Tales From a Thousand Worlds

Elad stepped out of the courtyard into the street beyond, looking either direction along it. The crowds were gone now, apart from a few who lay sprawled on the ground, trampled during the panicked stampede. The fires about his hand were flickering, dying out. The rage that sustained them was bleeding away. Elad concentrated, willing the fires back to life, feeding them with all the anger and bitterness he could muster from his soul, at the state of the world, of loss and regret and despair. Sweat beaded across his brow at the effort.

Follow this link for Part Seven of the Pit