The heat from the fire still pressed against their backs even from several metres away from the shop.
The flames had already devoured a good portion of the structure. The windows spat out columns of orange fire and black smoke while the roof began creaking in a deeply concerning way.
Max watched the disaster with a strange mix of relief and exhaustion.
They had survived.
Which, considering how the night had started, already felt like a statistically improbable victory.
Dorian remained standing in front of the blaze, arms crossed and wearing a curiously satisfied expression.
He looked like he was admiring a particularly destructive piece of art.
Seraphine was awake again, though still somewhat weak, leaning against a nearby wall while Neros stood beside her like a personal bodyguard.
Chloe adjusted Max's cloak more comfortably around her body and looked at the elven healer.
Then she looked at the fire.
Then back at Dorian.
"…Scary," she murmured.
