Chronicles of Flames

Ella heard the high-pitched scream which ended in a loud splash below. Startled, she opened her eyes and got distracted and the tall piling tsunami almost tumbled forward.

No, no, no, not Rouge...

She looked up, her spiritual eyes still receptive, and glared at the monstrous principality before her. He was smirking so evilly that Ella wished she could shove poop into that his proud, abysmal mouth.

She took a frantic glance around. All the angels were so preoccupied fighting off one demon or the other.
Even, Pagiel, Rouge's guardian was busy aiming and shooting arrows at super speed.
He seemed to sense too that something had gone wrong with his ward because he looked in the direction of her fall. But the demons were closing in and he had to fight.

Although dexterous and well armed, it was clear that the heavenly host were greatly outnumbered.

With holy rage boiling in her and with a roar of desperation, Ella shoved the mass of tsunami wave back with all the power in her. It crashed loud.
Some of the unclean mer-spirits, those who had been also at work, fueling the rise of the tsunami, were momentarily disoriented. On seeing the cause of the hullabaloo, the replacement sacrifice, Rouge Clatrava, bobbing up and and down in the water, they drew closer, clustering, wanting to be the one who would capture this sacrifice and present her personally to the lord Dagon. But the spiritual force field, although rapidly diminishing in strength due to her sinking faith, was still around her. They hissed in pain and backed off  after several failed attempts to grab her up close.

Ella saw it all.
What to do? What to do? What to do?
She panicked.

What she knew as the only possible solution was something she had never attempted before. It just came like an emergency flash of inspiration. What if it didn't work?
With a mustard seed faith, she cupped her hands and raised it.
A huge boat, entirely made of water, fashioned right before her eyes.

Then, she fisted her hand. It froze.

She would have been impressed by this new improvement/addition to her water-wielding ability, but there was no time to be impressed.

Concentrating on the task at hand, she willed her spiritual-night-vision gaze to spot Rouge in the raging waters below. Finally, she did. The waters were dunking the poor struggling girl over and over. Rouge obviously knew nothing about swimming.

"Lord Jesus, please, please please," was all Ella could mutter as she tried to repeatedly to use the ice vessel she had formed to scoop out the girl from the water.
If only Rouge would stop trashing and stay still for a bit.

Ella bent on her knees, tottering slightly over the edge, trying to concentrate.
Time was running out fast. Rouge was beginning to weaken.

"Oh, Lord Jesus, please save us, please..."
Ella was already shedding hot tears.
She was numb, oblivious to the hard pelts of rainfall that hit her skin like hail.

"Wait, daughter."

Ella almost cried out in relief.
At last! It was Him.
That was His voice again. Unmistakable. Calm. The Redeemer.

In this midst of this maddening and terrifying confusion, his voice was like a cool salve on a scalding burn.
He was here just as he had promised. He'd said He would never leave. He wasn't lying.
Replacing the fear, unearthly calm, especially given the circumstances, washed over Ella's heart.

"Just do as I say, my daughter. Follow my lead."

Ella took a deep breath in, waiting, even though it was hard and she knew her friend was most likely dying in that slowly-heating-up water—the lava had resumed their former course.