The Night Everything Burned

It was a dark, moonless night where the only light came from the cold, distant flicker of a thousand stars.

 

The world blurred as I kicked my horse, urging it to go forward.

 

“Faster,” I whispered. My voice cracked against the biting wind.

 

The cold night air burned my lungs. My chest hurt with each breath. Hooves struck the dirt road again and again, sending steady jolts through me. The forest rushed past in the dark. Branches hit my armour, leaves struck my face, but I felt nothing.

 

Somewhere behind me, dozens of horses followed. My men, the knights of the Grand Duchy, were struggling to keep pace with me.

 

I smelled it before I saw it. Smoke.

 

It was thick and bitter. My heart skipped a beat, then pounded in my chest. I leaned forward, gripping the reins until my knuckles turned white.

 

“No,” I muttered. “No, no, no.”

 

The trees finally thinned and the road widened. We emerged from the forest into the open.

 

I finally saw it.

 

The Grand Duchy, my home, rose in the distance. It was… covered in fire. The stone walls were painted a bright orange by the flames. The town surrounding it was already gone. Buildings collapsed in on themselves. The flames were devouring everything.

 

Screams pierced the night. They were loud enough to be heard over the thunder of hooves.

 

My people were dying. I saw them running trying to survive. Men, women, and even children. Some were covered in fire, others were being cut down by black robed figures who showed no mercy. The ground was slick with blood, reflecting the fire like a mirror.

 

My vision shook.

 

“Split up!” I roared. “Half of you, save whoever you can! Protect the townspeople! The rest, with me to the castle!”

 

“Yes, my lord!”

 

The formation broke. My knights veered off, charging into the chaos. I didn’t look back. I couldn't. All that mattered was the castle.

 

I pushed my horse beyond its limit. I could feel its muscles quivering. Arrows whistled through the air. One struck the ground inches from my mount’s hooves.

 

The black robed figures saw me. They caught sight of the banner on my cloak. They realized who was riding straight for the flames. They moved to stop me.

 

I drew my sword.

 

The first man reached for my reins. I cut him down without slowing. The second raised a blade, but I cut off his head in one motion. Warm blood sprayed all over my armour. Another came from the side. I twisted and severed his leg at the knee.

 

By the time I reached the gates, a trail of bodies lay behind me.

 

The iron gates of the castle were half open warped by the heat. I leapt from my horse before it even stopped.

 

“Go,” I slapped its neck. “Run.”

 

The animal fled into the smoke. I ran inside.

 

The castle was already dead. Flames burned the walls, consuming the legacy of my ancestors. Chandeliers lay shattered on the marble floor. Blood pooled in the cracks of the stone. It was thick enough to soak into my boots.

 

A maid lay against the wall near the entrance. Her eyes were still open. She was still clutching a tray. My teeth clenched until my jaw ached.

 

I ran.

 

I passed a butler further down the hall. His throat had been slit. I saw two guards near the stairs, their armour pierced through. People I saw every morning were now just bodies on the floor.

 

Black robed figures poured from the side corridors. They didn’t slow me down.

 

Steel rang as my sword met theirs. My men caught up and we carved our way through the castle. I drove my blade through a man’s chest, ripped it free, spun and blocked a strike meant for my neck. I headbutted the next one, felt his face break, then killed him with a thrust to the eye.

 

We moved step by step, floor by floor. Piles of bodies lay behind us as we advanced, comrades and enemies alike.

 

By the time I reached the throne room, only a handful of my men were alive.

 

My pulse was pounding in my ears. I needed to be faster. I felt like if I was fast enough, I could undo this all. The doors were wide open. Firelight poured out of the room.

 

I slowed down. My men fell silent behind me.

 

I stepped inside.

 

The world stopped.

 

Flames crawled up the pillars. The stained glass windows had shattered. Shards were scattered across the floor.

 

At the foot of the throne lay a woman.

 

Her dress was torn and soaked in red. A deep slash ran across her chest. Her brown hair was matted with blood. I stared at her lifeless hands, the same hands that had tucked me in every night, now cold and stained red.

 

It was my mother.

 

I couldn't breathe. A sound caught in my throat, something between a sob and a scream.

 

Then I looked at the throne.

 

My father was slumped forward. A sword was buried straight through his heart, pinning him to the seat as if mocking his authority. His crown was crooked and stained with blood. His eyes stared ahead, empty, retaining a quiet dignity even in death.

 

Something inside me broke.

 

I don’t remember crossing the distance. One moment I was at the door. The next, I was at the throne swinging my blade with a roar.

 

The black robed woman standing in front of my father’s corpse pulled her sword out. She flicked the blood off the edge and turned to face me. A black hood hid her face.

 

Our blades hit with a burst of sparks. We clashed again and again. The mysterious black robed woman was fast. She slid past my strike and tried to cut my ribs. I moved, barely avoiding it and hit her with my elbow. She staggered back across the slick stone.

 

I attacked again. I didn't stop. I couldn't.

 

I feinted left and thrust at her chest. She twisted away. My blade only cut her clothes. She kicked my knee. Pain exploded in my leg, but I stayed up. I swung horizontally and forced her back.

 

The hall was filled with the sound of steel and fire. I roared, pouring all my grief and rage into one last charge. I broke her guard and struck her blade with enough force to send it flying across the floor.

 

I drove the woman down.

 

She hit the ground hard. I stood over her, heaving for air. My sword was trembling as I held it to her throat.

                              

“Who are you?” I snarled. “Who sent you?”

 

Walls were collapsing in the distance. I reached down with a shaking hand and tore off the hood.

 

Everything froze.

 

Blonde hair spilled across the floor. Golden eyes stared back at me. Eyes I knew.

 

The world tilted.

 

I should have realized it sooner, but my rage and grief blinded me and I never even considered the possibility. She was the only one capable of killing Father and Mother inside the castle.

 

“No…” My voice broke. “That’s… impossible.”

 

She was beautiful in the cruelest way. Her skin remained untouched by soot or blood, as if the fire itself feared to mark her. I stared at the features of the person I had spent years with.

 

I looked for any sign of a disguise, a mask or magic but the features were unmistakable. The curve of her jaw and the way her hair fell were etched into my mind from the countless conversations we shared.

 

This was the woman I trusted the most. The woman I had laughed with.

 

The woman I… had given my heart to.

 

I wanted to ask her if this was a mistake, if she was being forced, but the words would not form.

 

I hesitated. It wasn't even for a full second.

 

A sharp coldness pierced my chest.

 

I gasped. My vision went white. I looked down.

 

A dagger was buried deep in my heart.

 

It was black steel with a glowing golden engraving. It was the dagger I had given to her as a gift, though it didn't have those markings when I gave it to her. The metal felt freezing, a supernatural cold that began to numb my very soul.

 

No blood came out. Instead, I felt my strength leave my body. It was happening too fast.

 

My legs buckled. I fell to one knee. My sword clattered onto the stone. The world began to fade.

 

“Why…?” I screamed. It sounded raw. “Why?!”

 

She stood up slowly. She didn't take the dagger out. She left it there, buried in my heart. She looked at her hands, then she turned away.

 

“Answer me!” I roared. Tears blurred my eyes. “I trusted you!”

 

She paused. She looked back at me.

 

Her eyes were empty. They weren't cold or cruel. They were just… hollow.

 

She didn't say a word. She turned around and walked into the smoke and fire.

 

The ceiling groaned. Stone cracked. The flames were devouring my home and my family. I collapsed onto the floor. Darkness started to close in on my vision.

 

The last thing I saw was the throne, burning in the dark.