Jamsmine Flamesworth
Watching the distant sky turn white would have been ominous even without the pressure. When it flashed pink, I pulled Camellia to my side, certain that something was about to happen. Black clouds rolled over the distant mountain range, then the ground began to quake beneath my feet.
Camellia gasped and pressed her face against me, her thin body shaking as a wall of mana hit us. The pure force of it was strong enough to knock the breath from my lungs. All I could do was hold her tight against me and watch.
Some of the refugee students from Xyrus joined us, as did a handful of the Greengate farmers. Even though they couldn't sense the mana, they could feel the incredible pressure squeezing their lungs like a fist.
The black cloud boiled over the foothills, filling the sky and obscuring the horizon. It was moving toward us with unbelievable speed, and yet no one moved. One of the villagers was shaking so bad they had to sit down in the dirt, but no one tried to run.
They could all tell there was no running from whatever this was.
Hurricane force winds slammed against our group, forcing even Durden to lean into it. I closed my eyes against the debris and focused on the sensation of Camellia's arms wrapped around me, the way she shook, the wetness of her tears seeping through my tunic.
Questions tumbled around in my head, coming and going too quickly for me to even try to answer them. My thoughts settled into a dull buzz, and I suddenly wanted to just sit down somewhere and have a stiff drink.
No.
Whatever this attack meant, whoever had initiated it, despite all the questions it raised, I knew one thing for sure. It meant everything had just changed. I couldn't imagine anything surviving such an overwhelming explosion of energy, and if it had come from Elenoir as I guessed, then it was possible the entire elven homeland had just been wiped off the face of Dicathen.
If the Alacryans had magic strong enough to wipe out an entire country, then all hope truly was lost…but I couldn't help the thought that this hadn't been them. They'd overtaken Elenoir. Why destroy it now? It didn't make any sense…
But if not them, then who? The Lances?
I shook my head as dirt and debris pelted my face. Even if they had that kind of power, the Lances wouldn't do this. No strike against the Alacryans was worth the millions of lives that had almost certainly been lost.
Then I felt the weight of it. Really felt it. The loss of life was incalculable.
I was holding in my arms one of the last elves in Dicathen.
I sank to my knees, bringing Camellia with me. She curled up in a ball, letting me support her entirely. Even if she didn't fully grasp what was happening, she must have felt it, deep down in her core somewhere. Her home was gone. Her people…
Helen was standing next to me, her hand caressing my hair. I couldn't remember the last time someone had done that.
The wind buffeted us for what felt like hours, but could only have been a few minutes. We didn't fight it, didn't run from it, just…stayed there—together—experiencing it, understanding that there had to be an end. I had no idea what the world looked like on the other side of this moment, though, and with the hope I had felt, there was now something else.
Fear.
It was easy, living like there was nothing left to lose.
That was what I hadn't understood when Helen and the Twin Horns went to fight. It felt like the world had already ended when we lost the war, but it was really only over for the dead.
Adam. Reynolds. Arthur…
The rest of us had a responsibility to those who had sacrificed everything. Dicathen was our home, and as long as a single Dicathian maintained the strength and will to fight, then the war was not over.
Resting my hand on Camellia's shoulder, I gave it a firm squeeze.
"I'm ready to fight back."