The door slammed shut behind them, the soldiers hauling her away, her aura extinguished under the weight of runes and shackles, her footsteps fading into muffled thuds down the hall.
The room fell silent except for Kiara's sobs, breaking like waves against stone—helpless, raw, a child's grief carving hollows in the air.
The servant rocked her gently, murmuring nonsense comforts, but Kiara fought, her small body wracked with shudders, her cries dissolving into hiccuping whimpers that twisted like knives in Silvia's chest.
Silvia stayed frozen in the dark, her teeth buried in her knuckles until blood welled between her fingers, the copper taste flooding her mouth.
Her body shook, every sob swallowed down, every scream silenced for the sake of survival. Her sister was gone.
And in that void, the world cracked open, leaving only ashes and the echo of a child's wail.
.
.
