The Lonely Hill by the Ocean
With both wands tucked securely in her robes, Eira stepped cautiously out of the creaking cottage. Her wand lit with a soft Lumos, casting a pale glow across the rugged terrain. Cold night air swept across her face, carrying the scent of salt and wild pine. As she emerged fully from the barn-like structure, she found herself standing atop a high hill that overlooked the sea.
The moon hung low and full above the endless ocean. Its silver light stretched far across the water, touching the distant horizon. Behind her loomed a dense, silent forest, its branches whispering in the wind. Around her—nothing. No homes, no roads, no signs of human presence. Just an expanse of wilderness and the sound of crashing waves.
Eira stood for a long moment, taking it in. Then, with a tired sigh, she dropped onto a rock and gazed at the ocean. The moonlight painted her face as she wrapped her arms around her knees and sank deep into thought.
Everything had changed. Everything.
Ana's betrayal echoed in her mind—the memory of being handed over like some stolen trinket. Her so-called friend, someone she'd trusted, had delivered her to monsters. Sold her. Left her.
"How could she?" Eira whispered to the wind. "How could any woman give a child to men like them?"
She blinked back the heat in her eyes, swallowing the rising lump in her throat.
Inside the barn, those men were still frozen. She thought of the things she'd heard them say as they led her here—the casual cruelty in their voices, the sickening stories they told. Boasting of things done to helpless girls, muggle children, young witches.
They were filth.
Eira clenched her fists. Her jaw trembled as she thought: If I hadn't escaped… Merlin, what would they have done?
She stood, steeling herself. Then, slowly, she walked back into the barn.
The two men were just as she'd left them—frozen stiff in their final expressions of surprise and horror. Eira stood before them, staring in silence.
Then a thought came. A dark one.
Should I end this? Here and now?
Her breath hitched.
Who was she to take life? What right did she have? She was just a child… wasn't she?
Her heart wavered. She hesitated, torn between justice and guilt. Her fingers trembled on the wand, and her throat tightened with uncertainty.
Then she did something to make herself and her thoughts calm and rational .
She closed her eyes—and activated her Occlumency.
The emotional storm within her dulled. Her mind sharpened. She felt cold clarity settle over her like a cloak. The noise of doubt, of fear, faded into the distance.
She opened her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was emotionless.
"If I let them live," she murmured, "then I betray every girl they ever hurt. Every child they destroyed. If I walk away, I allow this to happen again. And that… I cannot do."
With a flick of her wand, she levitated the tall man's frozen body and floated it beside the short one. Then, walking across the barn, she summoned all the scattered hay into a single mound beneath them.
She took a moment to look at their faces. Frozen forever in surprise. Unaware of their fate.
"Don't resent me," she said quietly. "I'm not doing this for myself. I'm doing it for the ones you left broken. This won't bring them peace. But maybe, just maybe, it'll stop someone else from being next."
"I don't see myself as a judge or a hero — I'm still searching for why I'm even here. But one thing is certain: I despise seeing innocent women and girls hurt, abused, or treated like objects under the weight of your oppression. That alone gives me authority over your filthy lives."
She raised her wand.
Incendio.
Flames burst from the hay with a sudden roar, licking up the sides of the barn. The fire spread fast, greedy for wood, air, and justice. The figures of the men began to blacken as smoke poured from the roof.
Eira stepped out into the open night and watched as the entire structure was consumed by fire. The wind carried the scent of burning wood—and something darker—through the trees.
She stood there, eyes fixed on the inferno.
And then, the Occlumency wore off.
A wave of emotion hit her like a crashing tide. Her knees buckled. Her heart raced. Her entire body began to tremble.
Self-doubt.
Guilt.
Fear.
She'd taken lives.
She slapped herself across the cheek, trying to jolt her senses. "Get it together, Eira," she whispered harshly. "This isn't new to you. Death has followed you since the beginning."
Memories flooded in.
Her first life. Her mother's murder—stabbed by her drunken father right in front of her eyes. The way his hands had closed around her neck when she was trying to save her mother from bleeding to death and dying .
And this life—Maria White, the woman who gave her life to protect Eira from an ambush and fought bravely while her so called father run away like coward.
She clenched her jaw.
"No," she said, more firmly now. "I won't fall apart. I am not some little girl unfamiliar with death, and I shouldn't let emotions prevent me from doing the right things "
She took a long, steady breath, then called Occlumency back to the surface. Her mind cleared again, calm and emotionless.
One last glance at the burning barn.
Then she turned her back to the sea, to the fire, to the past.
And walked toward the forest.
She didn't know what direction would lead her back to civilization and to safety, to find someone who could help her . But she knew she had to try. Somewhere in that vast expanse of trees might lie a muggle road, a town, a village—some clue to where she was.
Her first priority was survival.