=Amara=
By the time I reached the northernmost structure, the heat hit me like a wall of living fire—thick, punishing, almost sentient. It slammed into my chest, stole half a breath before I could even brace myself, and left my lungs gasping for air as if the world had contracted around me. Every inhalation burned, every exhale tasted of smoke and ash.
The air was choking, heavy with the sharp, oily tang of burning timber and something else—grain, maybe, or oil from the lanterns that had fallen. The roar of the flames was deafening, swallowing the crackle of wood and the distant shouts from the outskirts. Even my own heartbeat sounded drowned beneath the inferno’s fury.
The roof was already beginning to sag inward, warped and weakened by the heat. Wooden beams groaned under the strain,
