Page 61 of A Rising Hope

But I stayed quiet.

His infatuation with you soon shall pass. The thought sounded again and again in my mind, like a whip lashing at me.Destroyers are attracted to equal power, and you have none. Heis no match for you.You are not worthy of him. Another voice snickered in my head.You give in now, but he’ll leaveyou broken-hearted when he comes to his senses. And even if he doesn’t leave you, one day he will realize the grave mistake of his affections towards a weakling and then loathe you for ruining eternity for him, of robbing him of the greatness he was destined for.

So I stayed quiet, my nails cutting into my hand, breaking the skin, as reason and feelings tore through me.

Orest scoffed at my silence, releasing his hold on me. Without a word, he marched away into the

night.

This time, I didn’t stop him.

43

FINNLEAH

Iclosed the door behind me. The rusty hinges creaked loudly in my wake, signaling my departure to the entire village despite my best efforts at staying silent. I flinched, freezing in my step for a second, waiting for the storm of swear words to pour over me. But Priya stayed asleep as if she were dead. Not a huff, not even a breath out of order. She slept so calmly that I checked on her every few minutes to ensure her chest still rose. It did. Every time. And yet it still didn’t stop me from placing my hand under her nose to ensure the air was still flowing. After hours had passed, I finally had enough of dealing with my worrisome heart, sneaking away from the small cottage.

I took a step outside.

The previously beautiful Dragon’s Island village was broken and destroyed. Moss-covered straw roofs were torn to shreds, fences ripped out of the ground, trees cleaved down their middle. There were no lights flickering in the broken windows, no hushed whispers of teens sneaking around at night. No, instead, a previously harmless and peaceful village was covered in scattered carcasses of dead creatures. Blooming flowers and young grass covered in tar-like blood, wilting underneath it.

I took a step closer to the creature on the right of me. I knew it was dead, but I still found myself reaching for Heart Piercer, hastily tucked into the seam of my pants. My muscles ached, bones sore, fingers slightly swollen and palms shredded from the fighting earlier, but I didn’t care as I stabbed the creature’s empty eye sockets. Once, then twice, then thrice. Sticky black blood slowly trickled down its face, dripping into the grass by my boots. My legs barely moved, each step exhausting me more and more until I’d fall, no longer able to keep walking. I was exhausted. Even my fire, gradually replenishing within me, stayed quiet and calm. My thoughts tucked far away as I walked from one creature to another, stabbing their bodies, ripping their wings.

There were so many of them.

But I’d get to them all.

One by one, I struck them under the cover of night. A useless task, I knew that. I stabbed one more, my body protesting with each motion, but I pushed through any reason.

I had to keep moving. I had to keep going.

All the residents stayed in the caves below, not willing to risk coming back just yet. And there wasn’t much to come back to. Their little haven destroyed.

In the morning, the creatures would burn, their bodies would be gone, tar-like blood dried and turned to ash. Overtime, homes would be restored. Roofs, doors, hinges would all be replaced.

But that feeling of peace and safety that they had here before would never come back. A little place of paradise Gideon spent years building, now tarnished and violated.

My heart broke at that. I twisted the dagger tighter into the dead carcass of the creature.

A silver streak ran down my face.

“Oh, fuck off,” I angrily mumbled to myself, whipping away the treacherous drop. But tears only poured harder. I groaned,stabbing a few more creatures near me, but the harder I worked, the more I cried.

I had cried as despair choked me.

And for once, I was no longer sure I could continue. That I could withstand another death, another soul-wrenching cry of a mother burying her child. My body, my mind, my soul, were so exhausted. Another day and I would surely crumble into nothingness.

I had hoped . . . I knew the world would continue somehow.

And yet I wasn’t sure if I could. If I could continue carrying the burden that had been placed upon me.

The weight of the world suffocated me entirely, as if I felt each cry, each soul begging for mercy, for justice. For a reprieve.

And I found myself completely helpless. Absolutely useless.

Unable to soothe their wounded hearts and their shattered spirits.

I was ready to sacrifice myself and yet even then it was not enough to end the suffering, to ease their afflictions.

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