Patterns In The Void

For years, I have woken at night to the sensation of my feet burning. As if I were tied at the stake, my feet upon an emblazoned pyre. Narrator, the voice who simply narrates everything I do, will scream that “only saints and witches burn, and everyone knows which one you are.” He reminds me of some of the less moral things I’ve done in my life. Once, a long time ago, when I was five years old, another voice which sounded like a bell choir told me that I would die on the 11th of June, in the year 2025. Narrator says when the flames I feel at night reach my heart, I will die. The flames grow higher every time.

Nine days ago, I stayed at a house in Portland called Eridu. Other wizards live there, in fact, it’s one of the only houses I’ve ever encountered with a higher ratio of magical persons than non-magical. Nine days ago, I woke in the early hours of the morning to flames on the second story and smoke thick enough to slice with a steak knife. We ran downstairs and watched the house go up in flames. No candles had been left burning, though the fire department (who had, for some reason, taken 15 minutes to respond to the call) said that a candle was probably the cause of the fire.

My house burned to the ground this morning. The same fire department team fought the fire, even though The Honeypot was roughly ten miles from Eridu. Again, no candles, and they blamed a candle. When they recognized me and a friend who was staying over because they had lived at Eridu, I pointed out the strange coincidence of two connected houses burning down about a week from each other, both houses burning at the same exact time of day, and both having mysteriously unknown causes. I pointed out that it certainly looked like it wasn’t an accident, and I got ten seconds of the blankest stare I’ve ever seen on a human’s face.

Pictures after the cut.

The back porch, view from my room.

The back door.

This was my food pantry.

The kitchen table and tea shelf.

The freezer exploded in the flames, though that wasn’t the cause of the fire.

The front bedroom.

Kitchen counter and communal bread box.

My piano. The keys are now solid, immovable cubes of charcoal.

Outside news reports:

Firefighter injured in North Portland blaze

Updated: Candle to blame for North Portland house fire that displaced five, injured firefighter