Hazren ran down the hill and turned towards the stables. Zorin would be there, he thought to himself. 

As he neared the stables, he saw the massive arched doorway completely consumed by the flames. 

Embers shot out and pierced his skin.

He stepped back and heard gallops. They were loud and fast, coming from his right. 

Hazren barely had time to look before a horse galloped out of the fire and slammed into his side. 

He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as his feet lifted off the ground.

Hazren, now lying on his side, groaned as he tried to move his body.

He could barely see, his vision cloudy.

His shoulder hurt, but not as much as the throbbing pain in his head. Then he felt the heat.

Hazren winced and forced his body back, but the fire was everywhere.

 It reached his face first.

“Fuck! No!” he screamed as he felt the flames touch his eye.

Hazren moved further back and saw the hose line along the stable fence. Without hesitation, he began violently tugging at the hose until the head reached him.

The steel top was burning hot and scorched Hazren’s hand as he fumbled it in his panic.

He screamed out in pain as he secured it in his hands and pushed down the lever.

Water burst out of the hose and soaked the ground around him. 

The fire subsided, and the dirt turned to mud around him as he lay back in it and looked up at the sky, catching his breath.