Page 23
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Dante
T he ARC briefing room hummed with an undercurrent of tension as Amara stood at the head of the table. The holographic map projected above the surface flickered with points of light marking key locations across Eryndia. The largest cluster pulsed over the Frosthaven Warehouse District, the confirmed hideout of the Heralds of Zephyr.
Amara’s gaze swept across the team, her tone sharp as she addressed them. “We have the evidence. We have the location. This ends now.”
Dante leaned against the table, his amber eyes fixed on the map as Amara continued. The Inferno Blade rested beside him, its molten glow dim but alive, as if responding to the tension in the room. He shifted his weight, his fingers drumming against the polished surface.
Orion stood nearby, arms crossed as he studied the team. “This is a direct assault,” he said. “It won’t be easy.”
Lucas grinned, his electric-blue eyes sparking. “Easy’s boring. Let’s light them up.”
Kaelen shot Lucas a pointed look. “This isn’t about showing off.”
Ezra leaned back in his chair, his indigo eyes sharp with focus. “If they’re guarding this hideout as heavily as we think, it means we’re close to something big. That makes them desperate—and dangerous.”
The professor nodded. “Exactly. Lockwood won’t go down without a fight, and the closer we get to disrupting their plans, the more unpredictable they’ll become.”
Dante tightened his grip on the table, his gaze flicking to the Blade as a flicker of unease crossed his features. He hadn’t spoken yet, the internal battle simmering beneath his calm exterior. The Inferno Blade’s presence was a constant hum in the back of his mind, a call to power he refused to acknowledge.
Sebastian stood beside him, his silver-gray eyes narrowing as he glanced at Dante. “You’re quiet,” he said.
“I’m listening,” Dante replied as he straightened. His fingers brushed against the sword, its molten glow flaring before dimming again. “We know what we’re walking into. Let’s focus on making sure we walk back out.”
Amara’s gaze lingered on Dante for a moment before she turned back to the map. “Our priority is containing their forces and retrieving any remaining artifacts they’ve acquired. Lockwood cannot activate another node. If he does, the ley line network will destabilize beyond repair.”
Orion nodded, his expression grim. “Stick to the plan. Work as a team. We’ll cover each other’s backs, but don’t hesitate to adapt if things go sideways. They always do.”
Dante exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he met Orion’s gaze. “They’re not walking away from this,” he said.
Amara stepped back, her sharp gaze sweeping over the team one last time. “Gear up. You leave in fifteen.”
Dante reached for the Inferno Blade, its warmth of its hilt settling into his palm. His grip was steady, but his thoughts churned as he followed the others toward the equipment lockers. Sebastian fell into step beside him, his presence a quiet anchor.
“You ready for this?” Sebastian asked, meant only for Dante.
Dante glanced at him, his amber eyes steady despite the storm raging inside. “Always,” he said. Whatever came next, there was no turning back.
***
Dante positioned himself near the edge of the loading dock, his body low and ready as he steadied the Inferno Blade in his hand. The molten glow along its edge pulsed rhythmically, matching the fire simmering under his skin. Ahead, the warehouse stood in defiance of the night, its arcane wards flickering along the walls like restless energy. The team advanced in silence, their steps careful and precise.
Lucas moved to the door, his electric-blue eyes narrowing as his fingers sparked with precision magic. “Wards are basic,” he muttered, disrupting the nearest sigil with a flick of his wrist. Tristan followed close behind, his water magic swirling as he formed a barrier to counter any traps.
“Move in quietly,” Orion said, his tone calm but firm. “Stick to the plan.”
Dante adjusted his grip on the Blade, its molten edge glowing brighter as the team slipped inside. The air in the warehouse pressed against them, thick with latent magic. Rows of crates formed narrow corridors, their shadows stretching like jagged teeth. Kaelen raised a hand, his light magic illuminating the path just enough to keep them moving without revealing their position.
Sebastian stayed close to Dante, his silver-gray eyes scanning the surroundings, his air magic coiling protectively around them.
A sharp burst of energy erupted from the walls, sigils flaring to life as the ambush began. Rogue mages emerged from the shadows, their spells cutting through the air as chaos descended. The ARC team scattered, each member responding with honed instincts. Aiden’s vines lashed out, tangling a group of attackers, while Lucas unleashed a controlled burst of lightning that crackled through their defenses.
Dante surged forward, flames erupting in his hands as he wielded the Blade. His fire collided with a rogue’s barrier, shattering it in a cascade of sparks. The heat around him intensified, his magic feeding off the Blade’s energy as he pushed deeper into the fray.
“Hold your ground!” Orion shouted, his spirit magic surging outward in a protective wave.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. The energy thickened, drawing his gaze to the far end of the warehouse where a figure emerged. Malachi Lockwood stepped forward with an unhurried confidence, his dark coat billowing as though carried by an unseen force. His presence drew every eye in the room.
“Well,” Lockwood said, his tone smooth and mocking as he stepped forward. “It’s about time.”
Sebastian moved closer to Dante, his air magic weaving a subtle shield between them and the approaching threat. “Stay focused,” he said, his tone steady but edged with urgency.
Malachi’s gaze shifted to Sebastian, his disdain clear before he returned his attention to Dante. “So this is the wielder of the Inferno Blade,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “I have to say, it suits you.”
Dante straightened, the Blade flaring brighter in his grip as he locked eyes with Malachi. “This ends here.”
Lockwood chuckled, his gaze sweeping the room before returning to Dante. “Not from where I’m standing,” he said. “But please, do enlighten me. What exactly do you think you’re stopping?”
Dante took a step forward, his flames burning steady despite the turmoil inside him. “You’re hurting people,” he said. “You’re risking lives—disrupting the ley lines. You don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire.”
Lockwood’s expression shifted, a sly grin curving his lips as he tilted his head. “Hurting people?” he echoed, his tone feigning innocence. “What lives have we taken?”
His jaw clenched, the Blade pulsing brighter as his grip tightened. “Maybe not yet,” he said. “But you will. And I’m not letting it happen.”
Lockwood’s grin widened, his arms spreading as he turned to address his followers, who had begun to gather along the edges of the room. “Do you hear that?” he called, his voice rising, commanding the space. “This is what happens when you try to make a change. This is what happens when you stand against the status quo.”
The rogues murmured among themselves, their gazes fixed on Malachi with a mix of fervor and unease. He gestured toward the ARC team. “The government sends their enforcers—mages with shiny badges and big weapons—to crush anyone who dares to challenge their control. They call us dangerous. Rogues. But what are we really?”
His words carried an edge of righteous fury. “We’re the ones who see the cracks in their perfect little world. Who refuse to live on scraps while they feast on power. And when we try to take it back, what do they do? They send their attack dogs to keep us in line.”
His flames flared, his frustration rising as Malachi’s words echoed through the room, stoking the resolve of his followers. “You’re not a savior,” Dante said. “You’re just another tyrant, hiding behind a cause.”
Malachi’s gaze snapped back to him, his grin sharpening. “And you think your government’s any better? Tell me—how much power do they let you keep? How often do they remind you that you’re just a tool in their arsenal, a pawn in their game?”
His flames wavered for a moment, the Blade’s heat twisting through him as Malachi’s words dug at the edges of his doubts. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Oh, but I do,” Malachi said, stepping closer, his oppressive energy around him pressing outward like a wave. “Fire. Rage. That Blade didn’t choose you by accident.”
As he spoke, flames ignited in his hands, curling around his fingers with effortless control. The fire twisted and danced, its edges glowing hotter with each flick of his wrist. “It chose you because it recognizes itself in you. You and I—we’re the same.”
His grip on the sword tightened, his flames flickering uncertainly as he took a step back. “We’re nothing alike.”
Lockwood chuckled, the flames in his hands flaring brighter. “Aren’t we? Fire has always been a part of you, hasn’t it? A relentless, consuming force you can’t escape. You’ve spent your life trying to control it, to hold it back. But why? Why fight something that makes you unstoppable?”
His amber eyes narrowed. “Because fire doesn’t just destroy. It protects. It transforms. And I’ll never use it the way you do.”
Malachi’s laughter filled the space. “Noble words,” he said, his flames snapped in time with his steps as he closed the gap between them. “Fire doesn’t care about protecting or transforming. It’s chaos, pure and simple. It takes what it wants, and it burns everything in its way—purifying what’s left behind.”
He extended a hand, the flames swirling upward like a serpent. “You should embrace it—all that raw power. There’s a freedom of letting it all burn. Let your fire consume the chains holding you back.”
His flames surged in response, the Inferno Blade glowing brighter as its molten energy coiled around him. “I’m not like you,” he said again.
Malachi’s grin widened, his flames growing hotter as they pulsed in sync with Dante’s fire. “That’s what I told myself once,” he said, softer now, coaxing. “But the truth is, fire doesn’t choose the weak. It chooses those who can wield it. Those who can command it. And the Inferno Blade sees that in you.”
Sebastian’s gaze flicked to Dante, concern etched into his features. “Don’t listen to him.”
His flames wavered, the Blade’s energy coiling tighter around him as Lockwood’s words dug deep. A flicker of doubt crossed his expression as the Blade’s heat pulsed, feeding the temptation Lockwood sowed. “You don’t belong with them,” he said, his words laced with something darker. “They don’t understand your potential. But I do.”
The sword flared brighter, its molten glow wrapping around his hand like a second skin. Its energy wasn’t just fire—it was power, pure, and unrelenting, whispering promises of control and submission.
Lockwood’s eyes gleamed with unrestrained delight as he stepped closer. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The way it bends to your will. The way it bends others. The Blade knows what you desire… and it knows how to make others desire you.”
His chest tightened, heat twisting through him in a way that felt too close, too consuming. His amber eyes flicked to Sebastian, catching a momentary flash in his silver-gray gaze—an echo of the night before, when he hadn’t been able to resist.
Sebastian’s jaw tightened as he looked away, his magic stirring protectively in the space between them. “He’s manipulating you,” he said. “That Blade—it’s not you.”
Lockwood’s laugh cut through the air, sharp and taunting. “Is it manipulation,” he asked with a poisonous purr, “when it’s what you already want? The power to command. To take. To make the world bend to you instead of breaking you down.”
The Inferno Blade’s heat surged, its energy licking at his skin as it amplified every unspoken thought, every suppressed desire. His flames crackled at his fingertips, uncontrolled as they reflected the turmoil roiling inside him.
“Think about it,” Lockwood continued. “Power. Freedom. Everything you’ve ever wanted, right in your hands.”
Dante clenched his jaw. The moment stretched long, the Blade’s pull growing stronger as Lockwood’s words tightened around his resolve like chains.
Sebastian stepped closer, his air magic weaving subtly through the oppressive heat as he placed himself at his side. “Don’t listen to him,” he said, his gaze fixed on Malachi. “He’s twisting it. You know who you are.”
Lockwood’s gaze flicked to Sebastian, a glint of disdain in his eyes. “And what does he know about fire?” he asked. “What does he know about what it takes to control something so wild, so destructive?”
Molten energy spiraled up his arm like living fire. It wasn’t just heat—it was a voice, a presence, threading itself into his thoughts, whispering promises of power, visions of cities reduced to ash and rebuilt under his rule. The flames in his chest surged as if it could hear those whispers, too.
Images flickered in his mind, unbidden and raw—flames engulfing everything, his enemies kneeling, a world reshaped under his control. It wasn’t real, but it felt so close, like he could reach out and take it.
“It’s lying to you,” Dante said roughly as he forced the words through clenched teeth. “That’s not freedom. It’s a trap. A constant cycle of always needing to consume, more and more. Never ending until there’s nothing left.”
Lockwood stepped closer, his flames licking at the edges of his hands. “A trap?” he said. “Is that what they’ve told you? That fire needs to be controlled? Tamed?” His gaze bored into his own, unrelenting. “They’re wrong.”
Dante staggered, his flames sputtering as the Blade’s energy suddenly coiled tighter around him. The whispers grew louder, threading through his doubts like a knife. They spoke of his failures, his fears. That he wasn’t enough—not for this, not for anyone.
“You’ve always carried it. That anger. That hunger. You’ve buried it because they told you it was wrong. But the Inferno Blade knows better. I know you better.”
His knees threatened to buckle as the sword’s pull deepened, twisting through him with promises and lies. He clenched his jaw, his flames sparking brighter in defiance. “No,” he muttered. “I know who I am.”
“Do you?” Malachi asked, his flames surging higher as he stepped closer. “Because I see someone fighting a war he doesn’t understand. Someone trying to be what they want him to be, instead of embracing what he is.”
His breath came in sharp bursts as he fought to push its influence aside. His amber eyes flicked to Sebastian, who stood just behind him, his silver-gray gaze steady and unwavering. No mockery, no doubt—just trust.
“You’re not him,” Sebastian said. “You don’t have to listen to him. This is your fire. Your choice.”
Those whispers faltered for a moment, the Inferno Blade’s pull loosening just enough for Dante to breathe. He steadied his grip, his flames burning steadier now as he focused on his words. His fire wasn’t the Blade’s to control.
It was his. Had always been his.
Malachi’s expression twisted, his grin faltering as the flames around Dante surged higher, brighter. “You can’t fight forever,” he said. “That fire will consume you, one way or another.”
His flames flared, his energy snapped back into focus as he stepped forward. “Then let it try,” he said. “Because it’s my fire. Not yours. Not the Blade’s. Mine.”