Chapter 12 - From The Ashes

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Lynn

Guthrie stood there.

She grabbed Lynn by the wrist and dragged her out of the dorm. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Your nails are hurting me! RIE!"

Guthrie dropped her hands by her side as if stepping out of a trance, her thin lips parted. Lynn spoke softer. "What's wrong?"

Guthrie just took Lynn's hand and they ran together down the halls.

"No time!" She yelled.

They ran out of the dorms, into the hallway, into the gardens. Wind was lashing at Lynn's face, and she kept tripping, but Guthrie kept insistently pulling her along. They ran to the combat arena.

Lynn gasped. The stables were on fire. The smooth polished wood was crackling under the heat of the fire, smoke was coming out of the stables, horses were neighing, and jumping. And in the middle of it all was a familiar red head.

Mishal

There had never been a time where Mishal had not loved horses. She had started combat when she had first come to the academy, and they had trained with horses, she had been given a horse, and she had named her Elidi. Elidi was a palomino horse, with a rich golden coat and a thick fair mane. She had fed her oats every day, brushed her coat, cleaned out the stables, and spent most of her free time riding.

And now, in between all the smoke, and the horses trampling, Mishal was searching for Elidi, but she couldn't see. She had spent about twenty minutes opening the stable doors, coaxing the horses to come out, then leading them out to a safe place. Because Mishal was a fire spirit, she was very tolerant to heat, and fire didn't burn her. But the smoke was choking her and clouding her vision.

A large horse ran past her, tripping her backwards, she crawled towards the edge of the stables to avoid getting trampled. Mishal closed her eyes, there was a tightness in her chest. She tried to take a deep breath but ended up doubling over, coughing. She opened her eyes and saw Dahlia kneeling before her.

Her light brown wavy hair was tangled and, in a mess, her clothes were ripped and bloodied, but her jade-green eyes were shining, the fire reflected in them.

"Dahlia," Mishal whispered, "Get the horses out of here,"

Then the world went black.

Guthrie

Guthrie had never worked so hard before, she was trying to get the oxygen away so the fire wouldn't have anything to feed on, but she couldn't do it properly, otherwise no-one would have oxygen. She tried using the wind to push the fire backwards, away from where Betha and Dahlia were taking horses, and where Mishal was lying on the ground, unconscious. Lynn was trying to make it rain, though so far, she had only made a light shower, and the fire was still blazing.

Guthrie tried to focus on the air around her, her hands outstretched in front of her, feeling the heavy drumming of the wind, pushing the fire backwards. The flames kept leaping towards her, licking the wood and the dry grass. She felt the air around her pulsing, vibrating, and she willed it to push against the flames.

And then at last she felt it click. She felt the wind hot against her skin, and the air swirl around her, push outwards, the flames suddenly felt miles away. She had sensed the air was clean before she had seen it. The smoke was in the sky, and the stables were fifty metres away from where they originally had been. The air was peaceful, its insistent drumming was gone, replaced by only a soft reassuring humming.

Guthrie gasped. She looked to Dahlia and Betha, both staring at her with a horrified expression. She had done it. She had thrown the stables fifty metres. The fire was put out. The smoke had cleared, but the stables were no longer stables, just a heap of broken black wood. "Lia?" She whispered.

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