Page 89 of Synodic

I gathered up my dress and sprinted into the horror, searching for a way to help. This was my home too, and I’d be damned if I stood by and watched it all turn to ash.

I spotted a basket of grains dangerously close to catching aflame. I heaved it up by its handles, and ran.

The villagers’ stash of collected bins was too far away from me, not to mention through a ring of fire. It wasn’t the safest route to repeatedly run back and forth from, especially with loaded arms, so I started a new cache of salvaged goods on my side of the flames.

I charged back into the inferno, scanning for more undamaged necessities that could be pulled from the wreckage.

A devastating crash of wood erupted right beside me as one of the domes collapsed in a plume of smoke, another falling right on its heels. They crumbled like paper to a match, utterly destroyed and completely unsalvageable.

The fire was wild and rampant, and villagers ran past me with bleeding wounds, burnt arms, and stunned expressions.

I raced to help an older villager bleeding profusely from a head wound when I heard a muffled scream coming from inside one of the domes. If someone was caught within the burning pyres of canopied wood, smoke inhalation could kill them faster than the fire.

I ushered the wounded man to the beach, then whirled to a nearby house, throwing open the door as sweltering heat rushed at my face and dried my eyes. “Is anyone in here?” I called out, only for a cloud of smoke to choke down my nose and throat. I didn’t think anyone was in here, but it was hard to tell.

Daring to move on to the next home, I pushed at the wooden entrance, but it was barricaded shut by something heavy on the other side.

I was about to head to the next home when I heard another scream from just beyond the obstructed door. With newfound urgency, I plowed my shoulder into the doorway until it slowly gave way, inch by agonizing inch.

Finally, I managed to slip through the narrow opening. Covering my mouth and nose with the crook of my arm, I desperately searched while weaving between the burning debris and red-hot flames. I spotted a young girl huddled beneath a desk, mouth open in a wail.

Somehow, she’d become separated from the other children on the beach. She must have come back here looking for her family, only to find her house empty and crashing down all around her.

I snatched her from her hiding place and hoisted her up on my hip. Squeezing us both out through the small space, I ran with her to where I had stashed the basket. Setting her down, I gently wiped her silver hair from her smoke- and tear-stained face as she clutched at my dress.

“Everything’s going to be alright now,” I said as calmly as possible, inspecting her for any cuts or burns. Other than being shaken, she appeared fine. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She shook her head and gripped my skirt even tighter.

“I have to see if anyone else needs my help. While I go look, could you watch this for me?” I asked, indicating to the basket, hoping it would keep her distracted and away from the flames.

Hesitantly, she nodded with her big, wide eyes, and her tiny hands loosened from my dress. “You’re very brave. I’ll come back and get you when it’s safe. Don’t go anywhere, alright.”

It wasn’t lost on me that I’d told her to do exactly what Demil had asked of me. I just hoped she was more obedient than I was.

I stood and turned to make my way back into the blaze when I caught sight of Rowen through smoke and fire.

He was covered in ash and soot and sweat, and his soaked-through shirt clung to his taut muscles and broad back. His hair was unruly, the ends drenched and sticking to his face. I knew he was looking for me, but his searching gaze hadn’t landed on me yet. Despite being evidently wracked with grief over the ruin of his village, he looked to be in one piece.

Relief wended through me like a long-awaited summer storm, and I wished this feeling could rain down from the sky and douse the pillaging flames and smothering smoke. But there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky to wish upon.

I made my way towards him, eager to show that I was alright, when a looming figure stepped casually in front of me, blocking Rowen from my view.

I had never seen him before, but I immediately knew he didn’t belong here. This man, with his black breeches, red tunic, and crimson hair, looked like the male embodiment of the flames destroying everything around us. Even the jeweled sword at his back beamed with shimmering rubies.

“There you are,” he sneered, his eyes burning into me from the deep recesses of his shadowed brow.

He stood between me and the entire village, whose people were too preoccupied to notice this man so out of place. So wrong.

Then it hit me like a blistering wall of hot air—these flames weren’t natural. This was arson, and he’d been the one to light the match.

“You did this,” I hissed at him in disgust, wanting to rip the hair out from his head. “Why? What have these people ever done to you?”

“They harbored you,” he said as his hand swept over the macabre show from hell. “So I guess you could say this is all for you.” His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and the timbre of his voice betrayed nothing but dead serious conviction.

The air thickened, closing us off from the village in an arena of smoke and faded firelight.

I stepped back in horror, my eyes flashing to the little girl I had just promised everything would be alright to. A promise broken in a matter of seconds. The man from the seventh ring of Hell followed my glance, and even though he noted her presence, his sole focus thankfully rested on me and me alone.

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