"I am not angry... Not at all. You son of a– Arius, come back here! I may have a knife, BUT I certainly won't stab you~!"
Ijekiel tried to cough out the smoke that entered his lungs, pushing past the crowds that stayed to watch the carnage.
Flames devour the wooden house. The blue inferno seemed so surreal despite how the heat brought him back to reality.
Ijekiel pants, golden eyes shaking at the sight. Arius stands beside him, trying his best to call out for his friend."Kiel, listen to me!" Arius proceeds to say words he could no longer comprehend.
Arius continued to call his name but Ijekiel was already running his way to the burning house.
At the front were the many people. Some crying, wailing, screaming, running, watching, bleeding—everything was in shambles.
"Cloe! Cloe– my daughter was near here!!! Where is my daughter?!" A woman kneels on the ground, banging on the scorching rocks that caused her blisters.
"Thomas, what were you thinking?!" A man slapped his son's face, hard enough that blood appeared. "Cloe was planting trees here and you–"
"I-i-it was just a prank! I swear, father! I didn't mean for sister to get dragged in!" The perpetrator of the fire tries to defend himself, concerned for himself—not for the affected.
"Maria! Hurry and call the town guards! Do we have any water nearby?!" Natasha was present, ordering around for the people to act while keeping the Mayor's wife—Cloe's mother, Isabella—stable.
Regardless of their anxious clamors, Ijekiel realized one thing—'None of them are worrying for Quitterie... The owner of the house...'
As if darkness was swallowing him, it became harder for him to breathe.
His stance falters a bit, thorns pricking his heart when he acknowledges how no one cared.
Ijekiel could only hear the crackling of the conflagration—nothing more, nothing less. His attention was solely on the flames engulfing the building.
YOU ARE READING
You Will Live This Time・WMMAP (Hiatus)
General Fiction『There was once a boy who had a father, mother, and younger sister. They were twins, born under the shining moon on the sixteenth of August. Having golden hair resembling his father's, eyes shimmering like rubellites whenever he smiled. Pinky promis...