He doesn't actually see the fire itself at first.

He notices the smoke, thick and foul and choking, coursing through his lungs well before he opens his eyes.

He notices the pressing heat against his skin the moment his feet touch the floor.

It's only once he races out of the bedroom that he sees flames licking up the walls, eating away at anything they can. The corner of a painting catches fire in the edge of his sight. It is gone before he can blink.

Running is difficult in the ash. The oxygen has been replaced by pure white heat and black refuse, sticking to the sweat coating his skin, to the inside of his lungs, getting in his eyes, God they were sore. He can't see ten feet in front of him, vision wavy and blurred through tears and heat. His bare feet grow more scalded every step he takes.

He screams for his family, someone, anyone. He gets screams in response.

His father is standing at the end of the balcony, calmly surveying the blaze. His eyes glow in the flickering light.

"P'T ZVYYF MVY AOPZ," he comments, and he turns, and it's not the fire making his eyes glow. They are yellow with a cat's eye pupil.

AOPZ PZ TL HZRPUN FVB AV YLJVUZPKLY. P RUVD FVB JHU," the thing says, and he can feel bile rise in his throat, because that is not his father. It is wrong and he hates it.

His eyes scrape when he blinks. They burn.

"FVB JHU OLHY TL. OLHY TL. FVB KVU'A OHCL TBJO SVUNLY, P'T AYFPUN AV OLSW." The speech is rough and grating and seems to scald his ears upon reaching them, but he's not listening anymore. Every breath is filled with smoke and fire and his eyes burn and there's a roar of the flame that's drowning out anything else. He presses his eyelids tight but somehow the pain gets worse, a piercing headache, it's hard to focus, it's hard to think at all it's agony please stop stop stop.

He cracks an eye and finds he is on the floor, flames creeping toward him, hungry. He is screaming. He can't stop.

And as the blaze overtakes the second floor, Artemis Fowl awakes, the last echoes of his scream still echoing around the cool, dark room.

Butler awoke to the sound of his charge screaming.

It wasn't the most pleasant thing to wake up to, and he would have dwelled on it more if he hadn't already ran down the hall to Artemis's door with his Sig Sauer drawn before any coherent thought could cross his mind.

He bashed the door with his shoulder blade, no time for doorknobs, and the wood gave way to...

Nothing. Artemis was panting, wide-eyed on the bed, but there was no one in the room but him.

He was quickly composing himself, though, and after a beat he looked up at Butler, panic evaporating and leaving behind a touch of embarrassment. Butler slowly lowered his handgun.

"What happened?" he spoke tersely, eyes still darting to every corner of the room.

The boy closed his eyes, took a few seconds to breathe, and opened them newly calm.

"Nothing, Butler," he said smoothly. "I apologize for waking you. I had a nightmare, that is all."

The words took a minute to sink in. Butler stared at his charge, first in confusion, then trying not to show his disbelief. Artemis did not get nightmares, and certainly not ones bad enough to wake up screaming in a cold sweat.

"Are you alright?" he asked, uncertain what to do but unwilling to leave.

Artemis scoffed. "Of course. It was only a dream, old friend," he said, and the manservant relaxed. Slightly. One was not paid to be relaxed, after all.

And yet.

Artemis was a skilled liar, but not a perfect one, and Butler had years of experience in reading his face. His eyes looked slightly glassy and unfocused, as though he had not quite woken up fully. As though he was halfway trapped in the nightmare.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Artemis did not respond for a few seconds. He stared at the blanket before answering quietly, "I am fine, Butler. I promise."

The manservant eyed his charge, brow furrowed.

"Okay," he responded slowly, "but if something's wrong, let me know."

He turned and stepped out of the room, still uneasy about leaving his charge alone. His soldier's sense buzzed slightly at the base of his skull.

Artemis stared down the corridor where Butler had left. It was dark, of course, as a corridor during nighttime was wont to be. There were no flames lining the carpet, no screams echoing down its walls. Everything was normal.

And yet.

He laid back down and stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply and slowly to bring himself to a meditative state. But despite the ritual, he could not quite bring himself to close his eyes. There was no telling what he would see next.

Perhaps he would stay awake for a little while longer.

Hello! I finished this late last night, so I figured I would publish it today rather than waiting another week for Sunday to roll around (and let's be honest there practically isn't a schedule on this thing anymore :')
On a similar note, I'm going to *try* to push myself to upload every other Sunday instead of every Sunday like I have... not been doing. My hope is that quarantine, while not exactly fun, can push me to write a bit more, so I'll try not to fall off the wagon again. At least I'm not trying to write this story while swamped with homework anymore (have I mentioned junior year sucks? Because junior year sucks).
See you guys next time!