Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

43

The chain was raised just in time.

The ships sailed in - hard - colliding and crunching with the metal, masts snapping. The first half of the fleet went down before the chain broke and tumbled into the water along with those masts and fractured wood.

Five rows of Adarlanian ships barged past the wrecks and approached swiftly like a swarming storm. It was not a pleasant sight, and despite himself, Chaol gulped many times from where he stood with the archers upon higher ground.

Dorian was standing on the beach itself, and Chaol had done everything he could to avoid running to him. The urge was very powerful, and it actually drowned out the apprehension for a long while.

'They're not going to try and talk,' Chaol said to the archers around him, raising his voice to be heard from further away, 'so don't try to be nice. Don't hesitate. It's either they end your life, or we end theirs. I know which I'd prefer.'

'Lovely pep talk, captain,' Nesryn called up dryly from beside Dorian.

'Anytime,' he called back, heart hammering.

~

They fired the little catapults they had, followed by beer bottles filled with oil. Then they lit a rag and threw it after the bottles at the ships.

The bottles exploded upon the ships, peppering shards of glass and spatters of oil everywhere, and the flames licked upon them, spreading faster than wildfire, gobbling up the fuel. Shrieks were heard as soldiers were burned alive.

And then from above, Chaol called the archers to release. Arrows rained down and blood sprayed and flesh crumpled. Most shafts missed, or were blocked.

But by the time the remaining ships had reached the shore, they were an equal force.

Rolfe's men leapt forward to meet the soldiers that charged up the beach before Dorian or Nesryn could call out. They went in a scraggled, unorderly form - and most were promptly slaughtered.

'Hold,' Chaol roared at those who had stayed. 'Hold the goddamn lines!'

He finally gave the signal, and the lines rose to meet one another. Dorian drew his sword, and though he knew how to wield it, there was still hesitation. He'd never been trained to fight in battle nor kill, only to spar. And worst of all, these were his soldiers. They'd been trained to fight for him, and now he was against them.

'Look at them,' Nesryn said. 'They're not in their right minds. They don't know what they're doing. They're not on our side, Dorian. You're not on their side. You never were.'

Watching the men fight, a grim realisation dawned upon him. He nodded mutely and nodded, drawing his sword.

But when he came across his first opponent, he was unable to draw his sword. He watched, numb and in despair, as they swung their sword backwards, eyes blank and distant as they stared at Dorian.

Nesryn lunged and sliced her sword across the man's neck, and he fell to his knees. 'Either fight, or get away from here,' she ordered. 'Don't be a hindrance.'

Her words burned him, and he recoiled, shame filling him.

'Go,' Nesryn snarled, but he was already turning away and running.

He knew he was a fool and a coward, but he ran up the beach, pelting for one of the ruined towers.

In truth, he had no idea what he was doing. He was a hindrance. If only he could be braver.

Dorian stared across the bay to where the soldiers fought with Rolfe's men, the sound of metal on metal clanging through the afternoon air. Dorian hated this, hated his father for doing this. At this particular moment, he wanted nothing more than those Adarlanian soldiers to die. But he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. He looked at the ships and a trembling rage filled him. He wished that they would break and crumble and shatter-

A nearby boat gave a groan, and teetered within the shallow waters.

There was a heartbeat of silence as everyone stopped and stared.

And then a full wall of ice smashed into the ships, forcing them into one another, and the entire bay trembled as the ships were crushed on top of each other.

And then soldiers began to slump all around Rolfe's men, clutching at their necks, ice splinters smashing through their throats.

Dorian had no idea what he was doing. But as he stared at the soldiers, they crumpled. He didn't know how, but he knew it was him; he was doing this.

And within a few frighteningly long heartbeats, the beach was silent.

Someone cheered.

Dorian backed away into a wall, slumping down, heart racing and panting.

What had he done?

~

The ice came from one of those towers. It hit none of Rolfe's men. But all around them, soldiers were dying, emmiting strangled groans and gurgles.

Chaol turned away from the ledge and sprinted for that tower.

The ground trembled, then stopped.

He stumbled as he pelted for the tower, footsteps thundering up the stone stairs.

'Dorian!' he gasped out.

Dorian was slumped against the wall, trembling and trying to draw in breaths. Chaol rushed towards him, gripping his hands. 'Are you okay?' he demanded.

'I... killed them,' the prince croaked.

'We had no choice,' Chaol said.

'No, Chaol,' Dorian moaned. 'I have magic.' Chaol paused, heartbeats thrumming through his ears. 'Magic is supposed to be locked. Why do I have magic? How do I have magic? How do I have so much of it?'

'Well. Shit,' Chaol said. 'I don't know.'

'Let's find Nesryn,' Dorian said, trying to stand. He staggered, and Chaol rushed under his arm to support him. 'Gods, easy. You look drained.'

'I feel drained,' Dorian muttered.

Chaol swept him off his feet, and through his own muscles barked in protest, he carried Dorian all the way back to the beach.

He set Dorian down gently, and the prince sighed, lying back upon the blood-spattered shingle. 'Nesryn!' he called. Chaol scanned the area for the dark-haired woman, trying to ignore the fact that there were so many dead bodies about. Non-injured helped the injured, and among them were Nox, Dixon and Ress hurrying about with bandages and water.

He found Nesryn talking to a young boy on the outskirts of the beach. She nodded briskly and started to head for them.

'The clock tower was blown up,' she murmured. 'That's how magic is free. Dixon is a shapeshifter.'

Chaol gaped.

'The Princess of Eyllwe was caught in the explosion.' Nesryn's eyes dimmed. Her gaze snapped suddenly to Dorian. 'You have magic, too, and a hell load of it. Hopefully you'll be taught or learn how to master it. That level of power will come useful later.'

'Faliq!' The Pirate Lord strolled over to them, giving an appreciative glance at Dorian. He ignored Chaol and spoke to Nesryn. 'I've decided that I'll join you under one condition: that none of you ever come to bother me again after.'

The woman let out a broken laugh. 'Good. Agreed.' She gestured at the beach. 'Then help treat your men and we'll set off in a few days.'

[2102XX]

yo i actually woke up thinking it was friday and thinking i was fucking late for school bc it was eight forty

heads up: it's saturday