We burst from the stables like a storm, Kai's toned arms wrapping around me to grip the reins. White scars lift the leather as his fingernails scratch it, steering the horse into a strong gallop. I clutch the saddle horn with white-knuckled hands as a wind whips through my hair. Kai's chest presses against my back, a ripple of flesh as he adjusts his grip to secure me in place. He overwhelms all my senses. The scent of sweat. The close warmth. An urge to fling myself from the horse to escape the closeness begs me to oblige. But no. I must bear this, for Filip.

A horn howls from the castle as we reach the trees, the end notes falling flat. Leaves and low twigs whip my face, a sting hardly felt above the roar of wind popping my ears. The trees blur past, the intense speed rocking my stomach. I squeeze my eyes shut with no choice but to lean back against Kai's hardened chest.

"Focus on the sounds. Or scents. It won't be long now."

Earthy blades of grass tear up under the horse's hooves, expelling its coarse scent. Dry soil gasps for the rain, battered by the loud, clopping run. Sweat beads on the creature, wetting my fingertips. Its neck stretches with every gallop, lean muscles extending and pinging back like vines. A woman's scream. My dangling legs weaken, each thud into Kai a dull pain. I scratch the burn scars on my legs and peel my eyes open.

The meadow. Almost there. The horse chucks its head back as it picks up impossibly more speed, wiry mane brushing my pale fingers like straw to the ground. Groups gather in the lower levels of the field, and we slow to weave past them. Billowing smoke catches my breath, and I take a weary glance at the town.

A dark storm cloud meets the haze of grey smoke, looming above. The air writhes with anticipation as the cloud leans over the churning bath of flames; a flickering mass raging through the town. But the droplets refuse to fall, prolonging the agony of the helpless homes screaming beneath the turbulent sky. I scratch at my legs again, a futile attempt to calm my racing thoughts.

"CALEN." I catch sight of him, shepherding people to the sanctuary of green as buildings crumble behind him. Black soot lines his hands, smearing his face as he commands innocents to safety. In the authority of his voice, I calm with a selfish thought; he's in control, and so everyone I care about is safe.

Kai heeds my plea to go to him, and as soon as the horse stops, I jump down. Calen's face lights up in a gleaming smile, then freezes at the sight of the guard behind me. I grab his shoulders and force his attention back to me. "Where's Finn?"

"Dad's fine. I got him out to the meadow just as the fires—"

"And Filip?" The colour drains from his face, lips hastening to a powdery white. There's no time to question further.

"Red. WAIT." I can't tell if Kai or Calen call me, but the puddling tears heed neither as I sprint towards the orphanage. Herds block my path, desperate escapees fleeing to the fields. I break free, hurtling like an arrow through them. The dense air thickens to a smog, and though the stretches of path are free of bodies, pushing through the blackened air is a tougher challenge.

A familiar voice pierces the air, and the wind whisks away the thick veil of smoke. The haze clears on my approach. A sight that fills my heart with a mix of relief and trepidation: Mama. She stands before me with a weathered face. The deep lines etched on her forehead and around her eyes, like the parched furrows of a well-trodden field, tell a story I refuse to hear. Her roughened hands hang by her sides, a picture of resignation and exhaustion. Our eyes lock, and a jolt of emotions bleeds through me. I don't want to hear the words her lips crack to utter. "Red." She chokes out, spluttering spit over my face. The breathable air thins, and I huff to catch my breath. "I tried. He went back for the dog."

I turn to the house, its wooden frame engulfed in a bitter inferno that knows only how to consume. Windows shatter from the heat's intensity, the roof creaking as it threatens to come crashing down. The frames spew flame and smoke into the air like an illness, kindling a roaring pulse within my veins. I scratch my legs. If there's no Filip, there's no me.

"STOP." A new voice. The King. Atop a pure, black stallion.

He snatches at the air I once stood in, and I dodge his grasp again as I leap over the flames shrouding the doorframe. A brutal heat crackles around me, pouring sweat through every pore of my body. The sensitive skin on my face burns from the mere strength of it, peeling in dry patches. Blinding tears batter me. I scream for Filip, but the flames singe the words to dust.

I make it to the stairs, crumbling wood shooting embers at my baking feet. This time, I scream my lungs empty of air, the inhale full of crisp soot and powder.

"Here." A choked cry. Back of the house.

Fire claws up my legs, and an urge to turn and run grips me. An impending tragedy. But the scars of a past fire, forgotten, cannot scar again. A plank falls from the ceiling, sparks splashing at my feet. I mask my face, finding it easier to breathe through my sleeve. Plumes of smoke loom above, pushing me down to my knees. Strangling me until dark bursts clutter my eyes. I crawl on my hands and knees, the charred limbs of dead children painful obstacles. If I don't keep climbing, Filip will be one of them. Even just to stroke his hair from his face before I go would be a kind embrace before death.

Fur. A limp bundle of fur. "Filip." I call his name, and in response, his clammy palm sticks to my face. I pull him close to shield him from the caving ceiling. We can do this.

With a final push of effort, I rise to a hunched stand and pull him to follow me. The fire has spread, and the way I entered is no longer a means to escape. Posts and walls block us, lit with a fire so strong I can see death's face. It's smile in victory. It hasn't won yet. There's a window to the right, and in my mind's eye I can see it, though black air covers it. "Hold the dog." I cough up the words. Filip bundles the dog into his arms, protecting its head with the crook of his elbow.

The entire building creaks, groaning of wood a tense warning. It cannot stand for much longer. I rip off my baggy shirt, wrap it around Filip before hoisting him into my arms, close to my chest. A war cry escapes my bleeding lips. Rolling with the might of a carriage, I charge at the wall, hoping it's either weak enough to bow or that my aim miraculously finds the window.

The wall.

It shatters at my barge, and we shoot out onto the hard, stone ground. A churning of time passes in my head, each second slipping from my lulled counting. The King looms above my face, tears cleaning the grime from lines in his flesh. Mama hugs Filip. Someone helps the dog to some water. A blushed, crimson cloak shields my bare chest, heavy enough to deter the howl of wind from marring my wounds.

Sweat drips over my thighs, stinging thin cuts on my legs. Exhaustion renders me dull; unable to lift even an arm. The orphanage roof collapses, splinters of wood flying with the steady sputters of rain: a saviour arrived too late for heroics.

"Filip." My voice bursts the deafness in my ears, and I pull myself to sit. Mama smooths the twitch in my cheek, Filip lying on her lap. The dog pants at his side, nuzzling his slack hand. Somehow, our image still resembles a family.

His eyes flutter open, breaths falling onto my hand as I stroke a tender lock of tainted hair from his face. Shock rips the words from his mouth, leaving it barren and wide. He stares at the building falling to tatters in front of him, crying as the flames fall to rain. The house is gone and all that's left is a smouldering shell.

Mama screams, throwing Filip's body onto me before I can return my attention to them. "DEMON." Her screech cracks the clouds, spurring the rain to burst in fuller buckets. The impact of his body slamming onto mine knocks the easing breath from my lungs.

I struggle to push him off, his entire body contorting and shaking, arms thrown and his head smashing repeatedly on mine. The taste of blood seeps into my mouth. I can't spit it out. Air gets caught in my chest. I can't move. Filip's body, a mere child, holds the strength of an army. Pinning me down.

The King rolls him off onto his side, pushing me behind him. "S—Stop him." My voice is a gasp, my nails dug into the dirt like an anchor to keep the strength within me. I try to claw towards him, to glimpse his body, but sheer terror fights against it. No. Demons don't exist. Filip is sick, and I have to help.

The King's fist tightens as he holds Filip's jerking head. His knuckles crack into the gravelly floor with loud crunches, oozing crimson rivulets of blood. But Filip's head continues to twitch, his entire body convulsing in violent, uncontrollable spasms. A helpless, thrashing puppet at the mercy of some unseen force. His eyes roll back, lids open just enough to show red strings of veins pulsing within the white. Froth and foam flies from his mouth, gurgling the choking sounds gulping deep within his throat.

A unit of guards approach, headed by Feath. They freeze at the sight before them, water buckets abandoned to the floor, sloshing over their feet. A thought clicks into my head. "He's poisoned." A whisper, for the buzzing running through drowns the power from my voice. "Bring water."

"No." The King shakes his head, face flushing from the force of Filip's tiny body.

"Move." I bark at the guards, and they obey. A drop of water lies within one rolling bucket. I snatch it up and hurry to Filip, a pain throbbing in my chest as I kneel by his shivering body.

"NO." The King's voice ramps up the fear within me, and I drop the bucket. "Not poison. Help me keep him on his side."

Kai kneels beside the King, gripping onto Filip's feet with quaking breaths that rattle his chest. I shuffle beside him, my hands hovering over his body. I can't. This isn't Filip. I want to run, to escape whatever creature has taken over his body. But I'm rooted. Filip is no more.

He writhes on the floor, and I can't bear to look at his face as the King wipes the foam away. Kai leans his entire body weight into Filip's back, keeping him as firmly on his side as possible, while the King tends to the protection of his delicate head. No one breathes, and the gurgling from Filip's throat breaks the hammering pelt of rain.

"He's not in pain. Help me hold him strong." The King's eyes glisten. He nods as I edge my hand onto Filip's flailing arm. He throws it up, but I hold it down, suppressing whatever urges his body force him to display. "That's it. Now hold on tight. Don't let him turn."

I obey. For a few more minutes, we hold our position. The onslaught of rain dilutes the foam in Filip's mouth, and inside I can see his tongue thrashing like a shark against his teeth. Then the shaking weakens. Subsides. The fire dies, and the burnt wooden smell blends with the pleasant freshness of the rain. Black clouds above lighten to a dull grey. The panic reignites within again, and Mama's crazed wailing stokes it. Demons can't exist. "What's happening to him?"

"A take hold. Seizure. Now listen to me," his words drag my attention from Filip, now snoring as if in contented sleep, "Filip needs you. Do not be frightened of him. When he wakes, he will not recognise you, where he is or remember anything that has just happened. Do not panic or stress him."

I seal my lips tight, allowing a simple nod. This man, crown tilted on his darkened hair, pleads with eyes so wide and innocent, that even my fire tames. Every voice in the Kingdom would scream at me not to, but I can't help it: I trust him.

Filip's eyes squint open. The heart within his chest beats hard against his ribs, jutting them out towards the sky. The veins in his throat vibrate. My Filip. I open my mouth to speak, but the King holds his hand out for silence. The murmuring guards tighten their lips. "Filip?"

The King speaks softly, but his baritone voice still penetrates the tension with undeniable authority. Filip doesn't stir at the call of his name. Recognition of it erased. Ersa was correct, names are no more than ease of reference; no more than terms given to differentiate one from another. Filip's tender eyes glare at the smoking mass behind me.

"Would you like to sit up?" The King offers, and Filip nods at the suggestion. Both Kai and the King ease him up to rest, using Kai's knee as a support for his weak back.

Minutes weep by in utter silence, broken only by the occasional question from the King. To most of them, Filip's eyes answer with a blank stare. The King turns to me, "Do you know who this lady is, Filip?"

Filip's eyes narrow. Never has he ever looked at me in such a manner. Such confusion. The careful sweeps he makes with his eyes as he searches me worms hope into my heart. From my frazzled hair to the red robe draping me. He would never forget me.

Filip shakes his head. I sniffle, the small smile on my face rips into one broader and more painful to my cheeks. Kai lays a hand on my back. Pure agony rips the flesh in my heart, sharp jabs from a steel knife. Even when the pain eases, released by my silent, shivering sobs, the hole within me widens, bringing with it an ache that will last until death. I will never forget the look he gave me.

"Are you in pain, Filip?" The King loosens his grip on him, and Kai withdraws his knee. Filip sits on his own, rubbing his eyes as a crowd gathers. Townspeople checking the damage to their property. When they catch sight of Filip, dazed upon the floor, they stop to watch. All remember him for his talents, his cheery smile and politeness. I only hope they hold that version of Filip within their hearts, and not the shell he appears now.

"My neck hurts." Filip croaks, his voice a flicker in the wind. The King brushes Filip's hair with a light hand. He reaches a tender spot, a groan from Filip prompting him to check for damage.

"Do you know who this lady is, Filip?" The dull throb of life jumps within me, accelerating to a strong pounding. I look to the King, a silent wish for him to stop. Don't make me face this pain any longer. He doesn't remember me. The memories we've built together over the past few years are gone from his mind.

"Red." The confidence in his voice melts me into uncontrollable sobs. I wipe a burst of saliva from my mouth before I hug him, cradling him in my arms. My voice fails, and the best I can manage is a mouthed 'thank you' to the King. He bows his head.

"We're outside?" Filip's voice hums, and I smile into his shoulder as the King rises.

He turns to Mama, stood behind him with clasped hands. Eyes snow white. She snaps out of her trance as the King descends to her ear, face hardened with resolve as he whispers. With a glance at me, she nods firmly.

"You're alright now Filip." I comb his tangled hair, sandy strands blackened by dirt. Flecks of blood bead on individual strands, and I swipe each one away before he notices.

"What about Flower?"

"Flower?"

"The dog you got me. Mama gave him to me when I ran home. He was sniffing the flowers in the garden, so I named him Flower." Filip's flushed smile swells the hole in my heart, stitching it shut. I breathe a laugh.

"He's here." Kai smiles up at us from the dog's side, holding a drop of water in a barrel lid. Flower drinks from it deeply, then licks the lid dry.

"Red." The King calls me, a heavy droop in his brow. "We must take Filip to the castle." At his words, the crowd of townspeople murmur. Some of them are brave enough state their objections loud enough for him to hear. "He needs rest, and experienced eyes watching over him."

The desire in me to escape evaporates with the last wisps of smoke. The King is right, Filip is sick. He needs help. How can I escape, drag him into danger, when this illness may strike again? The reason he breathes now is due to the King's help. I nod and wipe a tear from my cheek.

We rise together, and I wrap an arm around Filip's shoulders as we walk to the horses. The King climbs atop his, gesturing for me to hand Filip over to him. I hesitate, and in that moment, Mama steps in front of us.

Her eyes search Filip, hands grazing his cheeks. Filip smiles warmly at her, one that she doesn't return, for a fit of tears weep from her eyes. She pulls him into a tight hug, holding his head on her shoulder.

The crowd observes, mouths agape as she hoists Filip onto the horse, seated in front of the King. Too stunned to protest further. An anger bubbles in their complaints, an anger I recognise once nestled within me. To their eyes, Filip is well, if a little dirty and scared from the fire. Many would believe this is a new tactic designed for the King to take our children—tending to the poorly on the pretence of caring for their well-being.

I want to explain, for the King in this situation is innocent. He has taken so many, inflicted unspeakable pain upon the Kingdom, and yet he saved Filip's life. Promises to watch over him. I shouldn't trust him, and yet the twinkle of light within his eyes gives him an almost human feel - a man beyond the crown.

Mama's embrace shakes me from the stupor of thoughts wrecking my head. The tear in my heart as they trot up to the castle. Misplaced trust here could prove fatal. "None can know what we have witnessed here, Mama. Do not tell a soul about Filip's condition." The words hit Mama's ears in cold breath, and I watch the bumps that form along her neck.

"I know. The King threatened me. Tell no one, or he'll have my head." Her whisper has a similar effect on me, tendrils of ice seeping through my body. "But is it our Filip? Has he truly awakened? Or a demon—"

"Demons don't exist, Mama." I snap at her, withdrawing from her embrace to grip her shoulders. "Filip is Filip, whether sick or not. Do not turn against him now. Do not let these childish thoughts into your head. Trust me, my wrath will be far more torturous than the King's, should I hear of any rumours spread from your lips."

She gulps. My grip on her shoulders withdraws a wince, but I cannot loosen them as I process the threat that fell so naturally from my lips. The castle has changed me. I am more than a thief, and yet exactly what, I do not yet know.

"Red." Kai approaches on horseback, extending his arm to me. "We must leave now." I release Mama, whose trembling frame stumbles away from me: her superior demeanour shattered. I inhale one last breath of troubled air, and peer around at the worried faces fixed on me.

"I will protect him. I promise." The only words of reassurance I can offer the people, taken by Filip's kind heart. A draught of reluctance passes my lips. The crowd responds with a motion that lightens the darkest depths of my heart.

One by one, they dip into intense bows that bend from the hips. Some sink to their knees, pressing their palms into the dirt in a gesture of utter gratitude; a show of sincere respect and apology that Mama once told me was brought here by the trade of slaves, long ago. A signal very rarely used. A symbol of regret and respect, intertwined in a message that cannot be ignored. A salute more powerful than any.

"Up. Everybody up, now." Feath barks, but the Kingdom stiffens into their bows. The guards around him begin yanking people up by their hair, knocking them into each other until they scatter in fear.

A chill of fear punctures the moment, washing over me with the remnants of the rain. The power bestowed upon me a curse, for now any beatings that come as a result of their actions are credited to me: the one they bow to. Kai lays his hand on my shoulder, eyes a bright red with welling tears. He blinks, and they fall to his puffy lips. "We have to go."