Chapter 246

Nathan

The first step into the burning structure felt like stepping into hell itself. The air around me was superheated, burning my lungs with every inhalation. The once grand building, known for its exquisite woodwork and intricate designs, was now an inferno.

Flames roared around me, dancing menacingly like vengeful spirits awakened from a deep slumber.

I could hear the distant shouts from the town square—desperate pleas for the safety of the missing child. But inside, those voices were drowned out by the relentless roar of the blaze.

A wooden beam collapsed to my left, sending a shower of sparks into the air. I shielded my face with an arm, feeling the heat singe my skin. The smoke was suffocating, and I pulled a cloth over my mouth, trying to filter the worst of it. Every breath was an effort.

As I navigated through the fiery maze, my thoughts were consumed by the little girl lost somewhere in this hellscape.

“Hello?!” I shouted, my voice sounding weak and frail amidst the inferno’s roar. “Is anyone here?!”

A faint whimper reached my ears, guiding me through the winding corridors of the burning structure.

“Hello?!” I called out again. “Stay where you are! I’m coming!”

The building was a maze of rooms, each more terrifying than the last. With every turn I took, flames threatened to block my path. But beyond the deafening roar of the fire and the distant cries from outside, I strained to listen for any signs of life within the building's rapidly deteriorating walls.

I began moving towards the main hall, recalling that it led to a series of smaller rooms. The ornate wooden carvings that once adorned the hall were now fuel for the all-consuming flames. The heat was so intense that I felt it pressing against my skin, trying to pierce through with its fiery fingers.

The wallpaper, a beautiful floral pattern that Olivia once mentioned loving when we visited this building, was now peeling and curling, consumed by the fiery blaze. Paintings and portraits, memories of generations past, were being reduced to ashes before my eyes.

Every door I tried was either jammed or led to another inferno. The desperation was mounting; every second felt like an eternity. The image of a child alone, terrified, and trapped kept me going, pushing through the blinding smoke and relentless heat.

Just then, I stumbled across a charred toy on the floor, a wooden horse, which heightened my urgency. It was a sign I was on the right path.

A few more steps, and I heard that faint whimper again, a beacon in the darkness, guiding me to that partially burnt door where hope was waiting. With a final lunge, my eyes burning from the smoke, I flung the door open.

Inside, curled up and trembling, was a little girl, her eyes wide with terror.

“Hey there,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and soothing. “I’m here to help.”

She looked at me, tears streaming down her soot-streaked face. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know, sweetheart,” I replied, carefully picking her up. Her tiny arms wrapped around my neck, clinging desperately. “We’re going to get out of here, okay?”

Emerging from the room, the pathway I had taken before was now blocked by a raging fire, caused by a burning beam that fell. I had to find another way out. My heart raced as I tried to remember the layout of the building, all the while holding onto the terrified child.

Suddenly, a section of the ceiling gave way, raining burning debris upon us. I shielded the girl, narrowly avoiding the falling timbers, feeling the heat scorching through my clothes.

“Hold on tight,” I murmured to her, praying that my strength wouldn’t fail me.

By some miracle, I finally caught sight of an exit. The early morning sunlight streamed through the smoke, beckoning us. With one final push, we emerged into the town square, away from the deadly embrace of the flames.

The cool early morning air was a stark contrast to the inferno behind us. I set the little girl down, watching as her mother raced towards us, tears of gratitude and relief streaming down her face.

“Sarah!” she cried, enveloping her daughter in a tight embrace.

“Mommy!” the little girl sobbed, wrapping her tiny arms around her mother’s neck. “The big strong man found me.”

“You saved her,” the mother said, looking at me with tear-filled eyes. “Thank you.”

Before I could respond, a commotion drew my attention. Olivia was pushing through the crowd. Within moments, she was at my side.

“Nathan!” she cried, reaching out to me. Her fingers grazed my face and arms, checking for burns or injuries. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re alright!”

“I’m fine, Liv,” I gasped, my lungs still trying to clear the smoke.

Olivia’s gaze met mine, a mixture of relief and fear. “You absolute idiot! Going in there like that. You could’ve been killed!”

Her voice was a mix of anger and concern, but I could see tears glistening in her eyes. Pulling her close, our bodies melted into a desperate embrace, momentarily forgetting the chaos surrounding us.

“I had to,” I murmured into her hair. “I couldn’t let her be trapped in there.”

She clutched me tighter, her voice barely a whisper. “Just promise me you won’t scare me like that again.”

But before I could respond, the Elders, their faces twisted in anger and disdain, broke through our reverie.

“You think this act of bravery will absolve you of your sins?” Elder Corbin spat, his eyes darting from me to Olivia.

“What sins are you talking about?” I retorted, feeling the weight of exhaustion setting in.

“Your foolishness,” Mingan said, her voice dripping with venom, “has brought this calamity upon us.”

“Had you handed over the child, none of this would have happened,” Amara chimed in, her face showing no trace of sympathy for the devastation around us.

Olivia’s voice trembled with anger. “This isn’t about Elliot. This is about the fire that was set intentionally. And what would you have us do? Give up an innocent child to those monsters?”

Mingan took a menacing step forward, pointing an accusing finger at Olivia. “And what of your witchcraft, girl? Did you think we would simply forget? The way you used dark arts to kick us out of your home?”

“I didn’t use any witchcraft,” Olivia protested, her voice rising in desperation. “I was only protecting my child, who you were trying to kidnap.”

Around us, the murmurs grew louder. The gathered townsfolk, initially relieved, now looked on with suspicion. Whispers of ‘witch’ and ‘sorcery’ spread through the crowd like wildfire.

“Quiet!” Elder Corbin shouted, drawing the attention of the square. “The evidence is clear. This woman, with her dark arts and defiance, has brought destruction upon our town.”

The murmurs of agreement were terrifying in their intensity. Trust was a fragile thing, and in a moment, it seemed like Olivia's had been shattered.

Feeling a rising sense of panic, I grabbed Olivia’s arm. “You should go home,” I whispered urgently.

As we retreated, the accusing shouts of the crowd followed us. “Witch!” they yelled. “Traitor!”