CHAPTER 36: I CAST FIREBALL

  Helel fully intended to deliver a death sentence.

  His blade carved through the air in a clean, lethal arc, every muscle committed to the swing.

  But it met nothing.

  The Shade was faster.

  It shot upward like smoke fleeing a candle flame, hissing as Samael’s form lost cohesion.

  The grin fractured, the body unraveling into shadow mid-motion, dispersing before steel could bite.

  Only traces remained.

  A curling wisp clung near the ceiling, air rippling as though reality itself had been disturbed.

  Laughter lingered, thin and mocking, riding the echoes down the corridor long after the Shade had moved.

  Helel’s eyes snapped upward.

  Out of reach.

  “Coward.” He muttered under his breath.

  His grip tightened on the hilt as his mind raced.

  He didn’t chase blindly.

  He paused.

  Just long enough to calculate.

  Angles.

  Distance.

  Momentum.

  The traces told a story.

  The distortion bent toward the ceiling vault, shadows thinning where the Shade had fled.

  He exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching as an idea sparked.

  One to bait.

  Two to trap.

  Helel rolled his shoulders once, muscles coiling on instinct.

  Heat gathered under his skin, familiar and eager.

  Then he cast.

  Three fireballs bloomed into existence simultaneously, igniting from his palms in perfect formation.

  The air buckled with their birth, pressure rolling outward in a heated wave as he snapped into a stance that looked almost casual.

  One foot braced back, body twisted like a pitcher mid-windup.

  He grinned.

  Not a smile of joy.

  A smile of anticipation.

  Then he unleashed hell.

  His hands moved in threes, each motion deliberate and ruthless.

  Fire streaked through the corridor in controlled bursts, detonating against walls, ceiling, empty air where the Shade almost was.

  The rhythm was relentless.

  No pause.

  No mercy.

  His eyes never left the shifting distortion above.

  Every heartbeat drummed like a war signal in his chest.

  Behind him, Suryel was pressed back toward the wall by the sheer force of it.

  Cold air licked one side of her skin while blistering heat washed over the other, firelight painting her face in gold, red and shadow.

  She should have been afraid.

  She was.

  But awe pulled her forward anyway.

  The Shade froze mid-escape as fire closed in from all sides.

  It screamed, sound tearing through the corridor as fragments of shadow scattered and reformed, darting desperately like a trapped creature in some cruel, three-dimensional pinball game.

  Helel didn’t let up.

  He kept at his barrage.

  Fireballs hammered the space relentlessly, forcing the Shade to fight for every scrap of cohesion.

  For a moment, Suryel wasn’t just watching a battle.

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  She was watching him.

  The way he moved through danger like it was music. The way chaos bent to his will, shaped and redirected with the same ease as breath.

  He was smiling as he fought.

  That familiar, feral joy flickered across his face, and something in her chest loosened at the sight. Warmth spread through her, cutting through the lingering chill of fear.

  She wondered, distantly, if she would ever be able to face terror with that kind of freedom.

  Helel sprang forward, launching himself perpendicular off a column, boots striking stone as he used it to propel himself upward.

  His hand reached out, murderous intent sharp in the angle of his fingers as he tried to seize the Shade mid-phase.

  But it remembered.

  The Shade dissolved silently, slipping into the wall itself, becoming one with the shadows in a heartbeat.

  Helel slammed into the stone surface hard enough to rattle the corridor.

  “Damn it.” He hissed, flexing his hand as a cramp shot up his arm, stiffness settling into the muscle from overextension.

  “He’s gone…” Suryel whispered.

  There was fear in her voice, yes, but also something steadier beneath it.

  She stepped closer when Helel turned, the edge easing when he flashed her a sloppy grin, like the last minute that had been nothing more than a sparring match gone sideways.

  “But we’re still here.” She added, glancing around the corridor. “How do we get out?”

  Helel sighed, rolling his shoulder. “Would’ve been easier if it didn’t run.” He tilted his head back, studying the ceiling, then the walls. “We could’ve asked… Nicely.”

  His gaze dropped back to her. “Do you remember how you got in? Or where?”

  She hesitated, brow furrowing. “I don’t know how I got here.” She admitted.

  Then her eyes lit slightly. “But I think I can lead us out, I remember a door. Come this way.”

  Helel nodded, expression softening. “Good. You remember more than you think. Trust your instincts. That’s enough.”

  She led them through winding halls and narrowing corridors, feet moving with more confidence than her face suggested.

  Until they stopped beneath a slanted wall and a trap door set high above.

  She rose onto her toes, stretching, then looked back at him. “I can’t reach it. This is where I fell.”

  “You’re trying to get up there?” Helel asked flatly, staring at the impossible incline.

  She nodded, rolling her shoulders, warming up like she was preparing for a climb. “Help me up.”

  He stared at her, snorted.

  Then laughed.

  “Come on.” He said between snickers. “I still remember this place. I’ll get us there. The no-slip-and-slide way.”

  His laughter broke fully loose, loud and unrestrained.

  She shot him a look, sharp enough to cut stone.

  “I would love to see you try scaling that.” He added, wiping at his eyes. “But there’s no need.” He gestured grandly at the wall. “Unless you really want to. It’d be very… Entertaining.”

  She smacked his hand away and speed-walked forward. He caught up easily, still laughing, steering her in the opposite direction.

  Silence settled as they walked, footsteps echoing softly through the halls.

  Helel stole glances at her.

  She ran her fingers along the wall as they moved, tracing shallow waves into the stone surface without thinking. The sight hit him harder than expected.

  Just like she used to do as a child.

  Back when she wandered these halls without fear, mapping every corner, believing that if she could touch a place and remember it, she could always find her way home.

  The habit lingered now. A memory. A comfort. Maybe a quiet plea for safety.

  His chest tightened.

  Then he noticed her gaze had gone distant. Too distant.

  She started pinching her arm again.

  Helel frowned and grabbed her hand.

  “I’m not dreaming, am I?” Suryel asked, blinking but not quite focusing, feet stopping mid-step.

  He halted too. “Suryel…” He started carefully. “What do you remember? Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

  Her face drained of color.

  “Hey— No.” He backtracked immediately. “Forget I asked. You don’t have to tell me. Just… Don’t… Hurt yourself trying to wake up.”

  He grinned and brushed her hair back, the gesture automatic, older than thought. “First, we get out. Then we hold Azriel over a grill for answers if we have to.”

  She stared at him, surprised, touching the spot he’d patted.

  “Azriel?” She murmured. “I think… I remember him.”

  They turned a corner.

  “Here we are.” Helel said, letting go of her hand as the corridor widened.

  He walked ahead, hooked the rug with his foot. “So this is the trap door you were trying to—”

  “DO NOT DO THAT!”

  Suryel slammed her palm into the wall.

  Her voice detonated.

  The air boomed, stripped of restraint, force rippling outward as the ivory walls shuddered in response. Cracks webbed from the point of impact, echoing down the hall like a shockwave.

  Helel jumped back, rushing to her side.

  Her hand shook violently against the fractured surface.

  She breathed hard, deep and loud, trying to steady herself.

  He reached for her hand, but she yanked it away, hiding it behind her back, eyes refusing to meet his.

  Her gaze was locked on the trap door.

  Realization hit him like icy water.

  “I’m sorry…” He said quietly, hand settling on her shoulder. “You’re not in trouble, sunbird. But I can’t wait anymore.”

  He inhaled, grounding himself, then leaned down until he was in her line of sight.

  “What did you see?” His voice hardened.

  “Tell me. Now. Suryel. Let me help you.”

  His patience snapped, controlled fury edging every word.

  “Or I will explode.”

  Author’s Note:

  Honestly, I was stuck thinking how to write this fight scene.

  But then inspiration came flying at me.

  In the form of my greatest fear and weakness. ??

  A kakeburi/ ipis/ roach>??

  That dreamt to fly— Ai. ai. ai. Like a little butterfly. ??

  I chose violence and aimed with both slippers.

  And while it escaped, I gained an idea! :D