Help! I have trouble completing a story 😩

Fire everywhere—fire all around him, in the air and on his hands; fire leaping from the burning house and pouring out of every window. The roar was deafening, but he knew that it wasn't real. It couldn't be. He felt nothing more than a trickle of sweat as he watched the flames engulf the house.

The screams were still there. Screams of terror and pain intermingling with each other. A man's scream echoed loudly as the house collapsed to the ground. It sounded like the voice came from inside the house.
And then it stopped abruptly.

The next thing he heard was the sound of someone running through the grass nearby. Another scream followed soon after.

"What is this?" Breena said angrily at his ear, breaking into his thoughts. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? I'm not going to lose you too!"

He shook his head, trying to clear away the visions. "I know what to do."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," he muttered. "Come on."

She seemed unimpressed by his answer, but she didn't argue as they ran down the hillside together. He found himself thinking about the house again, though this time without any of the horror. Instead, he thought of an image of a young girl walking across the lawn with her mother.

They never made it inside…

Breena finally drew near to the edge of the village before looking back at him. Her blue eyes stared directly into his own with a level of intensity that he hadn't seen from her before.

"Do you really think you can beat the monster?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes. If I do, we'll have to figure something else out, right? But…we don't need to talk about it now. I just need you to stay close to me until we find a way out of here. Okay?"

She frowned slightly at the question. "Fine.

But I do want to know why you're so sure about this."

"Because I am."

Her frown deepened. "Why are you being so mysterious about it? You've always been so open with me."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. This is my secret."

"Your what?"

"My power. My gift, if you will. It's how I'm able to use magic. Sometimes I forget that most people don't have one."

"So, wait…you're saying that your magic has something to do with…with…being able to see things others don't?"

He looked up at the sky and shrugged his shoulders. "Something like that."

For a moment, Breena stood in silence as she considered all of this information. Then she turned away from him, clenching her fists tightly. "Well, fine! Whatever. Just get me out of here!"

She glanced back at him as she spoke. Her expression had softened a bit, but she still seemed nervous and a little angry. She blinked rapidly, clearing her eyes for a moment.

"Let's go," she said, turning forward again. "We need to hurry."

The two of them continued toward the center of town, where the largest amount of buildings could be found. They walked past several old wooden homes and shops, some of which had already caught fire or were currently burning.

"This isn't right," Breena muttered, staring at the flames. "Why would anyone live somewhere like this? Why do people even come to places like this?"

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "But…they do."

She shot him another annoyed look, but she kept walking.

After passing one of the larger wooden houses, they came to the center of town. The road here was wide enough for three wagons to travel side-by-side. There was a large market square in the middle of the village, with several huts selling foodstuffs and other goods. Several smaller streets led off from it in different directions, and the road itself was paved with gravel.

It was a peaceful scene, almost idyllic compared to the rest of the land. All the same, the massive black beast that they'd seen earlier was still lurking in the distance, watching them with its cold, dark gaze.
Breena looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in irritation. "Is that thing still watching us?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"Great," she muttered. "If we run into it while it's chasing us, you'd better hope that you can fight it."

"Me?" he asked, startled.

She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Just because you're a human doesn't mean that you can just use your magic to defeat monsters. Especially not a monster this big. If we find the sword, maybe it will be able to help. But…"

"But what?" he interrupted, feeling frustrated.

"Well, let's just say that you might die," Breena said bluntly. "And I won't be able to save you. So…don't make me choose between saving you and getting the sword back home safely."

He paused for a moment and opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again when he realized that he needed to think carefully about his answer.

He didn't have much time to do so, however, as the area around them suddenly filled with shouting voices. Everyone was pointing at something in the distance, and the noise grew louder as people began to run toward the source of the commotion.

"Oh no," Breena muttered under her breath. "Not again."

Frost pulled Breena down to the ground, making sure that she wouldn't get trampled by the stampede of villagers rushing to get away from whatever was happening. He looked at her face. "What's wrong?"

She pointed to the ground. "Look."

A single arrow was stuck in the dirt, right where they'd been standing just a few moments ago. Its tip was covered with blood.

"What's wrong now?" Breena grumbled, crawling over to him.

"Nothing," he lied. "Let's just keep moving."
She glared at him, but she didn't argue as they started to walk toward the source of the commotion again. Within moments, they reached the center of the marketplace. The entire crowd had gathered around something in the middle of the street. A woman wearing a white dress was kneeling on the ground, holding a small child in her arms.

The child was crying, but not very loudly. It was a boy, and Frost recognized him. He was the son of the innkeeper in the town square, the one who had helped them the night before. He was about five years old.
There were at least twenty other people surrounding the woman and the child, all of whom were speaking excitedly. Frost saw that many of them wore armor and carried swords.

"Are they attacking her?" he whispered.
"No," Breena said, shaking her head. "I don't think so. Look closely."

He did as she suggested, noting that the people weren't using their weapons against the woman—or anyone else. Most of them were just standing there, watching the scene with curiosity. One or two men had begun to approach her, but they kept glancing back at the crowd of onlookers.

"They seem concerned," he said.