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An ear-shattering scream reverberated around me, and the strain and soreness in my throat said it was mine. My brother held me tight to him, his strong arms like bars, his chest a wall of warmth, but it suffocated me.
Elves lamented and rocked their bodies on the ground. Hunched forward, the males beat at their heads with fists while the females pulled on their delicate ears and bared feeble fangs. Tears. Screaming. So much screaming.
I shrilled as loud as my throat would allow, shoving my brother away to crawl to her and my father.
My parents.
When I neared them, the water spread itself and formed a shield, slapping me and splashing itself at me a few times to warn me to stay back. I couldn’t. They were my parents and my element had to understand.
It couldn’t take them.
I bared my fangs, raising my hands and focusing to move the water, but it fought me, slapping me again.
“Let me near them!” I demanded, glaring past tears and heaving breaths.
I tried to step closer again, but it pushed me away and closed around my parents until I couldn’t see them anymore.
Cold fear sliced through me. A sob tore itself out as I tried to reach my hands out to stop the water one more time.
I had seen how the elements took their children and planted their flowers in the Soul Garden, but it couldn’t do it to my parents.
No, no, no, no—
“No! Stop! Go away!”
The water elongated, creating a long, thick spiral that spun slowly, the air around it chilling. It picked up its pace before it exploded, raining on us as it returned to the ground where it had originally come out from.
And they were gone.
I screamed when their bodies disappeared, baring my small fangs and reaching for my ears before hands gently held my wrists away. Anaria, my mother’s closest friend, looked at me with tears staining her pale cheeks.
She shook her head slowly, then pulled my sobbing figure into her arms. She leaned down, brushed her soft lips to my forehead and, with a shaky voice, whispered, “May the leaves of your life tree never turn brown.”
“No! No, Anaria, no! They can’tleaveme!” I wailed against her chest, fisting my palms and shaking my head.
“Kenia,” my brother murmured.
I pulled back to see him stepping closer to Anaria and me, Ayen close behind him. Both males looked at me through eyes glistening with unshed tears, rimmed red, jaws clenched.
My lips trembled. I shook my head, but Anaria held me even tighter.
“Let them rest well,” he whispered, gently wiping my tears with his thumbs. “Mourning will make their new existence miserable.”
A loud whine echoed in my throat, and I shook my head repeatedly. He quietened me, pulling my head to his chest and folding his strong arms around me. He smoothed back my hair, and only then did I notice the soft tremors in his limbs.
I held on to him tighter, closing my eyes when Anaria sniffled beside us.
“I’m sorry,” I choked, voice raw and thick.
He exhaled shakily and, still trembling, murmured, “So am I, little sister. So am I.”
But apologies wouldn’t change the day. Wouldn’t turn back time or ease the future. Peace and happiness had been there one moment only to blaze into destructive terror in the blink of an eye.
With our father gone, Faelyn would become one of the youngest Elders in Elf history.
And the worst thing was the lack of signs leading to the one who caused this devastation.
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