The pines and shrubs were burning, and part of Antigon with them. The mighty, ancient trees were little more than scorched husks, ash thick as fire rains down. Ariana drifts on the wind, a statement of how they had once trailed in her path like fireflies while she’d run through the blazing fire. So much flame, the heat smothering, the air itself choking her lungs. A peaceful land has been dragged to war. The crack of dying trees groaned the words, cries them. Their world is bathed in fire. Fire, darkness and ruin. Motion between the trees gets her attention. Who could have done this? She had only set out for her morning hunt like every other day for her and decided to grab firewoods that would help light the place at night, only to return to this.
Lucas is furious, mindless with agony, as
