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Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well. Firstly, THANK YOU FOR OVER 1K VIEWS!!! *ahem* *composes oneself* Secondly, after some debate (and when I say some I mean within a minute after publishing the last part), this part is going to be shorter than the last. Thank you again to WillSpearsShake for requesting this! If any of you would like to make a request, please leave it in the comments. Thank you, and enjoy! Xx
- ♛ 𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔 ♛
A hand rose from the splinters and ashes, blackened and burnt. Ripples of red that swam up and around his arm and clung to his shoulders. He slammed his palms to the ground, clawing at the earth. He slowly emerged from the depths of the earth, a face marred with blood and burns. He breathed in the swell of smoke, and a roar tore through his throat. His jaws opened to release the agonising cry, as crimson dripped from his lips. He clawed at the earth again, drawing his crippled body out from the soil.
He thought he would die that day. The inferno had turned on him, capturing him in a ring of a fire, pulling at every limb and muscle on him. Tearing his skin from his bones, pulling his head from his skull. He had screamed- he thought someone had heard. No one aided him as he was grinded to ash. Now, that he was living- barely flesh and bone, but still living- he would have the head of anyone who passed his burning house without a second thought. He had given these people a home, a life! They should have aided their master when he was searing, not walk away from him.
He roared again, through the smoke and the mist. He tried to prop his leg up, finding he didn't have a foot. He dared to looked down at the sight, and screeched at the heavens. What monster would do this?! What creature would be so heartless?
The village girls soon approached, and shrieked in horror at the sight of their master. He demanded them, in a gravelly tone, to heal him. The girls stumbled away, screaming into their hands and calling for their mothers. They could not bare the sight of an almost dead man. When their mothers came, they too stared in horror. As the man's agony twisted through his body, his demands became more frequent. With a seething temper, he called for them all to take him to be healed.
The woman who he was greeted with, Corinna, tended to each burn with a scowl on her face. With each grimace, his patience dwindled. When he barked to finally get out what was wrong, Corinna swung her palm against the burnt side of his face. He couldn't even scold her for her audacity, for the woman had already detailed what was wrong. Her daughter had left that evening, without a word, without a note. After the man pressed her, the healer revealed that her daughter had left only two things.
