready to burn. And standing beside it, her hands bound and her face pale in the flickering firelight, was Elaine.

My heart clenched at the sight of her. She looked so small, so fragile, standing there surrounded by the soldiers who had captured her. But even from this distance, I could see the defiance in her eyes, the way she held her head high despite the fear I knew she must be feeling.

I had to act quickly. I scanned the area, taking in the positions of the soldiers, the layout of the square. There were too many of them, far too many for me to take on alone. But I didn't have a choice. I couldn't let them kill her.

I moved silently along the edge of the square, staying in the shadows as I made my way closer to the pyre. My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword, the familiar weight of it grounding me, giving me the strength I needed to do what had to be done.

When I was close enough, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the fight to come. There was no turning back now. I had to save her, no matter the cost.

With a burst of energy, I sprang from the shadows, my sword flashing in the firelight as I charged at the nearest soldier. The element of surprise was on my side, and I cut him down before he even had a chance to react. The other soldiers turned toward me, their eyes widening in shock as they realized what was happening.

But I didn't give them time to respond. I fought with a ferocity I hadn't known I possessed, every strike of my sword fueled by a desperate need to reach Elaine. The soldiers were well-trained, their movements coordinated and efficient, but I was faster, stronger. I cut through them like a whirlwind, my mind focused on one thing and one thing only—saving her.

But as I fought, more soldiers began to close in on me, their numbers overwhelming. I could feel my strength beginning to wane, my movements becoming slower, more labored. I had already taken down several of them, but it wasn't enough. There were too many.

And then, out of nowhere, something slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. Pain exploded in my side as I hit the cobblestones, the breath driven from my lungs. I tried to push myself up, but a heavy boot pressed down on my back, pinning me to the ground.

I struggled against the weight, but it was no use. I was trapped, helpless, forced to watch as they dragged Elaine toward the pyre.

"No!" I shouted, my voice raw with desperation. "Don't do this!"

But my words fell on deaf ears. The soldiers ignored me, their attention focused on their grim task. I could see the terror in Elaine's eyes now, the way her body trembled as they forced her up onto the pyre. She tried to fight them, but her strength was no match for theirs.

And then, as they tied her to the stake, I saw it—the tears that welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she realized what was about to happen. My heart shattered at the sight, a rage unlike anything I had ever felt before surging through me.

But before I could do anything, the soldiers stepped back, and the leader—the man with the scar—stepped forward, a torch in his hand.

"No," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "Please, no…"

He raised the torch high, the flames dancing in the night air, and then, with a cruel smile, he threw it onto the pyre.

The fire caught quickly, the dry wood bursting into flames that licked hungrily at the night sky. Elaine's scream pierced the air, a sound so filled with pain and fear that it tore through me like a knife. I struggled against the weight on my back, my mind screaming for me to do something, anything to save her.

But it was too late. The flames had already taken hold, engulfing the pyre in a roaring inferno. And then, as I watched in horror, something unimaginable happened.

Elaine's tears, those last, desperate drops of sorrow, seemed to ignite something within her. Her body began to glow, a fiery light emanating from within her as the flames consumed her. And then, with a blinding flash, she burst into flames—her entire body engulfed in a blaze of fire that was both beautiful and terrifying.

The soldiers stumbled back in shock, their faces pale as they watched the spectacle before them. But I could only stare, my heart breaking as I realized what was happening. Elaine was gone. The woman who had saved me, who had given me a reason to keep going, was gone—consumed by the flames.

And something inside me snapped.

A roar of pure, unbridled rage tore from my throat, the sound of a man who had lost everything. The weight on my back disappeared as I surged to my feet, the world around me a blur of red and black. My vision narrowed, my focus sharpening to a single point—the soldiers who had taken her from me.

I didn't think, didn't feel. I was a force of nature, a hurricane of fury that tore through the square with a vengeance. My sword became an extension of my rage, slicing through flesh and bone with a brutality that shocked even me. The soldiers tried to fight back, but they were no match for the storm I had become.

I killed them all. Every last one of them. The man with the scar, the one who had thrown the torch, was the last to fall, his eyes wide with terror as I drove my sword through his chest. But even as he died, it wasn't enough. The rage still burned within me, a fire that wouldn't be quenched.

It wasn't until the last body hit the ground that I finally stopped, my chest heaving with exertion, my hands shaking. The square was silent now, the only sound the crackling of the dying fire. I stood there, surrounded by the carnage I had wrought, my mind numb with the weight of what had just happened.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

A figure standing in the shadows, watching me with cold, calculating eyes. It was a face I hadn't seen in years, a face I had thought I would never see again. But there he was, the man who had once been my friend, my comrade—the man who had betrayed me.

And in that moment, I knew. He was the one. He was the one who had told the soldiers to kill Elaine, the one who had orchestrated this entire nightmare.

A new wave of anger surged through me, but this time, it was different. This time, it was cold, calculated—a promise of vengeance that I would see through to the end.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "Why did you do this?"

He stepped out of the shadows, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Because, Reimer," he said, his voice dripping with malice, "it was always meant to be this way."

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the night, leaving me alone in the blood-soaked square, the flames of my anger burning hotter than ever.