Noah could feel the burning sensation on his face, and as he opened his eyes, it wasn't the familiar warmth of sunlight that greeted him, no it was night after all. Instead, a searing heat clawed at his skin, and the air itself seemed to pulse as the heat spread all across.

"No, no, no," his young mind whispered in a desperate plea, an instinctual denial that sought refuge in the comfort of disbelief. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat echoed the dissonance between what his eyes beheld and what his innocent spirit yearned to reject.

His wide eyes, still adjusting to the surreal glow of flames, struggled to make sense of the flickering silhouettes that twisted and burned in the inferno's grasp.

The heat seared his eyes, forcing him to squint and blink rapidly in an attempt to alleviate the stinging sensation. The flames bore a painful edge that penetrated the very core of his gaze.

As Noah continued to stare, the fiery hues painted an abstract nightmare across the canvas of his perception. Yet, with each blink, the harsh reality began to pierce through the disorienting flames. His eyes, now clearing up, finally comprehended the heart-wrenching truth that unfolded before him.

In that painful moment of realization, Noah's trembling legs gave way, and he sank to his knees. The once-familiar landscape now revealed itself as a haunting tableau of devastation. Tears welled up in his young eyes, mirroring the burning inferno that consumed the village.

Yet, amid the ruins, he did not feel a surge of rage nor the fiery tendrils of hatred. Instead, an overwhelming wave of sadness and emptiness washed over his conscience. The flickering flames mirrored the hollow ache within him, echoing the silent void left by the absence of everything he once held dear.

Such was the grip of utter hopelessness, chaining his small form to the ground. The weight of despair bore down on his shoulders, and he realized there was no way to undo the irreversible. In the midst of the smoldering remnants of his village, Noah found himself ensnared in a reality where such devastation eclipsed any semblance of hope one could find.

"Momm-Mommy, daddy," he choked as he wailed out in a teary voice, the weight of his grief pushing him down even more. His scream echoed through the night, a heartrending wail that mingled with the crackling flames, marking the shattering of a child's innocence amid the ruins of what was once home.

And as if to mock his despair, the anguished cries of the villagers echoed in the air. Some, caught in the merciless grip of the flames, burned in agonizing pain. Amidst the chaos, a haunting scene unfolded before Noah's teary eyes. A child, no older than six, engulfed in flames, her screams piercing the air like a wail from the depths of hell. Flesh burned, lungs disintegrated, all that could happen, happened. The horror played out before him, a cruel spectacle of suffering, as the young soul succumbed to the merciless embrace of the inferno. Noah, paralyzed by the unfolding tragedy, bore witness to the unimaginable cruelty of fate, a nightmare that would mark itself onto his mind, for all eternity.

The acrid scent of burning wood mixed with the sickening aroma that was burnt flesh, creating an olfactory assault that clung to the air. The crackling flames, once a comforting warmth during village gatherings, now roared with a malevolence that seemed to feed on the very essence of his once-peaceful home.

Each gut-wrenching scream and the sizzle of burning wood, a vivid nightmarish soundscape, etching itself into Noah's senses. The once-familiar sights and sounds of his village were now twisted and distorted, leaving an indelible mark of trauma on the canvas of his memory. The intensity of the environment overwhelmed him, blurring the line between reality and the nightmare he desperately wished to wake from.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

In the midst of his unyielding despair, Noah's tear-clouded eyes twitched. Through the haze of agony, he caught a glimpse of an ominous sight— a colossal, swirling ball of fire at the center of the village. The very place meant for hope and potential, the place where the children of talent, were tested, had become the epicenter of unimaginable destruction, leaving Noah to bear witness to the twisted irony that is fate.

In the midst of his emotions, a determination ignited within Noah, fueled by an inexplicable rage as he came to a conclusion, that... was the cause. Shaking horribly, he forced his small form to stand, fueled by a surge of misplaced anger towards the malevolent ball of fire. As tears streaked down his soot-covered face, Noah grabbed a small rock from the scorched earth beneath his feet and hurled it towards the inferno. With each step, he gathered more rocks, hurling them with a child's futile defiance, inching closer to the heart of the calamity that had stolen his world, not in the slightest thinking about this own self.

Amidst his futile assault, Noah's voice cracked through his tears and despair.

"Stop it! Stop it! You bad fire!"

Each word carried the weight of a child's desperate plea, an useless attempt to quell the devastation that had befallen his village.

But just then... suddenly, a loud woosh could be heard, it seemed to travel at a speed that rivaled Zephyr, the very flames twitching from it's arrival.

"Hey kid, what are you trying to do?"

The voice seemed to be of a middle-age man, as it cut through the midst of destruction. A firm hand reached out, gently touching Noah's shoulder, halting his determined march toward the inferno. The voice carried a mix of weariness and concern, as if trying to anchor the distraught child amidst the devastation.

The middle-aged man patted Noah's head with a solemn reassurance, his touch a fleeting comfort amidst the tragedy. As he passed by, he let go of Noah's shoulder and spoke, "Let me handle this; you sit tight and watch the show." With those words, the man ventured toward the blaze, there wasn't even the slightest chance for Noah to speak. Each step the man took, a resolute stride into the swirling chaos. Noah, left behind, could only watch as the figure faced the inferno with a determination that defied the devastation surrounding them.

The figure could now be fully-seen in Noah's vision, the man was clad in a cloak that draped gracefully over his frame. The hood concealed his eyes, creating an air of mystery albeit revealing his nose, mouth, and beard. The fabric, though rich and finely crafted, bore an alluring shade of obsidian that seemed to absorb the very essence of the surrounding chaos. He moved with grace, walking through the destruction as it didn't effect him at the slightest. The cloak billowed with each step, a striking silhouette against the backdrop of destruction. No wand adorned his attire, no ostentatious embellishments—only the profound simplicity of a mage dressed in the elegance of all-black attire.

And as Noah watched in awe, the man, now just a few inches away from the raging inferno, performed a mesmerizing feat. Without a hint of hesitation, a shimmering bubble of water seamlessly materialized around his entire body, creating a barrier against the consuming flames. He effortlessly stepped into the heart of the blazing tempest, the bubble evaporating as he entered, an intrusion into the ball of fire. Noah stood there, bewildered by the spectacle before him, his young mind grappling with the realization that what he just witnessed could only be described as "magic." The cloak-clad mage moved through the flames, as now he was nowhere to be found upon entering, leaving Noah to ponder the mysteries of this extraordinary display.

Within the confines of the ball of fire, the atmosphere changed drastically. The outer layer, a blazing tempest, gave way to an eerily calm hollow interior. The cloaked mage stepped into this surreal space, his eyes adjusting to the shifted reality within.

In the center, a child knelt on the ground, seemingly in a deep slumber. Her eyes, once innocent, had transformed into an unsettling shade of demonic red. It was Eleni, the same child whose extraordinary magical potential had sparked the cataclysmic events that unfolded outside, although it didn't seem to be at her own will. The eerie serenity of her form in contrast to the chaotic destruction outside left the mage both captivated and unnerved, as he stood witness to the unexpected transformation within the heart of the inferno.

The cloaked mage, driven by a mix of caution and curiosity, decided to approach the kneeling figure from a distance. A small, shimmering bubble materialized in the air, a subtle manifestation of his intent to probe and understand the transformation that had befallen the young girl.

As the bubble floated gently towards Eleni, something occurred. With an unnatural swiftness, her head snapped completely backwards as it stared deep into the man's soul, an unsettling twist that echoed like a ghostly apparition.

"The hell?!"

The suddenness of the movement startled even the seasoned mage as he shouted, the head of Eleni still staring at him as he instinctively assumed a defensive stance, it was unclear what would come next...