There was nothing I could do as all those people died. A few made it out, I could see that, the man on the screen scrambling from his pulpit with a crowd of suited people around him while the majority of the congregation fled, mouths open in endless screaming as they charged for the exits in a sudden raging inferno that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
They didn't make it. Log jammed in the aisles with smoke blotting out the view, thick and black, almost as dark as Viviana's magic, men, women and children, old and young, falling over each other, choking, shouting, dying.
I would remember the sight of their inevitable destruction for the rest of my life.
While I watched and my heart shattered into a million shards that drove endless agony into my soul, forced to bear witness from my own foolish lack of listening to Leah's warning, while she wept against me, her magic mingling with mine in a way that felt familiar, I died inside.
Why was it always fire?