~ 45 ~ Rekindling

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Sparks and heat shot into the air and through the crowd as the bonfire burst in an eruption of light and heat. Screams were lost in the roar of flames as they flared out into the masses, and Lenesa coughed as the smoke clogged her lungs and the impact pushed her backwards along the cobblestones.

Protect, heal, protect.

It seemed like years, but the flames finally receded. Lenesa released her magic and collapsed to the ground, ignoring the way she landed on her wounded shoulder and the fact that it should have healed itself by now. Maybe she lost consciousness, but by the time she was able to focus again, embers had landed on the wooden stage and caught it on fire. Most people were running away in horror at the explosion, but some, including Decliteur, were staying to bring buckets from the fountain to put out the flames.

Was anyone hurt? Lenesa fought to raise her head and look around. A few figures who had been closest to the bonfire were lying unmoving on the ground, but they didn't look too badly injured. Still, Lenesa realized, she should have put up more protections against the extreme heat of the explosion, and not just the flames. Though skin may not have been burned, the heat might have proved too intense.  Clothing of some others closest to the fire had caught the flames, and the smell of burnt hair lingered in the air. The burnt clothing was quickly discarded with fearful cries, and the cobblestones were dotted with smoking remnants of fabric.

Aside from those singed by the explosion, there were also several individuals who were getting trampled in the panicked stampede rushing to leave the plaza. Lenesa had no way of helping those people in her current state, and tried her best to blot out the screams that carried over the shouts and sounds of tramping feet. She looked away, back to the smoldering remains of the bonfire. Where was the Turned witch?

There was no sign of her. Either the explosion had reduced her to cinders, or she had already made her escape—something she herself should do, Lenesa realized through her daze.

She struggled to her feet, swaying against a wave of lightheadedness that threatened to sent her back to the ground. Her legs felt too much like water and there wasn't enough sensation in them to keep her standing for long. Lenesa checked that the hood was still covering her head before taking a few steps towards the buildings at the edge of the plaza. The arched columns beneath the buildings seemed too far away, but there was nothing closer that offered a hiding place.

The sounds around her had grown frightening in their volume, screams and terrified cries echoing through the plaza in an indiscernible cacophony. Someone ran past, bumping into her injured shoulder, and Lenesa let out a pained grunt before she could stop the sound.

"Hey! Someone stop her! Stop that woman!"

The shout carried over the other sounds of panic, and Lenesa turned. The man who had taken notice of her kneeling on the ground earlier was pointing her way, and the witch hunters near the half-blackened stage had now looked up at the order.

She had to run.

Fighting against the darkness that threatened her vision, Lenesa pushed through the crowd, heedless of the pain radiating through her body. The fact that everyone else was already shoving in their terrified haste to get away from the explosion made it even more difficult for her to get away.

Boots pounded on the ground behind her—she didn't dare turn to look back. Shouts accompanied the sounds of pursuit, in cries of "Stop her!" and "Out of the way!"

Lenesa's blood pounded in her ears, her ragged breathing taking in very little of the air she so desperately needed. She was almost at the columns now, where she might be able to lose them in the shadows—

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