"What happened?" she asked. "Where am I?" she wondered as impenetrable darkness enveloped everything around her. As Ari stretched her arm, she could see it - barely visible, swallowed by shadow.
"GET UP!"
A voice pierced through the void, its source unknown as it echoed through Ari's mind like thunder in an empty cavern.
"GET UP!"
Once again, the unknown masculine voice spoke, bringing with it a sensation of creeping cold that seeped into her bones.
"GET..."
At the third command, the voice pierced directly through Ari's consciousness, wrenching her from the abyss of unconsciousness. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, reluctantly. Her arm was stretched before her face, covered in thick dust and streaked with blood - some of it dried, some still wet and glistening.
Debris surrounded her on all sides - shattered stone, splintered wood, twisted metal. A sudden gust of acrid smoke blasted directly into her face, forcing her delicate eyes to squeeze shut against the stinging irritation. The smell was overwhelming: burning wood, scorched flesh, and something chemical that made her stomach turn.
What... What is that smell? Why does it smell like... like Mother's cooking when she burned that roast... but worse... so much worse...
Her legs felt completely numb, as though they belonged to someone else entirely. Her ears felt wrong - muffled, distorted, filled with cotton. The sounds around her were distant and warped: stone grinding against stone in agonizing protest, wood cracking with sharp reports like breaking bones, and beneath it all, the terrible chorus of people screaming.
Screaming. Why are they screaming? Why won't they stop screaming?
Ari attempted to rise, but her arms trembled with weakness, barely able to support her weight. Her legs refused to cooperate, still numb and unresponsive. With monumental effort, she managed to drag herself into a sitting position atop a pile of debris - what might have once been an elegant desk, now reduced to splinters and kindling.
Move. Have to move. But where? Where do I go?
Smoke accumulated overhead, a churning gray mass that grew thicker with each passing minute, pressing down like a suffocating blanket. Fire spread in every direction she could see, a living thing that consumed everything in its path with insatiable hunger. There was not a single space untouched by flame - walls blazed, carpets smoldered, even the stone itself seemed to weep with heat.
Everything's burning. Everything. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. Me. Am I burning?
With a trembling, dirt-caked hand, Ari wiped her face. When she pulled her hand away, it was marked with fresh blood - bright red against the gray dust. With unnatural calmness born of shock, Ari noticed that her forehead was bleeding, a thin stream of blood slowly pouring down her cheek and dripping from her jaw.
That's my blood. That's... that's MY blood. Why is there so much?
She couldn't finish the thought.
Without giving it a second thought, a green rune emerged around her right wrist, glowing with faint ethereal light. It took only a second - the wound on her forehead sealed itself, skin knitting back together, and the bleeding stopped.
Good. That's good. I can still do magic. I'm still alive if I can do magic. Dead people can't do magic. I'm not dead. Not yet.
As the rune disappeared from her hand, a violent coughing fit seized her. Ari doubled over, almost collapsing entirely as she coughed harder and harder, each spasm racking her entire body. She couldn't catch her breath, couldn't draw in anything but smoke and heat. She teetered on the very edge of consciousness, black spots dancing in her vision.
Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe why can't I breathe there's no air just smoke just heat just - . . . - I need to get the hell out of here
Forcing herself upright with the help of a wooden fragment - perhaps a piece of what had once been an ornate wardrobe - Ari began to move. Her legs were improving slowly, responding to her commands with increasing reliability, but each step was unsteady and uncertain. She couldn't speak, couldn't scream for help. Her voice was gone, stolen by smoke and shock.
Walk. Just walk. One foot. Then the other. Like Astra taught me when I was little. One foot, then the other. Don't think. Just walk.
She moved slowly but steadily through the devastation, checking room after room. Each one was either completely consumed by fire or had collapsed entirely, ceilings caved in, walls buckled inward.
In one doorway, she found a servant - a young woman whose name she'd never learned - lying face-down in a spreading pool of blood. Half of her body was buried beneath fallen masonry. One arm stretched toward the hallway, fingers still curled as though reaching for escape that never came.
Ari stopped. Stared.
She's dead. That's a dead person. A dead person right there. I've never seen a dead person before. Not like this. Not with their eyes... why are her eyes still open? Why doesn't someone close her eyes?
The woman's mouth was open slightly, as if her final word had been frozen on her lips.
Was she calling for help? Was she calling for me? Did she see me? Can she still see me?
Ari stepped carefully around her, unable to look away from the woman's open, unseeing eyes. Those eyes seemed to follow her, accusing, asking why Ari was walking when she could not.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Moving further down the corridor, she discovered the hallway was choked with bodies and obstacles. A guard lay slumped against the wall, his armor melted partially into his flesh, his face a mask of agony frozen in his final moment. The smell of burnt meat made Ari gag, turning her head away even as she forced herself to keep moving.
That's a person. That was a person. He had a name. Did he have a family? Did someone love him? Will someone cry for him?
Her stomach heaved. She bent over, dry-heaving, nothing coming up but bile and ash.
Don't think about it. Don't look at him. Just walk. Just keep walking.
Two more bodies - servants by their clothing - lay tangled together near a collapsed section of ceiling. They must have been running together when the stone fell. One was completely still, crushed beneath the weight. The other was still breathing - shallow, rattling gasps that bubbled wetly.
"Help..." the survivor wheezed, one hand reaching weakly toward Ari. Blood frothed at her lips with each breath. "Please... help me..."
Ari froze completely, every muscle in her body locking. The hand reached toward her - trembling, desperate, the fingers opening and closing like a dying bird's wing.
Help her. I should help her. I have healing magic. I just used it. I can help her.
But Ari couldn't move. Couldn't step forward. Couldn't kneel down.
The stone. The stone is too heavy. Her legs are crushed. I can see the bone. I can see inside her leg. There's too much blood. There's so much blood and it's still coming and I can't - I can't -
"Please..." The woman's voice was weaker now, fading. "Don't... leave me..."
"I can't," Ari whispered, the words catching in her smoke-damaged throat like broken glass. "I'm sorry. I can't."
I'm leaving her. I'm leaving her to die. Alone. In the dark. In the fire. I'm walking away and she's dying and I'm just WALKING AWAY -
The woman's hand dropped, her eyes closing. Whether in acceptance or unconsciousness or death, Ari couldn't tell. Didn't want to know.
She kept moving, each step taking her further from the dying woman's rattling breaths. Each step felt like betrayal. Like murder.
I killed her. I killed her by not helping. That's the same thing. That's the same as killing her. I'm a murderer.
No. No, that's not true. I couldn't help her. The stone was too heavy. I couldn't -
Coward. You didn't even try. You just looked at her and walked away. Coward. Murderer. Worthless.
Tears streamed down her face, cutting clean paths through the soot and ash coating her cheeks.
Finally, Ari found herself at the end of the hallway, facing the grand staircase. What had once been an architectural marvel - well-decorated stairs with elegant wooden railings and rich carpets underfoot - was now a nightmare of destruction. The lower section had completely collapsed, and vicious flames burst upward from the floor below, a pillar of fire that roared like a living beast.
Down is death. Down is fire. Fire is death. Can't go down. Have to go up. Up up up away from the fire away from the bodies away from the screaming -
Going downstairs was impossible. The only way was up. The fire hadn't yet reached the higher floors completely, and the stairs leading upward appeared marginally passable, though treacherous.
But up means trapped. Up means no way out. The roof. Can I reach the roof? Can someone see me from the roof? Will someone come?
Will anyone come?
Does anyone even know we're here?
As Ari began her ascent, she had to abandon her makeshift walking stick - it was impossible to carry it while clinging to the wall and navigating the partially collapsed staircase. She pressed herself against the wall, finding handholds in cracks and gaps, pulling herself upward step by agonizing step.
Don't look down. Don't look down. If you look down you'll see the fire and if you see the fire you'll fall and if you fall you'll burn and -
She looked down.
The flames below seemed to reach for her, orange fingers stretching upward, hungry, patient. Smoke billowed around her, making each breath a battle.
I'm going to die here. I'm going to die on these stairs. I'm going to fall and burn and no one will ever find me. They'll find my bones. Just bones. Burned black. They won't even know it's me.
Halfway up, a massive explosion shook the entire building. The blast wave slammed into Ari like a physical force, nearly throwing her backward off the stairs. Her fingers scrabbled desperately at the wall, nails breaking against stone, finding purchase at the last possible second.
A terrifying scream erupted from somewhere below - not one voice, but dozens, all crying out in unified agony as they burned alive. The sound was inhuman, a choir of the damned, rising and rising until it seemed to fill the entire world.
The sound shattered something fundamental inside Ari.
They're burning. They're all burning. Everyone's burning. I can hear them burning. I can HEAR them DYING -
Tears began streaming from her eyes like rivers, unstoppable and overwhelming. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably despite the oppressive heat. Her legs barely carried her the rest of the way to the upper floor, moving on pure instinct, pure animal survival reflex.
The moment she stepped off the damaged stairs and set foot on solid flooring, every bit of strength left her body. She collapsed completely, hitting the stone floor hard enough to bruise.
Crying out loud - raw, broken sounds torn from somewhere deep in her chest - her whole body shook violently. She curled into a fetal position, clinging to her own leg, making herself as small as possible. If she was small enough, maybe the fire wouldn't find her. Maybe the ceiling wouldn't fall. Maybe she could just disappear.
Mother. I want my mother. I want to go home. Please let me go home. Please please please I'll be good I'll marry him I'll do whatever you want just let me go home let me see Mother one more time
From frightened despair, Ari began scratching at her head frantically, compulsively. Her fingers dug into her scalp, pulling, tearing. More and more of her dark blue hair came loose in her hands - clumps of it, falling around her like dark snow. But she didn't care, didn't even notice.
Wrong. Everything's wrong. I'm wrong. This place is wrong. Nothing's real. This isn't real. This can't be real.
She was gone. Her mind had fled, unable to process the horror, unable to remain present in a reality so terrible. What remained was just an empty shell that looked like Ari - a broken doll that still moved, still breathed, but held nothing inside.
I'm dead. I must be dead. I died and this is hell. This is what hell is. Burning. Screaming. Dying over and over and over -
Her cries were suddenly drowned out by another explosion - this one even closer, even more powerful. The entire structure shuddered violently beneath her. The upper floor, not far from where Ari now lay, began to collapse with a grinding roar. The sound of cracking wood and breaking stone pierced through everything, a deafening cacophony that muffled all other noise.
In a moment of pure instinct, Ari grabbed her ears, pressing her palms against them desperately. For several heartbeats, she heard nothing else - as though she'd gone completely deaf. The world became visual horror without sound, which was somehow worse. She could see the flames dancing but not hear them. Could see debris falling but not hear the impact.
Quiet. It's quiet. Why is it quiet? Did I die? Is this what dying feels like?
Even her own crying became silent to her, so she stopped, conserving what little strength remained.
She lay on the floor - helpless, exhausted, wounded, utterly without hope or any conceivable way to survive. And slowly, gradually, a strange calm descended over her. The terror receded, replaced by something else. Acceptance. Relief.
A faint smile emerged on Ari's soft, dust-covered lips.
I will be free from him. I won't have to marry him. I won't have to be another wife who disappears.
At least there's that. At least I'll die as myself. Arianna Rosviel. Not Arianna... whatever his name is. Not his wife. Not his property.
Just me.
Just Ari.
The thought made her smile wider, even as tears continued to stream down her face.
"GET UP!"
The masculine voice shattered the growing silence around her like a hammer through glass. Ari lifted her head weakly but saw no one. The hallway was empty except for smoke and fire and death.
Who's there? Who keeps telling me to get up? Is it Father? Is Father here?
No. Father's dead. Father's been dead for years.
Then who?
Yet following the instruction - because what else was there to do? - Ari pulled herself from her fetal position and began crawling forward. Her body moved without her conscious direction, as though someone else was controlling her limbs.
Puppet. I'm a puppet. Something's pulling my strings. Making me move.
Slowly. Without motivation. Without thought. Secretly praying to be crushed by the collapsing upper floor, to have this nightmare finally end.
Just let it fall. Let it all fall. Let me rest. I'm so tired. So tired of being afraid.
Directly ahead of her, a door suddenly slammed open with tremendous force, the sound like a gunshot in the crackling silence. A single thought flashed through her mind: Help?
It was instantly obliterated.
A man stumbled through the doorway, completely engulfed in flames. Every inch of him was burning - his hair a crown of fire, his clothes melted into his skin, his hands raised before his face as though he could somehow shield himself from his own burning. His screams were inhuman - high-pitched shrieks of pure agony that seemed impossible for a human throat to produce, sounds that belonged to tortured animals, not people.
His arms windmilled wildly as he ran down the hallway in the opposite direction from Ari, his entire body a torch of orange and yellow fire. Each footstep left a burning print on the stone floor.
Ari couldn't move. Couldn't look away. Couldn't even breathe.
That's a person. That's a person burning. That's what burning alive looks like. That could be me. That WILL be me.
He made it perhaps ten meters before his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed face-first onto the stone floor with a wet, heavy sound - meat hitting stone. For a terrible moment, he continued to burn, his body twitching and convulsing, fingers scrabbling at the floor. Then even that stopped. The flames continued to consume him, but he no longer moved. No longer screamed.
The smell reached Ari a moment later - horrible and wrong.
She vomited. Couldn't help it. Her stomach convulsed and everything came up - nothing but bile and ash and horror.
Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong WRONG -
Her mind was screaming, a constant internal shriek that wouldn't stop.
Ari, witnessing this horror, could only clutch at her chest, feeling her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst. No more tears would fall - she had none left. No cry would escape her lips - her voice was completely gone. Not a single coherent thought could form beyond the endless screaming in her head.
Can't can't can't can't CAN'T -
She crawled past the burning corpse, not looking at it directly but unable to avoid seeing it in her peripheral vision. The flames cast dancing shadows on the walls. The smell followed her.
Don't think about it. Don't think about what burning feels like. Don't think about the pain. Don't think about -
She passed more bodies as she crawled -
A woman collapsed near a window, her body charred beyond recognition, limbs drawn up in the pugilistic position that fire creates. She looked like she was boxing with the air, frozen in that grotesque pose forever.
Was she fighting? Fighting the fire? Fighting to live?
An elderly man slumped in a doorway, half his body crushed beneath a fallen beam, still clutching a leather-bound book as though he'd been trying to save it. His eyes were open, staring at the book. His lips were moving.
Is he still alive? Is he praying? What's he saying?
Ari crawled closer, close enough to hear the whisper.
"...my son's journal... promised I'd keep it... promised..."
Then his lips stopped moving. His eyes stayed open, but they stopped seeing.
He died. He just died. Right in front of me. I watched him die.
Two children - servants' children, perhaps - huddled together in a corner, their small bodies covered with a tapestry that hadn't been enough to save them from the smoke. They were holding each other, arms wrapped tight.
Ari stopped crawling. Stared at the children.
They're so small. They're smaller than Liriel. They're babies. They're just babies.
Something inside her splintered further, cracks spreading through her psyche like ice breaking.
I can't. I can't do this. I can't see this. I can't -
And then, cutting through the nightmare like a knife through cloth, she heard crying. The unmistakable sound of a child's sobs - raw, terrified, but alive.
Alive. Someone's alive. Someone's still alive.
The thought pierced through her broken mind, found some core of herself that hadn't shattered yet. Some part that was still Arianna Rosviel, still the girl who'd wanted to be a healer, still the person who couldn't ignore a crying child.
She dragged herself toward the sound, each movement agony, until she reached a doorway. Peeking inside, she saw colorful pink walls - or what had been pink beneath the soot and ash. A decorated wardrobe, a shelf, a bed with curtains. Scattered across the floor were wilting flowers and papers covered with crayon drawings.
Ari forced herself upright, standing by clinging desperately to the doorframe. Her legs shook so badly she could barely support her weight.
"Someone here?" she managed to say, though it came out no louder than a whisper, barely audible even to herself. Her throat felt like sandpaper, each word painful.
The effort triggered another coughing fit. She fell to her knees, hacking violently, tasting blood.
A small figure crawled out from beneath the bed, clutching a teddy bear to her chest like a lifeline. It was Liriel - Kreaton's youngest sister, the joyful child who'd been so excited to meet her earlier. Now her face was streaked with tears and soot, her eyes wide with terror, her entire body trembling.
"ARI!" Liriel screamed, her voice raw and breaking. She ran forward, throwing herself at Ari, her small arms wrapping around Ari's neck and squeezing tight enough to hurt. "ARI! I thought you were dead! I thought everyone was dead! I thought I was alone!"
The child's words tumbled out in a desperate rush, each one breaking against Ari like waves.
She's alive. She's alive. I found her. I saved her.
No. You didn't save her. You haven't saved anyone. You couldn't save that woman. You couldn't save those children. You won't save her either.
Everyone dies. Everyone burns.
Ari was barely present, her mind floating somewhere far above her body. She hugged the child back out of instinct rather than emotion, her arms moving on autopilot. Her face was blank, empty, a mask with nothing behind it.
"We have to go," Ari whispered, though to her it seemed as if someone else was speaking through her body, moving her lips like a puppet, using her voice without her permission.
Go where? There's nowhere to go. Down is fire. Outside is far. We'll never make it. We're going to die here.
We're already dead. We just don't know it yet.
Another massive explosion rocked the building - the most powerful yet. The blast wave felt like a physical punch, stealing the air from Ari's lungs. Liriel fell to her knees, screaming in abject terror, her hands clapping over her ears. Ari clung to the doorframe with both hands, her knuckles white, barely managing to remain standing.
The sound of cracking wood and breaking stone followed immediately - a deep, grinding roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The sound of the world ending. The sound of everything falling apart.
Ari could only look upward as the ceiling above them fractured in a spider-web pattern, cracks spreading across its surface like lightning. Chunks of plaster fell, then larger pieces, then massive stone blocks.
This is it. This is how I die. Crushed. Like that woman. Like the old man. Crushed and burned and forgotten.
At least it'll be quick.
At least I won't burn.
Then, with horrible inevitability, the entire floor above began to collapse directly onto their heads. Massive chunks of stone and timber plummeted downward, blotting out the ceiling, blotting out the light, blotting out everything.
I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry, Astra. I'm sorry, Farah.
I'm sorry I wasn't stronger.
I'm sorry I couldn't -
Then - nothing.
Silence and pure darkness and an overwhelming feeling of relief washing over her like cool water.
The pain stopped. The fear stopped. The screaming stopped.
Finally,Finally, it's over.
Finally, I can rest.