Firebird (Revised)

Chapter 5- Fearless

Chapter 5- Fearless

   I couldn’t see anything. So much smoke wafted into my eyes that they burned and stung. I blindly wove my way past the towering flames.

   There was nothing. Nothing but fire and smoke and it was my fault.

   I heard screams all around me but couldn’t find anyone near. I myself screamed until I breathed in mouthfuls of smoke and ash and coughed so violently my throat was quickly raw. It was so hard to breath. I gasped and choked, panicking as each breath shortened.

   Remains rained down in fiery shards. Sparks burned against my bare arms and face. I tried to yell, only able to mouth a name.

   There was a light ahead through the blackness and blaze. I followed it, dodging the hungry flames that furiously tried to engulf me. As I reached the light, I could feel the cool, fresh air outside the burning tent. I got closer and closer…

   A huge, fiery beam fell in my path, missing me by only inches. Now there was no escaping death. I screamed as loud as my raspy voice would permit. No one heard me. I knew that, but what else could I do?

   Someone did hear me and he answered from not far away. I turned to face the voice and saw Fargus making his way towards me. He was weakened as I was and coughed constantly. I took another breath, covering my mouth and nose in my arm. I needed to get to him.

   There was a loud crack above and I looked up with burning eyes. The flaming tent was coming down…

   “Bella!”

   I trashed and screamed until someone pulled me against them and whispered in my ear, stroking my hair. “It was only a dream. It’s alright.”      

   Tears leaked down my cheek and onto his shoulder. I breathed in deeply trying to calm myself. I’d had nightmares before but never like that one. It felt so real. So real I could still smell the singed tent as I thought about it.

   Astley held me tightly until I pulled away, wiping tears and cold sweat from my face. I was in my tent, covered up on my cot. It was dark outside and I could only see from a lantern that was lit on the stool by my bed. A soft rain pattered against the canvas of the tent.

   Astley was sitting at the edge of the cot looking genuinely concerned and even more pale that usual. His deep eyes were filled with worry. It made him look much older. He kept one of my hands in both of his. “Are you alright now?”

   I was shaking too badly to even speak so I only nodded, holding his arm against me. When I used to have nightmares when I was young, papa would sit me on his lap in the rocking chair and sing an old lullaby until I would fall back to sleep. His large arms could wrap me up completely and it was always so comforting.