"It's so dark in there," Israel said softly, his hand tightening around Elana's.
She could tell by his slanted, forward movements that he was peeking into the carriage.
"Oh, shut up and stop whining so much." Naina scoffed from the backseat, snuggling deeper into her corner.
"We've got to be on our way."
"Yes, Israel," Elana said gently, "The kind master Azael gave us a nice carriage to help us reach the mountains. We could at least be grateful instead of complaining."
Israel let out a small sigh, "Oh, alright."
Elana listened as he climbed into the carriage.
She turned her face to the castle.
Azael hadn't come to say goodbye.
Nor had she heard from Trisha.
How she wished she could trace back to where Azael had made their paths cross.
Israel tugged on her hand, and she climbed into the carriage beside him.
As the horse's hooves began to patter and the carriage rolled forward, Elana felt a pull— a stretch from the castle that would definitely draw her back to it.
**
Azael scoffed in his room, "It's better she left."
Dark silk sheets draped his bed, red trains falling at all four corners
His long black hair fanned across his pillow, pale skin a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding him.
He turned his head to the window, watching the familiar grey of his castle—the air no longer held her scent.
Closing his eyes, he breathed slowly, fists clutching lightly at the sheets—still trying to erase her face from his mind.
**
At the refugee mountains, a guard scoffed.
"False alarm, children. No soldiers are coming up here—this place is high profile."
Elana frowned, her expression tightening.
Though she couldn't see where he stood, she pointed anyway.
"Just because it's high profile doesn't mean you should be careless about the peace."
The soldier chuckled, "Head inside, kids. Find your folks. Leave the protecting to the big men."
Israel grabbed Elana's hand, his calmness softening her edge.
"Let's go in, Lana."
She nodded. But behind them, the soldier suddenly shouted.
"Hey! Where'd the carriage go?"
**
They entered a room scented with timber wood and faintly worn stockings.
"What family?" A gruff voice asked.
"Gringer." Naina replied sharply, "I'm Naina Gringer. That's Israel Gringer, my little brother."
Silence.
As Elana opened her mouth to speak her identity, Naina cut in, "She's the help. Not very useful, since she's blind."
Elana's heart twisted. Why did Naina always do this? Didn't she know how much those words hurt?
The man cleared his throat, "You are nobles and you will be treated as such within the refuge of Lumere city. I'm sorry, but…we lost your parents."
Naina screamed. Little Israel froze, clutching Elana's hand tighter. Elana wasn't sure if he understood what had just been said.
"Naina!" she whispered, reaching out, tears blurring her sightless eyes. Maybe if she could hold her, they could cry together—their grief merged as one.
Naina's sobs guided her. Elana knelt, finding Naina seated on the floor. Her familiar girlish scents filled Elana's senses as she pulled her close.
"What are we supposed to do without Papa and Mama?" Naina screamed.
Elana's tears fell freely. She drew Israel in their embrace, her heart breaking for him.
Poor Israel—if only he knew why they couldn't stop crying.
**
"Naina, are you still up?" Elana whispered.
Naina exhaled, annoyed. "What do you want?"
"I think we should raise more alarms about the enemy soldiers ascending the mountains. We shouldn't waste…"
"Oh, please. Elana." Naina snapped, her tongue still heavy with grief. Elana understood, but a lot more lives would be lost if they didn't act.
"You really think that crazy old castle doesn't have some nut loose in it?" Naina muttered. "Wasn't it you who was speaking to a ghost in an empty field? Nothing was real."
Elana rose. She now had a comfortable metal stick to move with, thanks to the officer.
"It's fine. I understand you're grieving. I'll convince the soldiers. You stay and rest."
She found her way to the door, slipping—hoping to get at least one soldier to listen.
**
The door clicked shut, leaving Naina alone with her thoughts.
She sat back, her heart heavy with jealousy that she preferred to call righteous anger.
Elana — selfless, perfect, beautiful. Why did some girls have to look better than others?
She wanted the ginger hair, though certainly not Elana's eyes, though.
Elana wouldn't be Miss Too-Goody-Shoes if she could see how beautiful she was.
It boiled her, such hypocrisy.
At least, as an heiress, she got everything: slaves, servants…Elana.
Maybe if Elana were gone, the world might feel better — less heavy, with someone else's perfection.
A sound from the balcony made her flinch and jump. Her hand flew to her chest, "Who's there?"
She crouched beneath the table. If it was something dangerous, at least it would see Israel first—then she could escape.
A familiar eerie voice followed, "Lady Elana, the count sent me to deliver an important message."
It was one of the red wendigos from the castle. Naina popped up.
"Yeah, go on. I'm listening," she said.
The creature looked around, its saggy pupils darting before settling back on her, "Where's Lady Elana?"
"She's trying to get some of the soldiers' attention," Naina replied quickly. "I'll tell her."
"Be sure to tell her this," the creature began reciting. "It is no longer safe in the city. The enemy soldiers will be here first thing tomorrow. I see them—they are close. My carriage is waiting behind the house you're residing in. Come down once it strikes midnight. By morning, you'll have gone far from the commotion."
Naina's lips curled into a sinister smile.
"We'll be sure to be there."
The minion left.
The perfect opportunity could be lying around anywhere, Naina mused as her head was pinned with ideas.
**
"I am going to lock you in prison," a soldier dressed in Lumere military uniform said firmly at Elana, who was desperately following him with her stick
"What could I possibly stand to gain from creating a rumor?" Elana raised her voice.
"It's not even a rumor; it's an emergency. You need to tell people to leave."
"How does a beautiful girl talk so much?" the soldier muttered, his voice low. Elana felt his tobacco breath on her face, his belt unclasping.
Dread settled in her stomach. She shook her head.
She had followed him mindlessly, not realizing he was still a stranger.
A man yelled from afar, distracting both of them.
The soldier turned—a bleeding guard was stumbling toward them, gurgling, "Enemy soldiers in camp. Enemy soldiers in camp."
Gunfire erupted.
The soldier grabbed Elana's hand. "Come on."
Elana had no choice. The soldiers had come faster than Azael said they would.
As the soldier dragged her into the building from which they'd come, she pleaded, bullets whistling outside.
"Please, take me to my siblings."
"Don't worry, they're evacuating all the nobles. They'll be out soon."
"I can't see," Elana yelled, her voice trembling, near tears.
"I can't call for them to see me when I can't even see them. They're all I have. Please."
"I'll lead you to the stairs. Nothing more," the soldier said, looking out for shots aimed their way.
"Thank you, good sir."
Elana found her way up the stairs, occasionally bumping into people evacuating in the opposite direction. She was slow but sure—Naina and Israel were scared and needed her.
She reached the third floor, counting the doors. Just one more door, to—
A bomb exploded downstairs, shaking the building. Smoke curled into her lungs. The air itself tasted like metal.
Elana fell but forced herself up, crawling to the door.
She pushed it open. The familiar scent of her lavender lotion in the air— but why was it so strong?
"Naina, Israel!" she screamed. "I'm here."
No response.
Elana stepped forward, waiting for Israel's warm hug to wrap around her shoulders.
Only silence. The shots outside drew closer.
"Where are you?" she whispered, trembling. She had to find them.
Elana stumbled out of the room again — into a world that was crumbling.