"Aye, come on!"
Elena's voice rang into the nothing.
Back in the dark again.
The void. That endless place between life and death. Between body and spirit.
She floated, weightless.
She looked down and stopped breathing.
Her hands.
Charred black. Twisted and skeletal, skin shriveled back to reveal the glint of bone. Blood hissed and steamed as it drifted from open wounds, floating like macabre stars in the empty abyss.
She flexed her fingers.
Agony.
Unforgiving, searing pain lanced up her arms, her spine, into her very heart, making her scream. A raw, wounded cry swallowed by the dark.
Elena had floated here many times.
She had felt wounds before.
But never like this.
This wasn't injury. This was punishment. This was a curse.
A curse on her soul.
She dropped her arms, shaking. Blood pooled around her in glistening droplets. "How do I get out this time?" she whispered, voice cracking. Her words disappeared into the void.
No answer.
She tried making a sigil but only got more pain in her body.
She curled into herself, tucking her ruined arms to her chest. Her body shuddered, it feels so broken. Her tears joined the blood in the air, thick and crimson, trailing slowly down her cheeks.
"Niegal," she murmured, pressing a kiss to the wedding band on her ruined finger. "I'll find my way back to you. And Esperanza. I promise"
"I'll find a way."
A soft cry pierced the silence.
A baby's wail.
Elena's head jerked up, eyes wide.
In the distance, shimmering just beyond reach, a baby's face appeared, glowing and smiling. Tiny hands reached for her.
"El… Esperanza?"
She reached out- desperate, aching,
Gone.
The baby's image vanished like mist. Elena choked out a laugh, wild and unhinged, tears spilling. It was all she had left.
Eventually, her body curled once more into the darkness. Sleep took her.
Or at least… something close to it.
And then:
silence.
Niegal was a man possessed.
By grief.
By guilt.
By love.
Esperanza rarely left his side. She joined him at war councils, nestled in a sling against his chest. The only place he felt she was truly safe. He wouldn't let Aurora take her. Not the Behike. No one.
His world had narrowed to one purpose: keep his daughter safe. Find a way to bring Elena back.
He poured over maps, battle plans, ancient hex-breaking scrolls. He slept in shifts of minutes. He planned retaliation with ruthless precision, no longer bound by diplomacy or mercy. The right way had failed them.
Each time he changed Esperanza, each time her tiny fingers clutched at his cloak or she fell asleep on his chest, he whispered:
"I'll fix this. For her. For us."
Sometimes, in the dead of night, he heard the wind call to him.
I'll find a way.
He shook his head, refusing to believe it.
Was the grief driving him mad?
Commanders said nothing when Niegal flinched at passing shadows, eyes briefly alight with hope before going dark again.
Only Esperanza kept him grounded.
The living proof of what he and Elena had made together.
His hope.
The people moved through the days in a muted haze.
La Doña Guabancex sacrificed herself to protect the innocent and her child.
El Léon Negro was a shell of the man.
The lion was lost without his storm.
Fear clung to them like ash. Even whispers felt too loud.
Aurora, meanwhile, could barely look at the people she was supposed to lead.
She had kept Esperanza safe, yes… but had watched helplessly as Elena burned before her.
Her soul ached with guilt.
So much so that even the stronghearted Behike couldn't leave her alone.
They sat in silence in the infirmary tent, the Behike's glowing hands over Aurora's chest, trying to ease the tightness that never went away.
In her mind's eye, Elena was still there- smiling gently, flipping through a book, entertaining sick children with little sparks of magic.
Aurora hunched over.
And sobbed.