The first thing Elysia felt was the weight pressing against her chest, the sluggishness in her limbs.
Her mind was caught between the haze of unconsciousness and the sharp sting of reality clawing its way back in. The scent of burning wood was gone, replaced with the musty, earthy scent of damp timber and fresh leaves.
She inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering open.
The ceiling above her was rough-hewn wood, the faint flicker of candlelight casting uneven shadows across its surface.
She turned her head, her vision still adjusting, her body sluggish from whatever Seraphina had done to knock her out.
Zera stood beside her, arms crossed, her stance rigid. The flickering candlelight made her sharp blue eyes gleam, but there was no warmth in them—only barely restrained frustration.
Her knuckles were white where she gripped the hilt of her sword, the tendons in her hands tight.
Elysia pushed herself up, blinking against the heavy fog still clouding her thoughts. The bed beneath her was rough, the blanket scratchy against her skin. This wasn't the castle.
This wasn't home.
"Where are we?" Her voice came out hoarse, dry.
Zera didn't answer.
The silence stretched between them like a chasm, thick with tension. Elysia's fingers curled into the blanket before she exhaled sharply, forcing herself to sit up fully.
"Why?" she demanded, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why didn't you let me fight?"
Zera's jaw clenched. She still didn't speak.
"We could have done something!" Elysia pressed, her hands curling into fists. "People were dying!"
Zera's eyes darkened, but before she could open her mouth, another voice cut through the heavy air.
"Stop talking nonsense."
Seraphina.
Elysia turned her head sharply, her breath still uneven, her body still tingling from whatever spell had forced her unconscious. Seraphina stood near the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable.
Elysia knew that look. It was the look Seraphina wore when she had already made up her mind.
Seraphina took a step forward, her heavy boots barely making a sound against the wooden floor. "Nobody could have beaten the Demon Queen."
Elysia opened her mouth, anger still burning at the edges of her thoughts, but Seraphina's next words were like a blade slicing through her pride.
"Not even me."
Silence.
Elysia stared at her, her frustration crashing against the weight of those words, struggling to claw its way back up. But she knew Seraphina wasn't lying.
Seraphina never lied.
Zera shifted beside her, breaking the tension with a sharp exhale. "She's right."
Elysia clenched her teeth, her hands tightening around the blanket.
The memories of the castle flooded back—her father's face, the sound of the explosion, the fire, the guards cut down in an instant, the screams.
Her stomach twisted.
She had been useless.
Her father had been right to send her away.
The thought felt like acid on her tongue.
Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a slow breath, swallowing down the bitterness that still sat at the back of her throat.
"I'm sorry." The words came out quieter than she expected.
Seraphina studied her for a long moment before nodding.
There was no 'it's alright.' No words of comfort. But that was how Seraphina was—blunt, honest.
Elysia let herself sink back against the mattress, rubbing her temples. Her body still ached from the forced sleep, her muscles stiff from the journey.
"What now?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Zera looked away, her fingers twitching slightly.
Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line.
They didn't know.
The kingdom was in flames. Her father…
She forced herself not to think about it.
And the Demon Queen—
Elysia swallowed, forcing her gaze toward the wooden ceiling, her thoughts a mess of grief, rage, and helplessness.
The Demon Queen wasn't finished.
She would come for her.
And this time, there would be no running.
Elysia sat upright again, the rough blanket pooling in her lap, her fingers twisting in the fabric as her mind struggled to process everything. The thick weight of exhaustion clung to her limbs, but she forced herself to focus, to think.
She looked at Seraphina, then at Zera. Their silence, their guarded expressions—it told her more than words ever could.
But she had to ask.
"The kingdom," she said, her voice careful, controlled. "What happened to it?"
Zera's shoulders tensed. Seraphina inhaled deeply before answering.
"It's gone."
Two words. Cold, final.
Elysia's breath caught in her throat.
Gone.
She shook her head slightly. "No—what do you mean gone?"
Seraphina met her gaze, unwavering. "I mean exactly that. The castle has fallen. The city is in ruins. Fires are still burning. Whatever survivors remain have fled or are in hiding. Arvandor is lost."
The weight of those words settled deep in Elysia's chest.
Her home.
Everything she had known, the halls she had walked since childhood, the banners that once hung proudly from the castle walls, the bustling streets filled with merchants, knights, and scholars—all of it, gone.
Her fingers clenched. "And my father?"
A beat of silence. Too long.
"We don't know," Zera finally admitted, her voice quieter than before.
Elysia's throat tightened.
She could still see him, standing in the throne room, sword drawn, telling her to forgive him.
She swallowed, pushing back the grief clawing at her ribs.
"What about the Demon Queen?"
Seraphina exhaled. "Still in the capital. She's won, and she knows it. She's making an example of what happens when people defy her."
Of course she was.
Malvoria hadn't just wanted victory—she had wanted destruction, a warning to anyone else who dared stand in her way.
Elysia pressed her palm against her forehead, breathing slowly through the storm of emotions raging inside her.
"We can't stay here," she said finally, forcing herself to think logically, to push aside the emotions threatening to break her apart. "She'll come looking for me."
Seraphina nodded. "We should leave before nightfall. We've already lingered too long."
Zera glanced at Elysia, concern flickering in her sharp blue eyes. "Are you strong enough to move?"
Elysia let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "Strong enough or not, we don't have a choice."
She pushed herself off the bed, her legs unsteady beneath her. Zera caught her arm instinctively, but Elysia waved her off, steadying herself.
She was not going to crumble.
Not now.
Not when she had already lost everything.