Heat of a Thousand Suns #2
The tenderness of it lands harder than it should. Not simply because I’m envious of their bond, but because I’m touched to see that the love of animals is something we share. He cares for his horse in a way not many do, and I feel the same for every creature here.
Orán picks up his shirt and pulls it on. “How did I do?” He comes to stand beside me, and together we survey our work.
Clean stalls.
Fed horses.
A quiet barn.
“Better than I thought.”
My arms ache pleasantly, and considering how much we got done, I know I’ll have some free time for training tomorrow since having his help opened up my schedule. Perhaps he’d be open to a friendly sparring match, and we can see how my skills fare against his.
“So good then, right? As in you’ll keep me around because I’m useful.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll keep you around for now.”
“And the rope?”
I spare it only a glance before I motion for him to follow me out of the barn, leaving it behind and hoping he doesn’t make me live to regret the decision.
I’ve barely reached the doorway when the ground beneath my feet shudders.
The jolt throws me forward. I catch myself on the doorframe, fingers biting into old wood as the house groans around us. Before I can find my balance, Orán is there—his hands firm on my hips, anchoring me in place.
It happens again.
A deeper tremor this time, rolling through the earth like something enormous shifting in its sleep.
“No. No. No. Not again.”
As if in defiance, the rumble returns.
Orán’s grip tightens reflexively.
A low murmur swells, rising from the ground itself, vibrating through miles of dirt, brick, and timber. It crawls up my spine. I brace against the doorframe, fingers digging into splintering wood as the shaking builds rather than fades.
Memory slams into me without mercy.
Stone corridors. Falling debris. Dust is choking the air.
My bare feet pound through endless monastery halls.
The nave rafters are collapsing. The ceiling is caving in as I run for the doorway to the underground tunnel.
The world splitting open above me, and the years afterward I spent locked away in the dark.
Not again.
From inside the house, Lila cries out. The sound of breaking glass follows, then the ugly grind of masonry tearing apart as a jagged crack snakes up the brick facade on the exterior wall.
My instinct is to run for her.
But heat blasts down from above in a sudden, unnatural wave, dragging my gaze upward.
The sky is red—bleeding.
Orange-red fire spreads across the sparse clouds, devouring the dark in widening veins of molten color.
The rumble has become a tearing roar, as if the atmosphere itself is being ripped open.
A massive surge slams into us—a heat-wrapped wind rushing through the trees, carrying the metallic bite of burnt pine.
Beside me, Orán inhales sharply. He points.
I follow his finger—and see it.
Through a break in the canopy above the house, an enormous sphere of fire rips across the tree line, low and fast, leaving the world aflame in its wake.
Orán swears under his breath in a language older than any I know.
Seconds later, the impact hits.
Not here, but close.
It’s jarring, and I nearly lose my footing. If it weren’t for Orán’s hold, I’d be on my knees in the dirt.
The shock wave ripples through the ground beneath our boots.
The earth buckles and rolls, and an arcing wall of light and compressed air slams through the woods with brutal force.
Trees bend, snap—some tear free entirely, roots ripping from the soil as they’re wrenched from the earth, dirt exploding upward in their wake.
Orán steps in front of me without thinking, his body a shield as fire blooms outward in a violent surge.
It races through the forest, leaping from tree to tree faster than my eyes can track.
At the far edge of the blast, a towering column of flame and smoke unfurls, churning skyward before billowing out in a widening, destructive swell.
The heat turns unbearable.
The black smoke—suffocating.
I drag my shirt over my face as embers rain through the canopy and whip around us. The forest is being swallowed whole, and godly act or not, there is nothing I can do to stop it.
Orán’s hand comes up, palm out. Power hums from him like an electric current, pressing against both my skin and my senses. For one terrible moment, I think he might unleash it fully—that Heaven might answer through him right here and fight back.
Instead, he creates a barrier around us, and for a moment, the heat is gone, even as it continues to burn the world around us.
Orán glances back, eyes lit with reflected flame and horror. “It’s a star—a fallen god,” he says. “And a sign.”
My stomach drops.
“Meaning?”
“The Starfall is happening. Meaning Judgment is now,” he says, voice tight. “But it’s much too soon.”
I stand frozen as the fire spreads this way, knowing it isn’t just coming for me.
It’s coming for my sanctuary.
My safe haven.
My work.
The lives I’ve saved.
Lila.
Orán.
“If it consumes this place,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “everything I’ve protected dies with it.”
His gaze snaps to the house—to Lila—then back to me. Whatever war lives inside him reaches a quiet decision, and turning fully, he places his hands on my shoulders, grounding, solid, divine, and human all at once. “Tell me who to save.”
“Lila,” I say immediately. “We need to get her out of here.”
He nods, already moving, pulling me with him. My feet follow before my mind catches up. There’s no time to think. No time to plan.
We run.
The front door bursts open before we reach it.
“What the hell is happening?” Lila stands in the doorway, terror carved across her face, the fire behind us reflected in her wide, panicked eyes.
“Come on, Lila—hurry.” I grab her wrist and yank her forward. “We need to get you out of here.”
She stumbles, trying to keep up as I drag her toward the stables. “Please—tell me what’s going on!”
“There’s no time!”
We rush into the barn, heat already bleeding through the walls. I go straight for a saddle—
“No.” Orán’s voice cuts through the chaos. He shakes his head once and moves to Nexus, guiding her forward. He leans in, whispers to her, and suddenly, she’s changing. Her saddle appears, her reins, her armor. All of it materializes as if called from nothing.
“Put her on Nexus,” he says. “She’ll get her to safety. And she’s faster.”
I bodily turn Lila and ignore her pleas to wait. I can’t.
She latches onto my arm and yanks me back, forcing me to face her. “Come with me. Don’t send me off alone.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I have to save as many of the animals as I can.”
Understanding crashes over her features, chased quickly by regret, then fear. “Don’t die,” she says, voice cracking with emotion. “Save who you can—but get the hell out before it reaches the house.”
I nod quickly. “I will.”
Doubt flickers across her face.
“Don’t risk yourself,” she says, her tone hardening. “If it comes down to you or them, choose you.”
Orán takes over. He lifts Lila onto Nexus and guides them out of the stable.
I follow with Enoch and watch as he hisses harshly to his steed in another language and slaps his hand against Nexus's flank.
She launches forward. I copy his motions and do the same to Enoch, sending him off in the same direction.
“Vos Kelis!” he shouts after Nexus, his voice cutting through the chaos.