Infernal Desire

Into the Inferno

Talia watches the landscape of her homeland vanish as she and her father sit silently in the carriage. King Astar, Ruler of Dragons, declared peace with humans, and an end to centuries of war. The condition? A human princess must agree to marry his son. Of the dozens of eligible princesses, Talia was the only one brave enough to come forward. It took a lot of thinking and agonizing before she stormed into the council meeting wearing her mother’s silver dress and proclaiming, “I’ll do it. Send me.” She saw the color drain from her father’s face as the elders and members of the council instantly agreed. Her father protested and pleaded with the council to reconsider. They angrily asked why his daughter was any more precious than theirs.

“She is all I have left.” Her father, William de Kemp, said with tears in his hazel eyes. “Without her, my legacy is lost, and my family line ends.”

“The girl made her choice after much agonizing, William. You must respect her decision,” High Councilman Alder said solemnly.

“You are still young, William. You should be married with other children by now.” Councilwoman Cheshire chimed in. She had always been in love with William and with both of their spouses dead it was obvious where her intentions lie in her words.

“Father, I do not wish to leave you or our home. But if there is even the slightest chance that we can have peace, I am willing to take the first step.” Talia said in a strong, clear voice. Her mother had taught her a long time ago how to show authority in the face of great people. They would not have the opportunity to look down on you with your head high and your voice resounding. Talia’s voice resounded, her intentions and bravery made clear to all.

William looked at his daughter with pleading in his eyes, but Talia avoided his gaze, making eye contact with each councilperson. One look at her father’s pain would shake her resolve.

“Very well, Talia de Kemp. You will go to Ignis in a week and marry their prince. Leave the legalities and other matters to us. We will do our best to ensure you are safe there.” Elder Lavish proclaimed, raising a withered hand to silence her father’s protest. William instantly fell silent. Talia bowed to the council and left the hall with her father following closely behind her.

The day to leave came too quickly, and now Talia watches as the lush, emerald hills turn into charred earth from the war 3 years ago, the war that took her mother. Small patches of green are sprouting at intervals. The land is healing itself as though blessing the peace to come. A single branch from a dying tree hangs low as they pass, and she reaches up to pluck it. She holds the charred remains of the once beautiful foliage on her lap and glances at her father. He refuses to meet her gaze. He sits on the opposite side of the carriage, his slightly plumper body jostling as the road becomes rocky and uneven, years of neglect evident in the path.

“Father, will you not speak to me at all?” Talia asks, leaning across the short distance to place her hand over his. “We have such a short time left together. Only the gods know when we will see each other again.”

After a moment, her father lets out a sigh and turns his hand to grasp hers. Turning weary eyes to meet hers, his lips curl into a sad smile.

“You are right, Talia. I apologize. I just can’t think of letting you go. It is too hard a thought for me to bear. But I must bear it mustn’t I?” He covers her hand with his other one, and they fall silent again. The silence is warm but heavy. How do you say goodbye to a person you’ve been with all your life? After a moment, her father speaks again, “It is a brave thing you are doing for our country, for our world. I’m sure everyone is grateful to you.”

Talia simply smiles and does not answer. She remembers how the women her age had looked at her because she chose to train in swordplay with her cousins, chose to wear more loose-fitting dresses, and refused corsets or heeled shoes. Talia is completely averse to fashion and the newest trends never interested her. She took after her mother in that regard, and the ladies of the high court never let her forget it. She found it funny that, as she was preparing to leave, these same women came to her with tears in their eyes thanking her for her sacrifice and offering her gifts and words of encouragement. Those gifts now sat at the bottom of the lake in her palace’s courtyard. Talia is not a fan of false emotions, and she would not have that negativity in her possession as she goes to face her fate. She was an outcast, and they couldn't care less if she was gone or not. Imagine how they would react to learn she was a sorcerer.

The carriage rounds a corner a little too fast and Talia releases her father’s hand to grip the window. “Be careful out there, Nigel! We would like to arrive in one piece!” William yells, but not sternly. He always treats the servants like family. Anyone who has ever worked for William de Kemp never leaves and says nothing but nice things about the family.

Her father had always been against slavery and indentured servitude. Upon his father's death and his inheritance of the estate, he offered each person, slave or servant, a chance at a better life, whether they chose to stay or not. He reformed the entire system to include fair pay, vacation days, and yearly health checks to ensure longevity.

All but one man, who held a grudge against Talia’s grandfather, stayed to reap the benefits. Many noble people followed William's example after seeing how his land prospered under the new order. The slavery revolts died down except in a few provinces, and those that remained in her father’s employ learned to fight to protect the lands. Talia always made sure to be involved in anything that included combat training. She was friends with every worker on her land. The only friends she ever really had.

As the rocky roads give way to rough mountainous trails, Talia can feel her pulse in her throat. She will enter Ignis from the narrowest point in the Burning Sea, a river of lava miles long and miles across. At its narrowest point, it is only about five miles; at its widest, thirty. The elders had assured her she would be escorted across when she arrived.

The country of Ignis was said to be so hot that humans could not live there or travel there without special clothes. Talia now wears such a garment. A tight-fitting, silky, pale orange dress with ice crystals adorning the hem and plunging neckline. Her messy curls are tamed into a smooth bun on top of her head and her mother’s golden headband sits perfectly in place, the single teardrop-shaped fire stone twinkling on her forehead. The orange of the dress makes her mocha skin glow brilliantly. Her handmaids had oiled her skin to a smooth glisten, making her skin look like polished mahogany.

Talia can feel the temperature change now. Castro is approaching winter, but there is no winter in Ignis. The heat brushes her skin, and she trembles with fear for the first time since announcing her intentions to marry the prince. Her father pulls his cloak, ice crystals around the collar, around himself and they begin to glow. As Talia watches the crystal’s light dance on her father’s skin, she feels her skin begin to cool and adjust to the temperature. She hears bubbling and rumbling from outside and looks to see the sky is crimson and thick with smoke.

Her father grips her wrist and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. She feels his tears hit her cheek, and she fights the urge to yell at Nigel to turn back and take her home. They are nearing the final goodbye and neither of them can handle it.