The Burning pt. VII
Little light shone through the window.
Having been wholly transformed by Elan's long occupancy, the room down the hall from Shelley's bedroom had long since lost any resemblance to her study. Leaning towers of neglected books sulked in corners and behind end-tables. The sofa-bed's sheets lay neatly made and undisturbed. The musty smells of books filled the dusty air of the room.
Upon the dresser, a withered rose lay. The leaves were shriveled, the stem shrunken, and the petals dried like ancient parchment. An eldritch glow, soft and pink, surrounded the rose for a moment. Then, a flash of light.
A tiny red flame danced on the end of one petal.
Slowly, the fire began to grow and soon the whole rose burned unconsumed. Then, the space around the rose distorted seeming to contract.
In a pulse of flame, the rose was rendered into ash in a moment.
The room darkened for a moment. Then, a small flame began to burn in the curtains beside the dresser, which slowly crept up the drapes towards the ceiling.
The entire room began to burn.