#fire cw

“I had time to run home and pack a bag and get to the beach where the boats were waiting,” said a member of Namaygoosisagagun First Nation (Collins). “We literally had minutes to get on the boats and flee before it took our town. “Once we left my house finally after packing what I could in a pack sack, the fire was right behind our place. We had to run to the beach and once we got there, it was only moments before the fire had jumped over the (train) track and was coming for us.”

it has since been confirmed that namaygoosisagagun first nation has completely burnt to the ground. if you would like to help the community navigate an ongoing crisis, i urge you to donate to the anishinabek nation 7th generation, a registered charity seeking to improve the lives of first nations people. donations are going directly to members of namaygoosisagagun first nation.

celene did it to appease the nobles so they didn't think she was too soft on the elves, also the briala and gaspard stuff (though not many, including lanaya, would know anything about those details). but maybe there's some that didn't particularly agree with it? who see it as an "outburst" and not very strategic or “playing the game” and a scary display. tho that might not be the majority.

it wasn't just elves who died, but humans who also lived in the poor district of halamshiral. but elves were the majority since elves are the biggest population in the city and outnumber the human nobility. but still, it wasn’t only elves. also nothing to say that dwarves and qunari could also live in halamshiral.

celene mentions that a few thousands died which is a lot of lives. halamshiral has a large elf population, but losing so many hurt them. they also lost long-standing buildings, homes, streets, etc. some of the streets and buildings are reminiscent of the dales, so history is also lost.

In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here I am.

The spoon which was melted scrapes against  the bowl which was melted also. No one else is around.

Where have they gone to, brother and sister, mother and father? Off along the shore, perhaps. Their clothes are still on the hangers,

their dishes piled beside the sink, which is beside the woodstove with its grate and sooty kettle,

every detail clear, tin cup and rippled mirror. The day is bright and songless,

the lake is blue, the forest watchful. In the east a bank of cloud  rises up silently like dark bread.

I can see the swirls in the oilcloth, I can see the flaws in the glass, those flares where the sun hits them.

I can’t see my own arms and legs or know if this is a trap or blessing, finding myself back here, where everything

in this house has long been over, kettle and mirror, spoon and bowl, including my own body,

including the body I had then, including the body I have now as I sit at this morning table, alone and happy,

bare child’s feet on the scorched floorboards (I can almost see) in my burning clothes, the thin green shorts