Bastiel
"I gasped for breath as if I had been submerged in water. The air was different here—cool, fresh, untainted by the violence we had just fled. I looked around, my heart pounding wildly, but all I saw was the wilderness—an endless stretch of trees, their towering forms whispering ancient secrets I couldn't begin to understand. The house, my parents, the screams—all of it felt like a lifetime ago. It was as if the world had collapsed on itself and rebuilt in some distant place where we no longer belonged."
The world around them felt wrong.
The air in the forest was cold and damp, filled with the scent of pine and earth, but to the Zakharov siblings, it felt suffocating. The hum of the teleportation spell still lingered in their ears, a cruel reminder of what they had left behind.
Bastiel was the first to stir, his body trembling as he pushed himself to his knees. His palms burned, the deep scars from the spell etched into his flesh, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.
"Mama…" he whispered hoarsely, staring down at the pouch in his hands.
Beside him, Nerys was sprawled on the ground, her face pale and her breathing shallow. Zorion lay a few feet away, his body eerily still. The younger ones were huddled together—Orin clutching Amara, and Ayla gripping Draegon's arm like a lifeline.
It was Draegon who broke the silence. "They're gone," he said, his voice hollow. His red-rimmed eyes stared into the distance, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "Mama and Papa… they're gone."
"No…" Ayla shook her head violently, her green eyes wide with disbelief. "They can't be. They're coming back. They promised…"
"They lied!" Draegon snapped, his voice cracking. "They're not coming back, Ayla! Don't you get it?"
"Stop it!" Bastiel's voice thundered, startling them all. He clutched the pouch against his chest, his scarred hands trembling. "This isn't helping."
"But he's right," Zorion muttered weakly, his voice barely audible. He had managed to sit up, though his head hung low. "They're gone. They… they stayed behind so we could…" His voice broke, and he couldn't finish.
Orin, the youngest, whimpered as tears streamed down his face. "I want Mama," he whispered, burying his face in Amara's shoulder.
Amara, silent until now, tightened her hold on her twin. Her lips trembled, but she forced herself to stay strong for him. "I want her too," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nerys finally stirred, her hand weakly reaching out. "Bastiel…" she croaked, her eyes fluttering open. "What… happened?"
Bastiel knelt beside her, his heart aching at her frailty. "We're safe," he said, though the words felt like a lie. "We're alive."
"But they're not," Nerys whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. She tried to sit up, but her strength failed her, and Bastiel caught her before she could fall.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sounds were the faint rustling of the forest and the muffled sobs of the younger siblings.
"They saved us," Draegon said finally, his voice quieter now but no less pained. "Papa… he fought for us. Mama… she…" He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "They died for us. We can't waste it."
Ayla looked at him, her eyes filled with both anger and sorrow. "And what do we do now, Draegon? Huh? How do we fix this?"
"We don't," Bastiel said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He stood, cradling the pouch in his hands. "We survive. We protect each other. That's what they wanted."
Zorion nodded slowly, though his shoulders still sagged with grief. "He's right. We can't fall apart now. Not after what they gave up for us."
Orin sniffled, looking up at Bastiel with wide, tearful eyes. "Will we ever see them again?"
Bastiel's throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't answer. Finally, he crouched down, placing a gentle hand on Orin's shoulder. "They'll always be with us, Orin. Here." He tapped his chest. "In our hearts."
Amara wiped her tears away, her small hands trembling. "What do we do now?"
Bastiel looked around at his siblings—at their tear-streaked faces, their trembling forms. Despite the ache in his chest, he straightened his shoulders, determination hardening his features.
"We stay together," he said firmly. "No matter what."
The siblings nodded, their grief binding them closer. They were all they had left now, and they would fight to protect that—no matter the cost.