The Above

-Fourteen-

I watched it happen. Fire arched over charred wood, blazing wisps caressing her home. Ash tumbled from the gentle touch of the coruscating flames, the embers tinted in an orange hue that slowly dwindled as it fell. The pungent smell of smoke wafted through the air as heat mockingly kissed our faces.

I wanted to collapse. To fall on the ground and mourn. Mourn that everything I had ventured here for was gone; that she had somehow disappeared. Pylia, the only person I had trusted with every shattered fragment of my being. Pylia, the one who reached for me when I was grieving the loss of my father, who told me that his death wasn't my fault. Pylia, the one I would weep for joy upon the sight of, even if she held a blade to my throat.

But she was gone. That girl, the one I loved so dearly, was gone. Missing, searching for me, dead—I didn't know. I suppose it was too late, then. That Atlaster was dragging me from her abode with good intent. He knew that she wasn't here, that she couldn't be. I was the one overreacting, I was the one who could never be sensible. It was why I had been exiled, why I had managed to cause such damage to a faction that had shown me such extended mercy.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as we ran into the cover of an alleyway, pausing for breath. He looked at me, eyes that swirled like the sea inside of him boring into mine. He spoke no words, only glaring at me and panting heavily. I could feel something shifting on my wrist, like cool water trickling through my fingers. I looked down to see that the cuff he had used to hold us together had begun to melt; a sign of trust.

I gazed back at him as I was freed from his grasp. He only stared at me in anticipation, as if he was waiting to see what I'd do. I stayed. After a few moments of prolonged silence and acute eye contact, he spoke.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, his voice hoarse as his gaze flickered between me and what I had left behind. No, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream that word, to let the stars hear my pain, to let the world know that there was no way I could be okay. Yet I didn't want to tell him such a thing. To burden him with the notion that nothing was as it should be.

"Yeah," I said, though a crack in my voice betrayed how I truly felt. "Yeah, I'm alright." He didn't pry further and only nodded.

"It'll be over soon," he assured me. "We'll do what we can and go home. Alright?"

I pushed back tears and quietly responded, "Alright."

"Good," he breathed as his gaze finally strayed from mine. "Then we can continue."

"Where?" I questioned, brows furrowed as he peeked from the cover of the alley, as if checking to ensure no one was awaiting us.

"The hill, the one with the palace atop it. It's being entirely surrounded."

"What?" I exclaimed as I rushed to see what he was talking about. Just as he had claimed, soldiers flanked the bridges that led to the Advisory, slaughtering the guards that opposed them. It was an act of bloodlust fueled in rage for an undeserving faction. What was the point? I wondered, gasping as a girl stabbed the side of a protector. What was the reason for all of this destruction? "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Atlaster mumbled, his presence warm behind me, his head hovering over mine. "But I'm not so sure I want to find out."

"No," I said in shock as they surged ahead, rushing upwards to where the Queen resided. "No, we have to make sure the Queen is okay."

"I understand that, but we simply can't risk being trapped between fire and soldiers willing to kill anything in their path. We need to go, Eralyn. Please."

"Then go," I whispered after a pause, turning to face him. A desperate look was plastered across his face as he processed my words. "I'm sorry, but I can't abandon them. Not after everything they've done for me."