Darri held the rough spear at his side. He squinted as he looked down the street of the city, now burning and crumbling, fire lapping at the walls. People ran in fear, moving towards the trees. None of the Fìor chased them; they just continued to burn the buildings, only fighting the guards that tried to stop them.

He turned now as a cough came from a burning building. He stepped to it and squinted, finding the person who had been stuck in the debris. He grunted and pulled the burning log away before tugging them from the wreckage, looking over them briefly.

“Fífl. You should have run like the others when we came,” he scolded like a parent.