Ablaze in Passion

The flames were getting hotter and hotter; closer and closer. She turned from the cottage and fled, she heard cries, people were screaming for their loved ones. She was bumped and pushed as others ran from the small village. Turning to the sound of fear behind her; she saw firsthand the cause of the destruction. 3 men on horses were racing through town lanes; torches aflame in their hands, throwing them through windows of homes; trampling anything and anyone in their paths. Adrenaline rising she escaped through the side alley nearest her, rushing as quickly as her feet would allow her through the maze of wooden storage boxes that the few town stalls had placed away from the earlier bustling shopping crowds.

Emerging out the other side she was glad to see that no horsemen were in sight. Joining the flight of town’s people hastily making their ways into the dense surrounding forests, she began to relax; just a little. She turned back to see her village, ablaze in orange light, still hearing cries of pain. Wincing slightly at the sharp pain she felt slice through her heart she looked down to her hands, noticing that she still had the basket of flowers she had been out picking whilst disaster had been wrought. Holding the basket closer and tighter she looked back to the town. More horsemen were there now. The last few remaining people were running from the town, lost from her sight as they reached the darkness of the trees. She felt the one tear fall but did not let anymore follow. So this was how it was to be; she thought. Alone.

It had been 10 years since the village fire; no one knew who had been to blame as the horsemen had never revealed from whence they came. The village people had slowly as months and years passed come back. Graves lined the village hill, and one by one villagers would heartbreakingly find the name of a loved one carved into the wood of a cross. But no one ever found the body of the young 9 year old girl Bianca McAllister, daughter to Joy McAllister. Whether she had burnt beyond remains inside her home, or fled from the village never to return; no one knew. Her mother had been burnt severely, but found alive, unfortunately unrecognizable to all who had known her. She spent her time locked inside her house, mourning the loss of her child, only to be seen when she stepped out to replenish her cupboards. The people had grown used to it, and knew never to mention the fires around her.

Most just walked away when she ever approached, saving themselves from being in her company. But she didn’t mind in the least, her face was scarred and most people couldn’t help but stare when she was in close proximity. It was on a particular afternoon when she felt like she could finally smile again. She had just returned from the local stalls, after gathering her usual groceries; when she heard a knock at her front door. She didn’t answer it straight away, unlike most people would have; only because, no one had knocked at her front door for years, 10 to be exact. Coming to the conclusion that she must have been hearing things she busied herself with unpacking her baskets of fruits when the knock came again. She turned and placed the apples down in the wooden bowl and slowly pulled her veil back around her face, as she hadn’t yet removed it from being outside; and made her way to her front door. Opening it slightly she saw a young man standing there, looking around at the few people walking passed.

"Can I help you?" Joy asked him, not quite opening the door,
He spun around quickly, clearly thinking that she had not been intending to come to the door,
"I’m sorry to disturb you maam, but are you Joy McAllister?" he asked peering at her through the crack,
"I am, why do you ask?" she replied,
"I just returned to the village a few weeks ago, I haven’t been back here since the fires, I was wondering if I could speak to you about your daughter?" he said as he unconsciously rubbed his hands together to keep them warm,
"I don’t have a daughter," she replied, and made to close the door,
Quickly he reached his hand out and stopped it from clicking closed,
"Miss McAllister please, I know what you have been going through, please let me in I might be able to ease some of your pain,"

She stared at him, thinking about his words,
"You may come in, but only because it’s cold out," she replied and walked away from the door, not opening it wider to allow him entrance.
Hearing the door close behind him she made her way back towards her small kitchen, and returned to the task of unpacking her groceries. The young man had followed her and stood quietly, waiting for her to finish. The people in the village had spoken about how badly scarred her face and body were; but with her clothing and veil, he was unable to see.
"Are you going to just stand there Mr..." she began waiting for him to supply a name,
"Oh, Lawson, Xander Lawson,"
"I remember you, you were only a few years older than my Bianca," she replied more to herself rather than to Xander,
"Yes, you’re right of course, I never knew Bianca personally but I knew exactly who she was, she used to keep to herself, the other children never cared but I always thought it odd,"

"Bianca wasn’t odd Mr Lawson, she was just more unique then those brats who called her names; she was gifted in many things, and those other children used to tease her and never want to let her join in their games," she spat back at him, getting angry, "If you are here to speak ill of my daughter I suggest you leave now," she finished,
"No you have heard me incorrectly Miss McAllister, I did not mean odd in a way of insult, I am not here to speak ill of your daughter to be certain. I am here to put your mind at rest. Miss McAllister," he began, "Bianca is not dead, I heard the villagers talking about how everyone thinks she burnt in the fires; that her body would have turned to ash; but I saw her escape,"
Joy stopped in the middle of her kitchen. One hand held plums. Was this finally the beginning of the mean unjust jokes? Had people finally thought she had mourned long enough and thought it was time for her to move on, and thought the best way for it was to lie about her daughter?
"How dare you?" she whispered,
"Miss McAllister, I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you?" Xander responded,
Joy spun around and threw a plum at him, Xander ducked and turned as a small vase went crashing to the floor as the plum collided with it.

"Miss McAllister what are you doing?" he asked astounded,
"How dare you come here and tell me my daughter is alive! She died in the fires! She was too young to have survived!" she screamed at him,
"No Miss McAllister, please I saw her, I saw her run towards the forest, she stopped and turned and watched the village burn! I saw her with my very eyes, I was going to go to her but my own parents were dragging me along!"
"You would have been full of fear, you could have seen anyone. ANYONE, how could you possibly be sure it was my Bianca," she said to him as a sudden flicker of hope seeped into her soul.
"I don’t know Joy, I just know exactly what she looked like, I knew exactly how she used to wear her hair, and that day, she had a brown wicker basket full of flowers in her hands,"
Joy looked towards him, and the tears began to fall, a smile crept across her face finding itself in a place unknown. Her Bianca was alive.