Post by Lev on Jul 6, 2016 3:08:31 GMT
His leg was too close to the fire. That was the only thing Willem could compare to the searing heat that burned steadily around him, devouring everything its smokey tongue and fierce fingers could purchase. Every inch drew his sleeping foot farther from the safety of his sleeping chair and closer to the fireplace. It wouldn't be long before the second floor started to creak like a stretching muscle and cave in with Willem still inside. No, he didn't have much time at all before the scorch claimed him. If black clouds didn't smother him first, that is. Where had the sound come from?! One clue, one note was all he needed. He hurried forward carefully with his mouth buried in the crook of his arm and his eyes narrowed to keep out the smoke. Even doing so he stumbled over debris and toppled furniture.
"Is anybody in there?!" He howled as loudly as his parched throat could manage. "Can anybody answer m-"
Creeeeek! Cree-creeek!
His suspicions were confirmed. It was coming from the next room! Willem shot toward the threshold near the rear of the main room, shoving obstacles out of his path with little care for the bodily damage their hot surfaces might cause. It wasn't the wisest thing to do. Few would venture to say that it was even a brave thing to do. In fact, it was an incredibly reckless and stupid thing to do when looked at under the icy lens of rationality. Willem had sisters that relied on him and his livelihood to get by, a kingdom full of guards that looked up to him and his levelheaded leadership, and people to protect that were worth more than the risk he was taking.. but Willem wasn't the same man anymore. He was a man on a mission; he was a man without absolution. And underneath the dark stone dining table of the neighboring room was his chance. A little brown-haired boy with his face caked in dried tears and soot had hidden himself from the approaching flames, and used the leg of the closest chair to screech when his voice couldn't. Willem's heart eased and raced simultaneously at the sight of the child whom he could only guess belonged to a servant of the house.
"Grab my hand!" Willem shouted through the muffle of his sleeve, the other arm extended urgently across the space between them. Thankfully, the little boy didn't hesitate. The instant their skin made contact Willem seized the youth's small body into his grip with unchecked force. Any bruises or pain exchanged for extra seconds to escape the flames was more than a fair price. The building seemed to growl angrily at the thought of losing its small victim. Wooden beams started split and crack to form jagged snarling teeth at the passing prisoners. By Udel's mysterious grace the two spilled out into the cool air of the cobblestone streets and the waiting attention of three or four onlookers, some women and some soldiers.
"Somebody take him from me," Willem coughed. "See if he's breathing!"
"Is anybody in there?!" He howled as loudly as his parched throat could manage. "Can anybody answer m-"
Creeeeek! Cree-creeek!
His suspicions were confirmed. It was coming from the next room! Willem shot toward the threshold near the rear of the main room, shoving obstacles out of his path with little care for the bodily damage their hot surfaces might cause. It wasn't the wisest thing to do. Few would venture to say that it was even a brave thing to do. In fact, it was an incredibly reckless and stupid thing to do when looked at under the icy lens of rationality. Willem had sisters that relied on him and his livelihood to get by, a kingdom full of guards that looked up to him and his levelheaded leadership, and people to protect that were worth more than the risk he was taking.. but Willem wasn't the same man anymore. He was a man on a mission; he was a man without absolution. And underneath the dark stone dining table of the neighboring room was his chance. A little brown-haired boy with his face caked in dried tears and soot had hidden himself from the approaching flames, and used the leg of the closest chair to screech when his voice couldn't. Willem's heart eased and raced simultaneously at the sight of the child whom he could only guess belonged to a servant of the house.
"Grab my hand!" Willem shouted through the muffle of his sleeve, the other arm extended urgently across the space between them. Thankfully, the little boy didn't hesitate. The instant their skin made contact Willem seized the youth's small body into his grip with unchecked force. Any bruises or pain exchanged for extra seconds to escape the flames was more than a fair price. The building seemed to growl angrily at the thought of losing its small victim. Wooden beams started split and crack to form jagged snarling teeth at the passing prisoners. By Udel's mysterious grace the two spilled out into the cool air of the cobblestone streets and the waiting attention of three or four onlookers, some women and some soldiers.
"Somebody take him from me," Willem coughed. "See if he's breathing!"