Fate on a blaze.

From the high balcony of the palace, the king stood silently, his gaze fixed on the courtyard below. The beast was a mesmerizing sight, even in its chains. Its fiery eyes gleamed in the torchlight, scanning its surroundings with a quiet intelligence that unnerved him. Though bound by iron and surrounded by guards, the creature did not struggle or roar. It simply watched. Its stillness was more terrifying than any violent outburst could have been.

The king's hands gripped the stone railing, his knuckles whitening. Fear gnawed at him, not for himself but for his people. He had seen too much in his reign, wars, famine and rebellion. Yet this…this was something far beyond the natural world. He had no doubt the creature was dangerous, its very existence a threat to the fragile peace they were trying to maintain.

"Father."

The king turned to see his son, the prince, stride into the balcony chamber. His golden armor gleamed, polished to perfection despite the late hour. The prince carried himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his chin held high and his lips curled in a faint smirk.

"The court meeting is ready," the prince announced, his voice tinged with impatience. "The council awaits your presence."

The king nodded slowly, his gaze shifting back to the courtyard. "Good. But before we attend, I have orders for the beast."

The prince raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Orders? What orders?"

The king's tone was steady, but there was no mistaking the authority in his voice. "The creature is to be moved to the dungeons immediately. It is too dangerous to remain in the courtyard."

The prince's smirk faltered, replaced by a frown. "The dungeons? Father, with all due respect, that's unnecessary. The people should see it. Let them witness the victory we've achieved. This is a moment of pride for the kingdom!"

The king's sharp gaze snapped to his son. "Pride? Is that what you call it?"

"Yes, Father." The prince stepped forward, his voice rising slightly. "The soldiers fought and bled to bring that thing here. They deserve to have their victory acknowledged, and the people deserve to see what their kingdom has accomplished. Locking it away in the dungeons will diminish what this means."

The king studied his son, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice low but firm. "I am the king. And as king, I will not risk the safety of my people for the sake of pride. The beast is dangerous, even in chains. It must be contained."

The prince's jaw tightened. "Father, you're being—"

"Enough." The king's voice cut through the air like a blade. He straightened, his imposing figure casting a long shadow in the moonlight. "You forget yourself, my son. This is not a debate. The beast will be locked in the dungeons, and that is final."

For a moment, the prince said nothing, his fists clenching at his sides. His eyes burned with frustration, but he bit back his retort. "As you wish, Father," he said stiffly, his tone laced with bitterness.

The king's expression softened slightly as he watched his son turn to leave. "I do this not out of distrust for you, but out of love for our people," he said quietly.

The prince paused in the doorway, his shoulders tense. Without turning, he replied, "Of course, Father. I understand."

But the king knew his son too well. He could sense the resentment simmering beneath the surface, the disappointment in his voice. The prince had always craved his approval, and the king had always struggled to give it. Despite his flaws, the king loved his son deeply. But love alone could not make up for the boy's recklessness, his constant need to prove himself in ways that often come into vain.

As the prince's footsteps faded, the king turned his gaze back to the courtyard. Guards were already beginning to prepare the beast for transport. It snarled softly as the chains tightened around its limbs, its fiery eyes flaring for a brief moment before it fell silent once more.

The king sighed, his heart heavy. He had hoped that capturing the beast would bring a sense of closure, a step toward rebuilding their fractured kingdom. But instead, it felt like the beginning of something far more dangerous.

And as the beast was led away, its glowing eyes briefly locked with his. In that moment, the king felt an unsettling sensation, as if the creature could see straight into his soul.

He shivered and turned away, heading toward the council chamber. 

At the grand hall of the court, the tension was palpable as murmurs and hushed whispers filled the air of the room. Flickering torches illuminated the chamber, casting shadows on the walls as council members debated with growing urgency. All eyes were fixed on the king's empty chair at the head of the long, polished table.

The subject of their fear and discussion was the fire beast. The creature too close for the comfort, locked in the dungeons beneath their feet. Even there, its presence was felt, a heavy fear pressing down on them all.

Finally, the king entered. His heavy robes sweeping the floor, his strong steps echoing through the hall. His commanding presence seemed to quiet the storm for a moment, silence fell across the room.

"We must act quickly," the king began, his voice steady but grim. "The beast must be delivered to our enemies as promised. This was the condition for sparing our people."But the king's voice lingered with guilty as a king he ahould have done better than that, securing his people's peace 

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, some agreeing with the king, others protesting. One elderly council member rose from his seat, his voice trembling with both age and fear. "Your Majesty, how can we trust they will keep their word even after we hand over such a dangerous creature? This… abomination could just as easily be used against us."

Before the king could respond, the prince stood abruptly, raising his hand to command attention. "I have a better solution."

The murmurs quieted, replaced by wary glances as all eyes turned to the prince. He stepped forward, his golden armor catching the firelight, his expression a mix of confidence and defiance.

"We should keep the beast," he declared, his voice echoing through the hall. "Let it be a symbol of our victory. Let it stand as a warning to our enemies and a source of strength for our people. And more than that…" He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. "We can tame it. Train it to fight for us in future wars. Imagine the power we would wield!"

The room erupted once again, this time with shock and disbelief. Council members exchanged incredulous looks, their voices overlapping in heated whispers.

The king raised a hand for silence, his stern gaze fixed on his son. "Tame it?" he repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. "And what do you know of this creature, my son? Do you even understand what it is you propose? This beast is a stranger to us, wild, dangerous, and beyond our control. How can you be so sure it can be tamed at all?"

The prince opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, another voice cut through the room.

"How can you even speak here, Prince, when it was your failure that brought this calamity upon us?"

All heads turned to a man seated at the far end of the table, his face lined with bitterness. He was one of the oldest and most respected members of the council, known for his sharp tongue and unyielding opinions.

The prince's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I am trying to fix what has been broken," he said, his voice trembling slightly with anger and frustration.

"You lost the war," the man continued mercilessly. "And now you stand here, proposing reckless ideas that will only bring more ruin to our kingdom. How dare you?"

"Enough!" the king's voice boomed, silencing the room once more. He turned to his son, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "Tell me, my son. You speak of taming the beast and preparing for war. But how do you propose to do this? And what of the promise you made to our enemies? Do you truly believe they will sit idly by while we defy them?"

The prince took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Father, I have already taken steps to ensure our kingdom's safety. I have sent for help from Mary's kingdom, my wife. They have promised to send reinforcements. All I ask is that we wait three days. Just three days, and we will have the strength to face whatever comes our way."

The king studied his son carefully, his expression unreadable. "Three days," he said finally. "And what if the reinforcements do not come ?."

"They will come," the prince insisted, though his voice lacked the certainty he wished it had. "Mary has gone to speak on my behalf. She will not fail."

The king's gaze softened slightly at the mention of Mary. She was a wise and capable woman, far more level-headed than his impulsive son. Still, the weight of the decision rested heavily on his shoulders.

"Very well," the king said at last. "We will wait three days. But understand this, my son. If the reinforcements do not come, the beast will be delivered as promised. And there will be no further discussion on the matter."

The prince nodded, though his shoulders slumped slightly under the weight of his father's words. "Thank you, Father."