HIDING- Part 4

CHAPTER 4: HIDING- PART 4

Fire.

Red fire.

Hot fire.

Burning fire.

The fire was burning.

The fire was burning!

Qiaren shot awake, his vision blurred from either the tears or the smoke or the heat or all of the above. The ground was wet beneath him, and kept making his arms and legs slip when he tried to get up. So, he crawled. With watery vision into the red and grey painting before him, he crawled. His hearing hadn't yet returned, only gentle bells rung against his head as he crawled ever-forward. He was still hot, still sweating underneath the feathery tunic. He needed to take it off to try and cool down. That would make the fire easier to deal with.

The boy vomited.

The hood and tunic combo that his sister made still needed to be removed. That would make the fire easier to deal with. He just had to take these heavy clothes off, so he tried again to raise his arm.

The blonde boy's eyes closed.

Fire.

Red fire.

Hot fire.

Burning fire.

The fire was burning.

The fire was burning!

Qiaren shot awake, his vision blurred from either the tears or the smoke or the heat or all of the above. The ground was wet beneath him, and kept making his arms and legs slip when he tried to get up. So, he crawled. With watery vision into the red and grey painting before him, he crawled. His hearing hadn't yet returned, only gentle bells rung against his head as he crawled ever-forward. He was still hot, still sweating underneath the feathery tunic. He needed to take it off to try and cool down. That would make the fire easier to deal with.

The boy's body tried to vomit, but only ash was able to leave the boy's throat.

The hood and tunic combo that his sister made still needed to be removed. That would make the fire easier to deal with. He just had to take these heavy clothes off, so he tried again to raise his arm.

The blonde boy's eyes couldn't close. His raised arm wouldn't go down. His legs wouldn't keep pushing.

At least his other arm was still holding onto the shortsword he had.

Protecting Hailee was important. That's why he was working off the debt he owed his uncle. His uncle was a master blacksmith and taught Qiaren everything he knew about smithing, and about everything really.

He really loved his uncle.

He really loved Hails too.

Did he ever say that?

He should tell her the next time he sees her.

...

Screams roused Hailee from her slumber. She didn't know what the commotion was about, she just nestled into her spot on the cool ground. The air above her was too hot but the ground was soft.

The girl bolted awake and joined the chorus of screams.

Everything was either red or more red around her. Blood, fire, more blood, it all was the same in her eyes. When she stopped screaming and started gasping for air, she saw there was a lot of grey too. The snow and ash turned patches of the ground grey. The sky above was grey with clouds. The sky below was grey with smoke. After her breaths evened out and tears dried out, she realized the worldly palette of red and grey even stained her clothes with copious amounts of the same two paints.

The redhead, after many pauses to focus on breathing, was able to bring herself to a slightly sitting position, though she was missing half an arm.

She was missing half an arm.

The girl joined the chorus around her once again, though only briefly.

When her voice could only choke out a few whimpers between her body's search for clean air, she furrowed her brows and took stock of her situation. Her arm that was missing half its mass was burnt to a crisp at the edges, and any movement brought an instant hiss to her lips.

So Hailee hissed more than she'd ever had before when she moved that arm to remove her jacket for a makeshift sling.

It wasn't much, nor was it pretty, but, after she finished tying the sleeves around her, it held the arm in place and completed step one of her plan.

She now had decide on step two, yet a scream broke through the chorus she had lulled away into the background. A scream that she remembered from when her dad accidentally nicked his finger when cutting up vegetables for dinner, or from when he stubbed his toe against the new counter he put in, or from when he fell down the stairs at the guild hall.

She remembered that scream, so she ran. Stumbled steps turned to long strides as she ran. Her house was so far away.

No matter how much pain she pushed down, no matter how many dying people she passed, no matter how many flaming houses she avoided, she couldn't reach her father.

The person who taught her how to speak.

The person who stayed up late reading her stories about the world.

The one who sung to her when she was sick

The one who held her when her mother was buried.

The one person she could always rely on.

The one person she couldn't say goodbye to.

Her father was already gone.

She watched as someone in a red cloak removed a curved blade from his head.

She watched as his body turned to ash before any fire could touch it.

She watched the cloak face her, a white mirror swimming in red, before it vanished.

She watched as her home burned down around the shadow of her father.

She heard a call in her head.

She will kill the red cloak.

She will hold her father again.