The Warmth of the Hearth
Smite the Weak

An exhausted Carson enters the battered throne room of the Capital, its once proud banners now sway, torn against the dull concrete walls. Noah sits on the throne; head leaned against one hand as he eyes Carson with a grin. “Ah, Carson!” He gets up to meet the now still Blaise, eyeing the young man with intensity. “Always so punctual. That’s why I like you Carson.” Noah places both of his hands on top of Carson’s shoulders, meeting his gaze as his smile never leaves his face.

Carson doesn’t move, trying to contain all of his anger, now threatening to erupt. “What have you called me for, Noah?” His crimson eyes sweep across the room and fall on Varsha, leaning against the throne. “I have done my part, I expect you to do yours.”

“Ahh, yes. Always so uptight, just like your father.” Noah doesn’t move for a moment, never ceasing to look at Carson in the eye. “Look where that got him.” In one swift motion, he stabs the young Blaise with a dagger, twisting it as Carson leans on him in response. “So much talent wasted, such a shame.”

Carson struggles to breathe, gasping for air as Noah pulls the dagger out and pulls his head closer. He hears Noah’s whispering voice in his ear, his vision foggy as blood gushes out from his stomach. “You were a fool to trust your enemy. In the end, you are no more than a child.” Noah throws him to the ground, the impact of the fall an agonizing pain as he wrenches, struggling to keep his eyes on Noah. Poison. “Do not worry about your sister, you’ll see her soon.” Carson’s eyes fall into darkness, the image of Noah walking away was the last thing he sees as he succumbs to sleep.

Luke jolts awake beneath a mountain of broken wood, a bright streak of sunlight hitting him in the face as he struggles to push himself up. He finds himself in the debris of his old home, the once proud manor no longer recognizable to him. Luke hears a commotion outside, arguments that seemed to stem from the street in front. He peers his head out, making sure he stays out of sight while doing so.

Four masked men shove two academy students on the ground, one male and one female. The men were Zephyr users while one of the students was a Llyr user. The male had no trace of manna, he was Mannaless. “Pathetic, relying on a woman to save you.” One of the masked men barks, taunting the guy on the ground. “And you, why do you waste your time protecting such useless scum?”

The girl doesn’t respond, instead pulling out a small knife from her pocket as her eyes glow a bright cyan. She doesn’t flinch as a sharp blade of air appears in front of the loud man. More blades appear as the other three join in, their eyes glowing a bright tinge of white beneath their masks. The guy picks himself up beside him, brandishing a knife of his own.

“Very well, you shall die along with the boy. Smite the weak, strike down the Feeble.” The men swiftly move to surround the two, barring any chance of escape. “May you be loved by manna in your next life.”

Luke quickly springs into action, lifting four searing white walls of flame around the two, encasing them in a box of safety as the winds dissipates from the heat. He leaps down and in one simultaneous motion, expands four pillars of white flame from the walls, causing the assailants to stagger backwards and retreat. All of their heads turn to face him, Luke feeling the breeze on his torn shirt. “Burn.” His eyes grow a violent white as the pillars further expand and devour all of the attackers in an instant, turning them into ash.

The flames dissipate, travelling back towards him as the two students look at him warily. “Laisren?!” The girl asks, a look of pure fright plastered on her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?!” Rachel Brims, one of the only people who didn’t hate Luke, held the guy beside him, one Luke failed to recognize. Her dark shortly cut hair accented her bright cyan eyes and pale skin, the light seemingly reflecting off of her. House Brims was never a house to be recognized, but was never one to be taken for granted either, sitting comfortably in the middle of the Noble hierarchy. “H-how?!”

“It’s a long story.” Luke eyes the guy beside her, no fear present in his eyes despite knowing that he had no chance against Luke. “Who’s this?”

“Luke, meet Evan. Evan, Luke.” He extends out an arm, which Luke promptly takes. “Evan was part of the Maga program, which was spearheaded by the Academy. He’s a good friend of mine.” Rachel looks at Evan, causing him to blush and look away. “What are you doing here in the city? And since when did you become so... burny?”

“I’m looking for Carson, and that’s a story for another time.” Luke hears a number of faint footsteps heading towards them and he gestures them to run. “Head for the mountains! If you see Olin or Claire, tell them you’re with me and that I’ll catch up to you guys later!”

Rachel hesitates, looking at the unrecognizable Luke Laisren in front of her. “What about you?” She sees him simply smile and gestures for them to go. Rachel nods, now running away with Evan. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The wind shifts as more masked men appear around the corner and on the roofs of the toppled buildings. A dozen. “Isn’t this a bit overkill?” Luke’s eyes sweep the area and find another four creeping up behind him. He was surrounded, but he wasn’t worried. He focuses his senses and he sees them clearly, colors shining brightly in his surroundings. He could see them; he could see what they are. I see everything. Something unlocks within him, an ability going beyond what Seers are normally capable of, a sight given only to those who were chosen. Agni calls through the Hearthfire.

The figures dash towards him as he doesn’t flinch, continuing to look onward with even breaths. A trail of white flame coils around him, slithering around his arms as his eyes grow a bright white. “Don’t cry if you get burnt.”

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