Willow struggled to wake. It was too hot.

Had the fire burnt out of control?

Someone was screaming outside her window.

Willow wondered idly if the children were fighting. They’d been doing that more frequently since the funerals. Forcing herself up, bleary-eyed, she stumbled to the window, ready to yell at whoever it was, but froze.

The sheer number of voices magnified the screams joining the shout, and she forced herself to move faster and pull the curtain away and pushed the blinds aside roughly. She coughed harshly, the bright orange light burning her eyes and her quick movement had stirred up nearby embers which flew toward her face and burnt her.

The compound was alight, flames licking at the heels of fleeing residents. Smoke was heavy in the air, trickling in through the open window and hanging low over the buildings. The neighbouring building was fully alight and so obscured by flame and smoke, Willow had trouble making it out. Willow continued to cough harshly as she retreated.

Panicked, Willow gathered her precious belongings and, praying the King wouldn’t notice, shrank them down and placed them in her pockets. She stumbled a little at the added weight; she could shrink her items, but the weight remained the same. She quickly righted herself and rushed for the door–who knew how quickly the flames would spread? The roof’s here were made of dried reeds and this would only make the spread easier and more dangerous.

Willow helped all she met as she ran for the exit of the building. On reaching the doorway, she coughed, momentarily blinded. At least the nausea was gone... Willow thought idly as she helped others keep moving before horror struck her once more and she turned to sprint in the opposite direction.

On reaching the nursery, her heart froze. It was fully aflame, roof precariously balanced, and from within she could hear the terrified screams of the children trapped within. Around her stood the helpless parents; there was nothing they could do, well-meaning strangers restrained many, facing the claws of the desperate parents.

Desperately, she dashed for the door, dodging those who would stop her. She crashed through a window, scattering the reed coverings, and rolled, ignoring the stings crisscrossing her arm. Although winded and blinded, Willow slowly, painstakingly gathered each child into the lower rooms. They followed her, blindly trusting in the one adult figure they had to cling on to. She’d been forced to enlist several extra tiny hands to carry the infants, too young to do more than scream from their cots. Many were screaming and crying for their parents and when a roof beam crashed down, bringing a shower of embers with it beside them on the stairs, hell reigned supreme.

Shouting didn’t help and the children grew frantic. Desperately, she pushed the kids forward towards the back door, where she could hear the parents shouting desperately for their children.

“Scream as loud as you can!” She called, forcing back stuttering coughs. She was starting to feel dizzy from all the smoke but pushed it aside, helping the children to stand until they were all gathered in one room.

Willow forced back another cough, took a deep breath and through herself at the door, hoping to force it open. The heat had warped the wood and it remained stuck fast. Panic clawed at her through at she let out a desperate scream and tried again. The children, upon hearing her cries, screamed louder.

“Here!” Willow cried, despairingly. “The door’s stuck! Please!” She wedged her shoulder against the door, pushing with all her dying strength.

“Willow!” a masculine voice called and she heard the sounds of movement from just beyond.

“We’re here! She called back, hacking. “We’re all here but the door…!”

She heard scrabbling. “Move back!” the voice called.

Willow moved the children back, vision spotting and the fire on their heals. Willow could hear pieces of the roof coming down behind them. There was no other exit route.

Bang! Bang!

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The sounds of something heavy at the door scared the children more and it took all of Willow’s remaining goodwill to keep the children from running as the sound continued. Finally, the door seemed to crack down the middle as an axe was driven into the centre. The hole widened and hands reached through to pull as much away as possible and Willow was finally able to push children through the space.

Not until all the children had been evacuated did Willow finally breath her first breath of fresh air in what felt like hours.

Once outside Willow noted, parents were running for them, quickly realising the miracle Willow had pulled off. The stress of the moment almost made it easy to forget the dire situation they all shared.

Willow forced herself to remain standing as she helped children run. No need to add extra worry by collapsing. Each step was heavy, her body desperately protesting doing anything but rolling over and going to sleep. But she pushed on. The wind had picked up and Willow did her best to spare the children the embers that were swept up in. She could feel dozens of burns, could smell the singeing of her clothes, thankful they hadn’t fully caught fire. A child stumbled and fell just ahead of her, and she seamlessly passed the child in her arms to another adult without stopping before skidding to a halt beside the fallen one. As she stopped, lifting the child into her arms, the true horror of the situation unfolded before her eyes.

At the opposite end of the compound marched row after row of King’s Guard, appearing as if from nowhere pushing through the heavy smoke. They moved methodically, pausing only to pick off any stragglers with deft strikes of iron, and Willow watched in horror as they ripped a mother from her hiding place by her hair, a child in hands.

Shakily, Willow wrenched the fallen child up into her arms, sprinting after the group of parents she’d been following and hurrying them alone, adding two more children to her own load as other parents lifted more children and ran.

Felix joined her then, scaring her as he latched onto her arm and matching her pace. Once the panic had worn off, Willow felt a momentary sense of relief that he was mostly unharmed. He’d obviously escaped a burning building, but his burns looked mostly superficial although his clothes were in poor repair. He kept shooting furtive looks over his shoulder his hand clenching around her arm every time and, panic returning, she carefully juggled the three children she carried around until she could shove a child into his arms and used her free hand to grab for his clenched fist and pull him away from the carnage unfolding behind them.

Willow tried to block out the tortured, fearful screams as she ran, the children crying, the buildings collapsing around them, shooting embers into their faces, the smoke making it hard to see, hard to think. She half led, half followed the rest of the parents out of the compound and into the surrounding forest. They kept together as best they could between the tightly packed trees, children holding on to the person beside them to keep them close.

Finally, the sun rose, filtering beams of light down to the forest floor and giving the area an eerie glow against the smoke. Other survivors, dusty and coughing, met them, and they joined them, tearful reunions happening around them. As they trudged on, they eventually met with others, sent out to collect any survivors.

They were led back to a hasty camp, visually unappealing but somewhere to rest and recuperate. It had clearly not been made for the number of people slowly trickling in, but it was better than nothing. Complete sections were filled with sleeping bodies, passed out from exhaustion and smoke inhalation on the forest floor while others stood guard, keeping watch for any sign of danger.

Willow left Felix with the kids, impressing on him that she trusted no one else to keep them safe. He had nodded seriously and sat amongst them, tending bruises and drying tears. Willow hoped that was enough to stop him doing anything reckless.

Willow herself was bone-weary, each step a struggle. But she pushed herself on, searching for Edward. She found him standing in the centre of a group of older people, including Jonathon. At her approach, he had hurried over.

“Felix is safe. He came in with me,” She reassured as he drew close, and she watched him sag forward with relief and he let out a long sigh.

“How many others came with you?”

“Around twenty kids and at least one of their parents each, I think. It was hard to tell. Everything was burning and screaming... We picked up maybe ten stragglers as we moved through the compound, plus a few more in the forest before they found us. I think we were the last group out, had some trouble getting the kids out.” Willow shuddered, “The King’s Guard was doing a sweep on our heels. They killed anyone they found.”

Edward’s shoulders sagged. “That was, I think, the majority of the children in the compound. That is some good news in all this.”

Willow nodded. “Getting the kids out was difficult. They're still talking about it. It cost me, barely made it here without collapsing. I desperately need to sleep; I can barely stay upright.” She swayed as she spoke, and both Edward and Jonathon surged forward to stop her collapsing. She pushed on, “Someone needs to monitor Felix.”

Edward nodded and immediately sent Jonathon to oversee him while Edward half led, half carried her to a space.

He helped her sit. “If we need you, I will wake you,” he reassured and departed.

Laying down, Willow carefully arranged her battered body. Her arms hurt, as did her face. Thankfully, her tunic and hoes had protected most of her torso and legs, although they were in a terrible state now.

As she lay back her wounds throbbed painfully, but she couldn’t hold the exhaustion at bay and the world went black.