despair

The fight was getting more desperate by the second. I ducked, rolled, and dodged, doing everything I could to avoid the searing flames that the man hurled at me. Every time I tried to get close enough to strike, he'd lash out with fire, forcing me to retreat. The heat was unbearable, and I could feel the sweat dripping into my eyes, stinging them, but I didn't dare take my focus off him for even a second.

I finally saw an opening and swung my sword, aiming for his side. The blade connected—briefly. But instead of the satisfying resistance of flesh and bone, I felt something else entirely. My sword... was melting. The metal warped and twisted as the intense heat from the man's body turned my weapon into little more than a puddle of molten steel. I jumped back, staring at the remains of my once-trusted blade, disbelief and fear flooding my mind.

'How the hell am I supposed to fight this guy if even my sword melts on contact?'

Realizing that I needed to change tactics—and fast—I led the man up a steep hill, hoping to use the terrain to my advantage. The hill was covered in rocks, large and small, providing some semblance of cover. I darted between them, using the boulders to block his line of sight and buy myself a few precious moments to think.

The man followed relentlessly, his fire burning brighter and hotter with each passing second. I could feel the intensity of his flames even when I wasn't directly in their path. It was like being in the middle of a furnace, and I knew that if I didn't come up with something soon, I'd end up just like the guards—burnt to a crisp.

I kept dodging his attacks, moving from rock to rock, each one barely holding up under the heat. But then, as I hid behind one of the larger boulders, I noticed something strange. The man had stopped chasing me. Instead, he was standing still, his eyes scanning the area with a dangerous intensity.

Then I saw it. The fire in his right arm wasn't just burning brighter—it was changing. The flames seemed to gather and condense, taking on a more defined shape. Within seconds, the fire had transformed into the form of a lion, its mane crackling with heat, its eyes glowing like embers.

'What the hell is that?' I thought, watching in disbelief as the lion took on a life of its own.

The man raised his hand, pointing directly at the rock I was hiding behind. "((Þæt se ǣt þē līcie))," he laughed, his voice filled with malice.

The lion roared, a deafening sound that shook the ground beneath me, and then it charged. I barely had time to react, diving out of the way as the fiery beast smashed into the rock, reducing it to nothing but burnt ashes and smoldering coal.

'This isn't good.'

The lion wasn't done. It turned toward me, its fiery jaws snapping, and charged again. I tried to dodge, but it was too fast. With a sickening crunch, the lion clamped down on my arm, its searing teeth sinking deep into flesh and bone. Pain exploded through my body, and I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat as I struggled to break free.

I managed to wrench myself away, but not before the lion tore my entire arm off. Blood poured from the stump, and I stumbled, barely able to stay on my feet. 'Keep moving, Nate. You've got to keep moving.'

I ran, the pain almost blinding, until I reached the edge of a cliff. Below me, a lake shimmered in the sunlight, its surface calm and undisturbed. The lion was right behind me, closing in for the kill.

'This is my only chance.'

As the lion lunged, I sidestepped at the last moment, letting its momentum carry it over the edge of the cliff. The fiery beast plunged into the water with a hiss, and for a moment, the entire lake seemed to boil, steam rising in thick clouds. I'd never seen so much vapor in my life.

But the lion didn't resurface. 'So, water can extinguish the lion... maybe it can do the same to the man-'

Before I could finish the thought, the man appeared behind me, his expression cold and calculating. He waved his hand, and with a burst of heat, the entire lake began to evaporate. The water hissed and bubbled, turning to steam in a matter of seconds until there was nothing left but a dry, cracked lakebed.

"((Ic gesēo hwæt þū sīedest gemynd. Hit ne byð nǣfre. Nīet gōd,))" the man sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

'Dammit.' My plan, my only hope of survival, had just gone up in steam—literally. And now, with no water and no way to defend myself, I was in serious trouble. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared down the man who was intent on turning me into ashes, my mind racing for any possible escape.