Shadow of the flame
1639 Words
Morgana looked at him, really looked, and something inside her cracked open. The love that had once felt like salvation now felt like a curse and she knew that the prophecy wasn’t a story of fate. It was a warning.
They were not running from the beast.
They were the reason it lived.
They rode until the night swallowed them, until the flames behind them were only a dull glow on the horizon. Exhausted, they dismounted at the edge of a waterfall, the spray cold against their skin.
Morgana leaned into Lucius, her body trembling. “If the prophecy is true,” she whispered, “then every heartbeat we share is another step toward ruin.”
Lucius cupped her face, his eyes glistening with firelight and grief. “Then let ruin come,” he said. “I’d rather burn beside you than live in a world without you.”
The roar of the waterfall drowned out her sob.
Above them, in the darkened sky, Aliath’s shadow circled once more.
And the prophecy breathed.
The wind reeked of smoke and blood.
For days, Morgana and Lucius had fled beneath the ashen sky, their horses thin and trembling, their hearts beating to the same fearful rhythm. Wherever they went, the world burned behind them.
The prophecy had ceased to be a story. It had become their shadow.
They rode through the ghosted remains of villages, houses collapsed to cinders, bodies charred in the streets. The silence after each village was the worst part. Morgana could feel the pulse of the beast through the earth beneath her feet. The closer Aliath came, the heavier the air grew.
At night, she dreamed of fire. Of eyes like molten gold. Of a whisper that slipped between her thoughts.
You woke me. You belong to me.
She would wake with a gasp, Lucius’s arms tightening around her, his voice a fragile comfort against the storm. “It’s only a dream,” he’d murmur. But even he didn’t believe that anymore.
When dawn came, they reached the edge of the mountain valley. Below, a waterfall thundered down into a misty hollow, a place hidden from the world. Lucius helped Morgana down from her horse, his hands trembling slightly from exhaustion.
“We can rest here,” he said, voice hoarse. “Just for a while.”
Morgana looked at him, his face smeared with dirt and blood, eyes still bright with that stubborn hope that had carried them this far. She wanted to believe in that light. She wanted to believe that love could still save them.
But in her chest, something else stirred.
A heartbeat that wasn’t hers.
Far from them, through the smoking ruins of the east, Aliath moved like a living storm. The earth quaked beneath its steps. Its wings stretched wide enough to block out the sun.
But it wasn’t rage that drove it now. It was curiosity.
It could feel her. The flame that woke it. The mortal girl whose love had broken the seal that kept it asleep for a thousand years.
Her emotions whispered to it, fear, grief, longing.
The beast followed those echoes like a scent through time.
At the edge of the forest, something ancient stirred a familiar pulse. The Oracle’s castle loomed ahead, its towers woven with the bones of the earth. Aliath’s eyes glowed brighter.
The Oracle had been the one who once bound it in chains of prophecy and magic. And now it had come for answers.
Inside the castle, the Oracle sensed the beast long before it arrived. Her eyes rolled white as she whispered to the wind, “So the circle begins again.”
The walls trembled as Aliath landed before the gate, its voice rolling like thunder through the stones.
You lied to the world. You said I would never wake.
The Oracle stepped into the open courtyard, her robes whispering across the floor. “You were never meant to,” she replied calmly. “Your awakening was sealed to the blood of love. Only through it could the curse break.”
Aliath’s wings folded, the metal scales grinding against each other like armor. Then why do I burn? Why does she call to me even as she flees?
“Because she carries what you are,” the Oracle said softly. “You are bound by the same fire. Her birth was not a blessing, but the echo of your prison. You live because she loves. And you will die when that love ends.”
The beast’s growl shook the mountain. Then she is my heart.
“Yes,” the Oracle whispered. “And your doom.”
The ground cracked beneath the creature’s weight. The Oracle’s words twisted through its mind like smoke, truth and torment bound together.
Aliath lowered its head until its burning eyes met hers.
Then I will not let her die.
The Oracle smiled faintly. “And that, mighty one, is how she will kill you.”
Aliath roared, a sound that split the heavens and launched into the air, the force of its wings scattering the Oracle’s robes like fallen snow.
It turned east, following the pulse of its flame.
Back at the waterfall, Lucius washed the soot from his hands in the cold water. Morgana knelt beside him, her reflection rippling across the surface. For a fleeting moment, she almost looked like the girl she once was, the curious noble’s daughter, bright-eyed and untouched by fate.
But when she touched the water, it hissed.
Lucius froze. “Morgana…”
She pulled her hand back, startled. “It’s nothing. The water’s cold.”
But they both saw it: a faint ember glowing beneath her skin.
Morgana’s voice trembled. “It’s inside me, Lucius. I feel it, the fire. It’s alive.”
He grasped her hands, ignoring the faint burn that tingled at his fingertips. “Then we’ll find a way to stop it. We always do.”
She smiled weakly, but her eyes were glassy with tears. “You don’t understand. The more I love you… the stronger it gets.”
Lucius shook his head, desperate. “Don’t say that.”
“If I let it die, maybe the world would live.”
“Don’t you dare.” His voice cracked. “You are my world.”
For a long time, they said nothing. Only the roar of the falls filled the silence, like the beating of an ancient heart.
Night came, heavy and breathless. They built a small fire beneath the cliff, their bodies pressed close for warmth. The stars flickered above them, veiled in the smoke of faraway fires.
Morgana’s head rested on Lucius’s chest. “Do you think we were meant for this?” she whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“To love this much,” she said. “To love until it burns the world down.”
Lucius’s hand traced idle circles along her arm. “If it was fate, then I’d choose it again. Every time.”
She looked up at him, her eyes soft, her lips trembling. “Then let me remember you like this before everything ends.”
Their lips met, slow and aching. The world seemed to still, the air thick with sorrow and desire. His hand tangled in her hair, her tears mixing with the kiss.
Above them, hidden in the clouds, two golden eyes watched.
Aliath had found them.
The ground shook as the beast descended through the storm, the waterfall quivering under the weight of its presence. Lucius felt the tremor first, pulling Morgana close. “It’s here,” he whispered.
Morgana’s pulse throbbed with the same rhythm as the beast’s. The sound of its wings was like a heartbeat echoing in her skull.
Lucius stood, drawing his sword though he knew it was useless. “Go behind the falls,” he ordered. “Hide until I”
“Until you what?” she cried. “Fight that? Lucius, you’ll die!”
“Then I’ll die buying you a chance to live!”
He turned toward the storm, eyes blazing with a courage born of love and madness. The waterfall roared louder, masking their shouts, their tears.
Morgana ran after him, seizing his arm. “If you die, it ends. If I die, it ends. Either way, the prophecy wins.”
He cupped her face, trembling. “Then we’ll make our own prophecy.”
For a heartbeat, they held each other. two fragile souls defying destiny itself.
Then Aliath’s shadow fell over them, blotting out the moon.
The beast landed atop the cliff, fire spilling from its jaws, its voice rolling like thunder through their bones.
Do not fear me, flame-born. I am what you are.
Morgana stepped forward, her eyes burning gold to match its own. “Then take me,” she whispered. “But spare him.”
Lucius grabbed her hand. “No! Don’t”
Aliath lowered its head, the air around them vibrating with heat. If you die, I die. If you love, I live. So what shall it be, child of fire?
Morgana looked at Lucius, tears cutting clean lines through the ash on her cheeks. “Forgive me,” she whispered.
And before he could speak, she pressed her lips to his one last time, soft, desperate, final.
The air ignited.
A column of flame burst upward, swallowing the waterfall in light. Lucius screamed her name, his voice lost in the inferno. The beast roared a sound not of rage, but anguish, as its form dissolved into ash and fire that rose toward the heavens.
When the light faded, Lucius was alone.
The waterfall still thundered, but the world had fallen silent.
In the spray, faint and fleeting, he thought he saw her. Morgana’s reflection smiling through the mist, eyes bright as dawn.
And then she was gone.
- Writer
