← Previous |
Next →
Back to Fanfiction Page
Aisling felt as if she were being torn apart by two opposing forces, each demanding her body, her soul, her entire being.
On one side, a torrent of fury—a red, incandescent rage, a raw anger roaring inside her like an unending blaze. This part of her thrived on destruction, finally freed from the chains that had always restrained it. All the frustration she had bottled up, all the screams she had swallowed, all the fists she had never raised—she let them all erupt now with devastating force. Each beat of her heart urged her forward—to strike, to tear, to burn.
The other part of her, terrified, struggled within the shadows of this storm. A trembling voice, drowned beneath the roar of fire, pleaded, screamed, sobbed. Stop! This isn’t you! This isn’t what you want! But the fire burned hotter than the tears.
Around her, the fortress crumbled into ruin, the corridors she passed through reduced to charnel houses—piles of twisted and broken bodies, scorched flesh left in her wake. She no longer even knew how she had killed them. Only that their screams had fallen silent, that their blood had flowed, and that the path before her was now clear.
Descend.
The Elemental was calling to her. She felt its summons vibrating inside her ribcage, a searing whisper resonating through her being like a funeral song. Go down into the pit. Free it. Burn everything.
Visions exploded before her eyes, showing her the titanic battle raging below. War—massive and untamed—faced the infernal creature with relentless strength. His sword, enormous and merciless, cut through the air, tracing arcs of crimson light. The beast roared, unleashing geysers of lava, waves of fire blinding the battlefield. The Elemental wanted to crush him, to break him, and Aisling felt her own desire merging with its will—a savage yearning to destroy the warrior who defied her.
And yet, another voice, broken and desperate, still fought within her.
War…
She wanted to scream his name, to call for help. She begged for him to save her, then for Uriel, Nimue, Fenja, Idris, Ren. Even Death. She no longer knew if she was calling for rescue… or for her own end.
Her steps carried her to the edge of a stone elevator—a mechanism descending into the volcano’s depths. Without thinking, she pulled the lever. A heavy, ominous creaking echoed through the macabre silence she left behind. The Elemental’s screams vibrated through the air, merging with the furious pounding of her heart.
The elevator sank into the abyss, and with it, Aisling plunged deeper into fever and madness. She collapsed against the wall, breathless, her skin burning as if she were about to ignite from within.
She had to reach it.
No! She had to stop here!
Two voices. Two forces. Two halves of herself locked in war, clashing in a desperate battle.
And then, finally, the crater’s floor. The heat became unbearable, a crushing pressure that made her feel as if her bones would melt. Her bare feet screamed in pain—the rock beneath her burned. Her body was in agony, but her mind continued to unravel between these two opposing forces.
She was going to die here.
Then let the world burn with her!
No, stop! This isn’t you!
It is me… This rage, this hatred, this violence… I’ve always been here. A part of us, rejected, ignored, buried deep within our soul. And now, I am taking back what is mine.
A furious roar tore through the scorching air, a primal scream that seemed to shake the crater itself. Aisling squinted, the suffocating heat making every breath painful. The Fire Elemental loomed before her—an incarnation of pure destruction, its immense feline form coursing with incandescent veins where molten lava pulsed. Its muscles rippled beneath a coat of flames, and each step sent tremors through the ground. Its very breath ignited the air around it, distorting the atmosphere in waves of unbearable heat.
Facing it, War stood firm, his massive figure a stark contrast to the creature’s relentless ferocity. The Horseman did not falter, did not retreat. Each time the beast tried to strike him down with a colossal paw, he evaded with inhuman precision, countering with measured, implacable blows. His blade carved sharp arcs through the smoke and heat, driving the Elemental back with powerful strikes whenever it ventured too close, narrowly avoiding its fangs—teeth capable of crushing him in a single snap.
But Aisling was no longer looking at War.
Her gaze locked onto the massive chain— the Collar of Yurba—still binding the Elemental to the fortress suspended above the crater. The last thing keeping it from unleashing its full wrath.
She had to break it. Once freed, we will be unstoppable.
She took a step forward. Then another.
The pleading voice in her mind screamed with all its might, but she pushed it away.
Move forward. Destroy. Liberate.
A flicker of blue caught her eye in the midst of the crimson inferno. Nimue.
The frail, spectral figure darted through the air, her arms waving frantically as she rushed toward War, barely dodging the Elemental’s roaring flames. She was trying to say something, but Aisling couldn’t hear. There was too much noise. In her head. Everywhere.
Then, another flash—golden this time. Uriel and his legion of angels dove in formation, striking the Elemental before veering away, harassing it without being consumed. A distraction.
Uriel’s powerful voice rang out, cutting through the roars and the clash of battle.
“War! We’ll keep it busy! Do something!”
The Horseman pivoted slightly, as if he finally understood the urgency of the situation. And that was when he saw her.
Aisling was moving forward slowly, naked, covered in blood and ashes, her burning gaze locked onto the Elemental’s chain. War pushed Nimue back with a firm gesture, making her step away, before striding toward Aisling—a massive shadow in the midst of the inferno, his sword still in hand. Immense. Terrifying.
But she was no longer afraid.
She stared at him unflinchingly. She was stronger than him now, wasn’t she? He, the destroyer of Humanity, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? She would burn the entire universe in retribution for everything they had done.
THEY DID NOTHING! LISTEN TO ME!
They stopped just a few meters apart, their gazes clashing like crossed blades. Oh, he was ready to fight—probably ready to kill her. Because she didn’t matter. Because War served only his mission.
Always.
NO!
He spoke, his deep and steady voice addressing her like a wild animal.
“Aisling… listen to me…”
“Why should I?” she let out a joyless laugh, a rough, acid sound. “To hear more reproaches? Too weak? Too clumsy? Not enough?”
Her own voice felt foreign to her—burning, like molten metal. Part of her shivered at it; another part reveled in it, savoring the sting of every word. To wound him as much as he had wounded her. She took another step closer, taunting.
“Will you strike me again? Burn me again?”
War didn’t flinch. Impassive. Unshaken.
“You are not yourself, little one.”
A shiver of exhilaration ran through her. Oh, how arrogant he sounded in his calm! How he gave her every reason to hate him!
“Or perhaps this time, I’ll be the one to burn you?”
He raised a hand, as if to stop her.
“The Elemental is using you! It couldn’t do it with an angel or a demon, but a human soul is—”
“Weak?”
Her smile vanished instantly. A fresh wave of fury clenched her jaw, an uncontrollable, primal urge to bite.
“What a predictable choice of words.”
Behind them, the Elemental and the angels clashed in a titanic battle. If she ran now, she could reach the chain before they stopped her. Maybe… But she knew what that would mean. She would have to kill him.
War shifted slightly in her field of vision, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“I won’t let you do this. I will save you from yourself.”
She let out a low, mocking laugh.
“Save me? It’s far too late for that.”
She moved forward slowly, feline, feeling the Elemental’s rage and power swell within her, boiling in her veins.
“I’m going to break that chain. And when I do, I will burn every world in this universe to the ground! You want to stop me, War? Fine…”
Her vision turned red. Again, she saw nothing but magma, flames, raw energy. She lunged.
Her hands clawed for his throat, his face. Her entire body became an extension of the Elemental’s fury, a puppet in the grip of a burning puppeteer. War dodged, deflected with the flat of his blade, only pushing her back rather than striking her down.
“There’s no honor in fighting an enemy who poses no true threat.”
Those words. Those cursed words.
“Am I not worthy of you, Horseman?!” she screamed, striking again. “You burned my world, annihilated my race, but finishing the job is beneath you?! THEN FIGHT ME!”
She no longer knew if it was her speaking or the Elemental roaring through her. But amidst the inferno of her madness, something else flickered—a strange, eerie sense of déjà vu. She felt War’s movements before he made them, as if she already knew the battle, as if she were living it before it even happened.
And then, the opening.
She struck him in the face, sending him to his knees. The Elemental’s influence burned him, searing his skin, opening a bleeding wound on his cheekbone.
She should have felt triumph. But she didn’t.
A scream tore from her throat as a searing agony erupted in her arm. Her fingers clenched instinctively, a sharp, unbearable pain cutting straight to the bone.
Her fury snapped back to War, brutal, insatiable.
Why was he still just kneeling?
One knee on the ground, his head slightly tilted toward her, his massive hand resting against the hilt of his sword, buried deep in the earth. He should have risen, fought back, struck her, met her fury with the same violence she unleashed upon him.
But he didn’t move.
And when he spoke, his voice was terribly calm, deep and steady, vibrating with unshakable gravity.
“I will not fight you.”
“You will!!!” Aisling’s blood boiled.
She rushed toward him, rage pounding in her temples, her fingers clenched, ready to dig into every inch of his skin. She wanted to tear him apart, to break him, to force him to react.
“Someone has to pay! For the Apocalypse! For Humanity! For Earth! For everything!”
War didn’t flinch.
“You are angry, Aisling…” He held her gaze, his dark eyes unreadable. “And your anger is justified. But it cannot be the answer to your pain.”
“Why not?!”
She was screaming now, her scorching breath striking his face, mere inches away from his own. She wanted him to become a monster again, to strike her, to judge her, to crush her under his contempt. To be unfair and cruel—just as he had always been.
Because that’s what he had been, wasn’t it?
Because if War became the executioner again, then she would have an excuse. A reason to keep going. To free the Elemental. Right?
But he didn’t hit her. He didn’t lash out.
He simply lifted his head, locking eyes with her with an intensity that surrounded her, held her there.
Then his voice came again—deep, measured, but darker this time, tinged with an ancient sorrow.
“Because that’s what I did… I embraced my anger. I fed it, I let it consume me. I thought I could turn it against my enemies, use it to restore my honor, to set things right, to punish the wicked… And I was blind. Deceived. I made mistakes. I even died for them. And when I saw you standing there, drowning in all the reasons you had to be angry… I didn’t want you to follow my path.”
He pressed a hand against his sword, still deeply embedded in the earth, and rose slowly.
Every movement seemed deliberate, every gesture heavy with an invisible burden. He stepped forward, and she immediately stepped back.
A sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over her.
Was the Elemental abandoning her?
Was it too preoccupied with the Hellguard?
Her legs trembled. The stench of blood, sulfur, and burning metal clouded her senses. She stumbled, retreating clumsily, clutching her wounded hand against her chest.
Maybe she should stop, yes… and sleep.
No more fire.
Just… sleep.
“You asked me what happened to my arm,” War’s voice found her. “I didn’t answer out of shame. I was supposed to set an unshakable example. And I failed you because of it… I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Aisling staggered back, her unsteady steps tracing a disorderly path in the dust and ash. She didn’t want to hear him. Yet he kept moving forward—slowly, inexorably. Like a titan who would not stop until the truth had been spoken.
“Once, I let my anger guide me, take control of my blade. I took many lives that day. I would have taken those of my own brothers and sister. I nearly killed Fury. So Death cut off my arm. So I wouldn’t forget. So I would remember what happens when rage takes over. When it consumes us.
Aisling kept retreating, unsteady, her legs weak, threatening to betray her at every step. She didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to hear that he understood.
Then why did she feel something wet at the edge of her eyes?
Tears.
War was only a few steps away now. He didn’t stop.
“I told you—I am no leader of men. I have only ever known war, destruction, fury, revolt, the thirst for blood and rage… I thought I had to make you stronger, make you more… like me. Like Uriel.”
A faint, bitter chuckle brushed his lips.
“I know anger… But I have never known fear. Or so I thought… until I found myself responsible for you. And then I realized I could fear. After I hurt you, I understood that I had never learned how to take care of things that are…”
She hated the way her heart reacted to those words.
Her legs gave out. A pained whimper tore from her throat as she collapsed, her broken body folding in on itself.
It was over.
No more fire… just a field of burning ruins.
She felt empty. So empty.
“Weak?” she asked, her voice utterly broken.
She wanted the anger to return, to wash away this rising frailty. But there was nothing left.
And yet, War knelt beside her, his shadow engulfing her entirely—a massive figure between her and the burning inferno of the crater.
She felt… protected.
Slowly, infinitely gently, he reached out, tilting her trembling chin upward.
Their eyes met.
“No,” he said. “Fragile. But fragile is good. I can see now that humanity’s fragility has always been its strength. The rest of the universe is made of certainties, of dogmas so rigid they’ve become armor. But humans… humans are made of inner conflict. And that is what allows you to adapt, to understand opposing truths, to move, change, seek, discover. It forces you to become something… more. And most important things are fragile—life, justice, truth, hope.”
Aisling clung to his gaze for a long time, as if her life depended on it.
Maybe it did. He understood. She knew he understood. And suddenly, she felt a little less empty.
Then pain wracked her body. Across the crater, the Elemental screamed again—its roar exploding through her mind.
“No! You are mine! Our fury is just!”
Aisling whimpered in pain, collapsing into a choked sob. She just wanted it to stop. Her rage had grown beyond what her body and mind could bear, crushed beneath something that had always been far too vast for her.
War tightened his grip on her shoulders, a steady anchor as the world around them trembled under the weight of unleashed fury. He leaned toward her slightly, his gaze burning with an implacable intensity, yet his voice remained calm, steady—like a guiding star for a ship lost at sea.
“Don’t fight it…”
“What?” Aisling lifted her lost, dazed eyes to him.
Confusion and exhaustion laced her voice with an involuntary tremor.
“It’s bound to you.” War continued, his deep voice resonating within her. “Your rage tied you together. You can feel it—but so can it.”
A cold shiver ran down her spine. Yes, she could feel it. That burning, visceral force, entwined with her like a second skin, like a second heart beating in echo of her own.
“It won’t listen to me…”
Her voice cracked on the last syllable, strangled by the sheer effort of staying conscious. The only reason she hadn’t collapsed completely was War’s firm grip, holding her in place, a barrier between her and the abyss.
Across the crater, a thunderous growl shook the air. The Elemental had turned away from the angels. Its massive, feline head swung toward them, molten magma eyes locking onto War.
It could feel his influence on Aisling, and it was driving it mad.
A roar of pure fury erupted from the creature’s core as it lunged toward them—an avalanche of fire and molten stone, surging forward with terrifying speed. The next second, the ground trembled violently beneath them.
The very air seemed to vibrate, torn apart by heat rising to unbearable levels. Oxygen became a burning poison, making each breath agonizing. Aisling felt pure terror creep into her chest. She wanted to run. But War didn’t move. Not an inch.
He was still looking at her, his expression grave, unwavering.
“Rage is always the strongest…” he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. “But it blinds. Look beyond it. Make it see.”
“I can’t…”
The creature’s roar became deafening. The air fractured under the heat. The fire was coming.
“You can.”
She was suffocating, breath short, heart hammering in panic.
“I can’t!!!”
The beast was nearly upon them now—a sea of living flame, ready to consume them whole. But War still did not move. He did not look away. He did not let go.
“I believe in you.”
Aisling’s body froze under the impact of those words. And then she remembered something he had said earlier in their journey.
“Our words must never be spoken lightly. An oath, a threat, a promise… the way we break silence defines us as much as how we act upon them.”
He was there for her. He had always been there for her.
The heat became secondary. The Elemental faded into the background. She closed her eyes, finally listening. Not just to the rage. The other voice—the one that had screamed, the one that had pleaded.
What lay behind the anger? She dove into herself, searching. And she found it.
Frustration. Sadness. Shame. Guilt. Helplessness. Fear. Truth.
She took in a shaky breath. Then, she reached out—not with her hands, but with her mind, seeking the invisible bond that tethered her to the Elemental. And this time, she opened herself to it.
She let it see everything. All her emotions. All her doubts. All her pain. All her humanity.
Slowly, Aisling raised her arm, her trembling hand lifting into the scorching air. War’s hands remained firmly on her shoulders—a silent support, an unshakable presence. She kept her eyes closed, letting tears carve pale streaks through the soot, blood, and ash clinging to her face.
She felt the Elemental. Not just its suffocating heat rippling through the air like a mirage, but its presence—so close, pulsing within her mind, thrumming beneath her skin. A searing, wild, furious entity… and yet, in that precise moment, something shifted.
The ground stopped shaking. The roar of fire melted into an overwhelming silence. Aisling slowly opened her eyes.
The Elemental had halted just before them, frozen in an impossible stillness. Its massive chest rose and fell in heavy, molten breaths, sending waves of scorching air against her outstretched hand. Its eyes—two lakes of liquid embers—bore into her, unreadable, intense, filled with a fire that had nothing to do with rage.
The immense creature lowered itself, its body sinking as if crushed beneath an invisible weight. Then, in a movement almost too human, too vulnerable, it bowed its head toward her.
The Collar. The thick, cruel chain was embedded deep into its molten throat, its blackened metal links corroded by fire yet still intact. A relic of suffering.
Without thinking, Aisling reached for it. War moved instantly. He slid his massive gauntlet beneath her, lifting her with effortless ease, carrying her to the chain.
She drew in a steadying breath. Her palm brushed against the scalding metal, searching for the point where it could be released. She hesitated, heart pounding, and turned her head toward War.
He said nothing, only looked at her, his gaze steady, filled with trust. Then, with the slightest nod, he gave her the answer she needed.
She pulled.
A sharp snap rang through the air, and the immense chain unraveled from the Elemental’s throat, crashing to the ground with a heavy, metallic clang.
Aisling met the creature’s gaze one last time. Then, slowly, the Elemental closed its eyes and exhaled—a vast, shuddering sigh of release.
The flames withdrew, solidifying like cooling magma, hardening into a deep black stone streaked with glowing red veins. A basalt armor—ancient, heavy, still carrying the echo of fire… but at peace.
Around them, the entire crater seemed to hold its breath. The lava pools lost their fury, their burning waves settling like a sea after the storm. The flames that had once raged burned lower, fading, leaving behind only dying embers that drifted through the air like fireflies. The world no longer burned.
Perched in War’s arms, her own arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, Aisling watched in silence as the ashes fell around them like a quiet rain.
To free the fire… It had never been about unleashing it. It had always been about calming it.
War gently lowered her to the ground. He took a step back, then tore his own cloak from his shoulders and draped it over hers, covering her battered, trembling frame.
For the first time, true pride shone in his eyes as he looked at her.
“Look… how strong you are.”