Chapter Four: The Fallen Flame
1261 Words
The Beast Hunters
Chapter Four: The Fallen Flame
Word Count: ~1,600+ words
---
Northern Border – Kwatara Stronghold – Midnight
The wind carried the scent of blood long before the Baloguns arrived.
Perched on a rocky hill between Kaduna and Zaria, the Kwatara Stronghold had once stood as an impenetrable outpost of the Order. It was built with sacred stone, sealed with the sigils of old kingdoms, and guarded by seasoned hunters. For centuries, it had never fallen.
Until now.
John gripped the reins of his stallion tighter as they approached the ruins. Flames still flickered on the shattered walls. Smoke curled into the night sky like the arms of mourning spirits.
“No survivors,” whispered Amina. “Not even the children.”
“The Beasts used something different this time,” murmured Okoye, stepping carefully through the debris. “No signs of forced entry. No claw marks. They… appeared inside.”
The Eldest knelt before a blood-stained stone and touched the ground.
“They used a forbidden Shadow Gate,” he said grimly. “Something has taught them our ancient paths.”
John turned to him. “Who could teach the Beasts the ways of the Order?”
The Eldest didn’t answer immediately. He stared into the firelight, his face dark. “Only a former hunter.”
---
Moments Later – The Warning
Scrawled across the interior walls, in thick, drying blood, was a message:
“THE FLAME WILL FLICKER. THE BALOGUN WILL FALL.”
John felt a chill crawl down his spine. The ground vibrated faintly beneath his feet.
“It’s a trap,” muttered Oba Goke, stepping forward, his silver-threaded armor gleaming in the firelight. “They’re not done here.”
“Then we fight,” Okoye growled, drawing his twin blades. “Let them come.”
As if summoned by those words, the air grew heavy.
A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows.
Then the Beasts descended.
---
The Battle – Ambush at Kwatara
From the scorched treetops and shattered walls, they leapt—more than a hundred of them. Larger than before. Some wore broken armor from fallen hunters. Others had glowing glyphs carved into their flesh. Their eyes burned like dying stars.
“DEFENSIVE FORMATION!” the Eldest shouted.
The Order erupted into motion.
Flames danced across the battlefield. Spears of fire impaled crawling Beasts. Arrows of light rained from Baloguns stationed atop the ridge. But it wasn’t enough.
These Beasts were smarter. Faster. Coordinated.
John fought alongside Oba Goke, the older warrior’s movements graceful and deadly. Despite his age, Goke moved like flowing water—every strike precise, every step calculated.
John slammed his staff into a lunging Beast, igniting its face in blue fire. Another came from the side—Oba Goke decapitated it in one clean motion.
“Stay close!” Goke barked.
But John’s eyes were drawn to the hill behind them.
There—shrouded in shadow—stood a figure.
Larger than the rest. Cloaked in black bone armor. Its mouth was sealed with iron thread. Its eyes glowed with cruel intelligence.
“The Reaver…” whispered the Eldest. “One of the Ebon King’s warlords.”
With a howl, the Reaver lifted its massive axe—an ancient, jagged weapon forged from the remains of cursed metal—and charged into battle.
Baloguns were flung like dolls. One screamed as her chest was crushed beneath its blow.
John rushed forward.
“No!” Goke shouted. “He’ll kill you!”
But it was too late.
---
John vs. The Reaver
The Reaver swung. John ducked just in time, the axe carving a crater into the ground.
He countered with a blast of fire—but the flames curved around the Reaver as if repelled.
It laughed—a horrible, dry rattle that sounded like death itself.
“Your fire… means nothing.”
It swung again.
John raised his staff, blocking the strike, but the impact sent him flying.
Blood filled his mouth. His vision blurred.
The Reaver advanced, slowly, savoring the moment.
Then, like lightning, Oba Goke appeared between them.
“You’ll not touch him.”
The Reaver laughed again. “Old fool. You should’ve died with your ancestors.”
Goke didn’t answer. He raised his blade—and charged.
---
Oba Goke’s Last Stand
Steel clashed with cursed iron.
Goke moved like a spirit of war, striking faster than John had ever seen. The Reaver blocked, countered, roared in frustration.
The duel raged across the battlefield.
But even warriors age.
Even legends bleed.
The Reaver feinted low, then drove its axe into Goke’s side. Blood sprayed. Goke stumbled—but didn’t fall.
With a cry of fury, he drove his sword deep into the Reaver’s chest.
But it wasn’t enough.
The Reaver snarled and drove its clawed hand through Oba Goke’s chest.
John screamed. “NO!”
Goke turned his head, blood streaming from his mouth, and smiled weakly at John.
“Remember… the fire isn’t just power. It’s sacrifice.”
With the last of his strength, he pulled the Reaver close—and whispered a word into its ear.
“Ina-ojo.”
The blade embedded in the Reaver’s chest exploded, taking both of them in a column of fire.
---
The Aftermath of Fire
Silence.
Only the crackle of burning bodies and the distant sobs of wounded hunters remained.
John fell to his knees beside what remained of Oba Goke—only ash and a shattered sword.
The flames inside him surged.
His hands shook. The staff trembled in his grip. His vision blurred—not from tears, but from the blaze welling up in his soul.
He stood.
A dozen Beasts charged.
He didn’t think.
He screamed—and the world burned.
---
The Wrath of the Sixteenth Flame
Flames erupted from his body in waves—white-hot, divine, and unchained.
The ground scorched in a perfect ring around him. Beasts turned to ash mid-leap. Even nearby hunters were forced to shield their faces.
John walked forward, eyes glowing like stars, his body surrounded by fire.
He moved through the battlefield like a god of war—unstoppable, untouchable, furious.
And when the last Beast fell, charred and broken, he dropped to his knees.
Smoke curled from his skin. His breathing was ragged.
He had won.
But at what cost?
---
Return to the Hall of Ash
The Order limped back home, wounded and weary.
John didn’t speak for hours.
The Eldest found him by the Flame Pool, where sacred fire reflected the stars above.
“He died to protect you,” the Eldest said gently.
John nodded. “He died because I wasn’t strong enough.”
“No. He died because he believed you would be.”
The Eldest sat beside him. “But heed me well, John. Fire is not only for burning. It is for forging. Goke’s death is not the end of your journey—it is the beginning of your burden.”
John stared into the flames.
“I nearly lost myself.”
“And if you do again,” the Eldest warned, “you will not just burn Beasts. You will burn everything.”
---
Far Away – The Ebon King’s Throne
The Reaver’s severed helm was laid before the throne.
The Ebon King said nothing.
Only a slow, steady chuckle echoed through the Beast realm.
“So… the Sixteenth Flame has teeth.”
He leaned forward.
“Then we’ll give him something real to scream about.”
---
To be continued in Chapter Five: Echoes of Olayinka
- Writer
