Into Ashes ((Closed))

Ash. Grey swirls of it met her black boots, coating them with the remnants of trees, fields, and other, more unspeakable things. It was everywhere, raining down from still burning trees and from the roof of the barn. Fel didn't burn itself out like ordinary fire did. The charred ruins of M's farm would burn for days.

M walked like she was in a dream, passing along the path like a lost little spirit. It couldn't be real. None of this could be. The fields were scorched and trampled, the trees bent and burned. A few skeletons, dwarven skeletons, lay scattered near the farmhand houses. She didn't dare look inside their battered down doors. Instead, she passed up the path, through the small orchard of brittle trees and ashen grass. What met her gaze was exactly what she'd expected but had hoped against all hope she wouldn't see.

In the middle of her yard, or what had been her yard, was the remains of a fel crystal. Bodies, demonic and dwarven, lay around it. Unwillingly, her eyes followed the cobblestone path to her front porch and her heart sank. That's all there was. The roof had been torn off, or blown off, and the remains of it could be found in the ruins of her shed. Felfire flames danced from within the ruins of her house, most likely feeding off the hundred or so books she'd had. That's when the fear hit like a tidal wave.

Thira.

M didn't even notice the small orange cat that leaped through the rubble of her shed to greet her, she was sprinting for the winding stair path that led high into the cliffs and to safety. That's where the farmhands would've evacuated to, and followed it up to the Ironbeak's farm above them. Up above, at the first ledge of the stair, she could see sparks of green, yet she sprinted on until she was at the first step. Her foot caught on a log and she rolled, rising to sprint a little further. And then she looked back. And then she stumbled.

Thira!

With a wordless scream, she was fleeing. Ash coated her legs as she sprinted past the ruins of the barn and through the flattened fields. Nearly doubled over, M gripped the lowest branch of a tree, opened her COMM channel, and gasped out the only words she could think of.

“Thira's dead.”