[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

65| When Storms Gather (Part Two) - 𝐈

[Mentions of blood. Minor injury. Fire. Peril.]

The forest fire rages on.

The world was burning. And right at the centre was the body of the Old King, trapped beneath the wooden posts and sheets of the collapsed tent. Blankets of orange hazed grey streaked through Lancelot's fixed sight upon the distant mass of dirtying silver. His chest tightened and tightened until he could not breathe.

Lightening whipped through the black clouded sky.

A harrowed scream pierced the silence that had deafened in Lancelot's ears. As rain rolled down into his eyes, a blur of moving silver and blue grew smaller. Obscuring his eyeline as it dodged shadows of sentinel trees and licks of mountainous flames— each trying to reach out and claim the pile of waxed veils and beams.

He stood alone. Unable to move his feet. His bones were cold right to their marrows and his heart punched against his ribs. Begging for air, yet... there was none. Around him, the burning forest was a blur.

And Lancelot was stuck.

A phantom feeling that he was somewhere else emptied him. Some way ahead of him, Ari's scrambling figure could not even pull his focus. The stone walls around him were getting closer. Shattering of glass and desperate screams cut above the flames growing higher up the turrets, reaching into the pitch of night.

He stood, staring. Winds blowing the thick fog of smoke all around. Flashes of pale skin grappled at the laying silver. He was on the outside, watching in.

You'll burn your hands.

"Lance— Help me!"

The girl from the flames...

"Lance I need you!" Cries so helpless, disappeared to the distance.

You'll burn if I don't help you.

A hard shove in his shoulder made Lancelot blink.

"Lance? What the hell are you doing!" Hector shook him like a rag.

He blinked again, focussing on his brother's wide eyes. Ashes smothered Hector's face, his mouth moving, but Lancelot didn't hear what was said. He looked across his shoulder and there were shadows of others converging where Adrian was trapped face down. Ari was— he could see her— she was halfway to the ground and shoving timber aside.

They lifted the fallen beams from off of Adrian's body, hot to touch from the rising heat of the scorching forest. Sheets of the partitions were being ripped with blades and pulled back. Hanna crouched beneath the thickest beam and braced it across his shoulders, pushing up against the weight until his knees locked. His tusked bared teeth glinted in the flame light.