A/N: This is another short story from my novel I am working on. If you are interesting reading more please comment. I am considering posting it.

Fear No more

“One last chance,” he whispered into her ear. “One last chance, before you are left to the mercy of the flames.”

She turned to the two soldiers standing near the pyre. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked to the torches in their hands. Their flames flickered and danced in her green eyes.

“No fear, Lara.”

She narrowed her eyes and spat into the man’s grizzled face.

He gave her a snide smirk and brushed back a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Such a pity.” He spun upon his heel, and with a quick snap of his wrist, he summoned the guards forward.

She pursed her lips into a tight, straight line. Her expression was a grim one, seemingly cold and distant. She would give them no satisfaction of showing fear. No, she would not scream or beg.

“Remember, no fear,” she whispered silently.

Her heart beat like a wild and frenzied drum inside her chest. She pressed her eyes together as she felt the heat near. It grew upward towards her, licking the air around her. It craved her flesh, and soon enough it would feast upon her. She twisted her hands in the tight bonds.

In her ear, she heard his whisper. “Submit,” it sang. “Give in, and you will be free.” The voice, it was so beautiful and his words so sweet. She fought harder against the bonds but to no avail.

She shook her head. “Never,” she cried. “I will never become that again. And if I must burn for it then I shall.” The heat stung her eyes, but she still did not cry.

She coughed as black smoke entered her lungs. The fire leapt at her feet, the flames eating away at her like a ravenous beast. She cried out as the beast’s flickering tongue finally met her flesh. It twisted around her as if it were slowly sampling her.

Her cries became louder. She wept silently, but no tears fell.

“Lara!”

She opened her eyes, looking past the fire into the crowd of people. The smoke distorted and blurred her vision. But even in the strange mixture of darkness and light, she could see him. He stood alone in the chaos. He was dressed in black just like the day she had met him. His hair was darker than the night, and his skin was white like the moon. He looked ever the prince of the darkness. And he was, for he was her Richard; her fallen angel.

He ran to her, pushing through the crowd. She called to him to stop. No, they would take him. They would hurt him.

The crowd rustled and stirred. Her eyes widened as she saw the familiar faces of her friends reveal themselves.

“How is this possible?”

“They love you,” another kinder voice whispered to her. “No more fear, Lara. Do not fear yourself and what you are capable of.”

“But I have caused so much pain.” she cried. “If given the chance would I not do so again?”

“You know the answer, now believe it,” he told her.

She looked to Richard. He was surrounded by the tarnished glimmer of metal and steel. He would be killed; they all would be. She closed her eyes.

“No more fear,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“Please, help me.”

She opened her eyes. They blazed an eerie green in the light of the fire. Like snakes, the rope that bound her became alive. They twisted and turned, and finally fell away to writhe upon the ground.

The flames rose higher and higher, incasing her in their heat. And then it unfurled, like a butterfly awakening from a dream. With fiery red wings at her back, she stepped down from the pyre.

She reached down to her knight, a small smile gracing her full lips.

“No more fear,” she whispered.