Reign of Wrath

He watches before his eyes the destruction of all things in front of him. It was hideous and beyond unacceptable. The kingdom was all but consumed with fire and there was no chance of ever surviving that massive onslaught. One moment he was just standing by the mountains' peak, watching everything transpiring when a loud scream broke out and a powerful force had sent him flying, losing all of his control. It was too much that he wasn't able to regain his composure. By the time, he went back to where he was standing before, he has seen the hell that has happened in the kingdom. One would have thought it is impossible for something to be done by one person. One. The screams have not yet died out—still full of pain, still driven with wrath. Even if he has the power to stop this, he did not do anything. He already warned them. They did not listen. Now they have to bear the consequences. And that is death. "So it has begun." He was not surprised by her presence but he glanced at the woman who suddenly appeared on his right side. Dressed in a gossamer clothing and with her white hair lusciously cascading down her back, he was used to the company of the woman. Besides, they are the only ones left of the Ancients and being in each other's presence is something to be appreciated by the other. "The gods are not even reacting from this. They are silent, letting this be," Torra said, looking at the starless sky with the billowing smoke ascending with the air. "There will be no peace from now on." "It is what it is," he said. "We can only watch." "Is that really the truth?" the woman asked, her black fathomless eyes which are the same as his went down to look at his face. "I have a feeling that you will not be put at ease. You cannot just watch." He did not say anything, thinking it best to keep his silence and not add more for the woman's speculations. "I have a feeling this will be the end," the woman suddenly said which had him shook his head. "The prophecy said otherwise." "What I am seeing is more believable than what someone has told." Torra sighed. "From what I am witnessing, she has grown stronger and that is beyond alarming." "Indeed." Down below, she saw the lone woman surrounded by the fire dropping on the ground. She was unmoving but not dead. "You don't have anything else to say?" "It is already expected, Torra. She has been dormant and she intends to do that because she is preparing herself for the perfect time which, unfortunately, is now." Torra stared at him. The look on her face completely gives off that she is in disbelief. "You have been waiting for her, didn't you?" He did not say anything nor react. His eyes stayed on what was going on below. The fire was still wild. The woman in the middle was left untouched by the flames. She was lying on the ground, eyes wide open, watching the smoke. She has eventually stopped crying and slowly, she sat down. The skin on her limbs is etched with swirling inks, marking her entirely. Her hair was the same color as the flames, her eyes pure red as well. When she stood up and walked her way out, the flame parted to make way for her. It has been so long since he has seen someone wield this power. Reaching a raised pavement, she clapped her hands once and just like that, the fire went out, leaving a kingdom of ashes. Everything had all been nothing. Properties, treasures, lives—all gone in just a snap. He stiffened when the woman looked up and their eyes met. Even with the distance, she was still able to see him. It's because she was not the same anymore, she is so much more now. Her familiar face expresses brokenness and seemingly asking for help. But in one blink, she was already smiling wide, looking so proud of what she has done. "What was the host's name?" Torra asked. And without leaving his eyes off of the woman, he answered, “Her name was Eleana.”