The shockwave slamd into Mozrael, knocking her to the ground. The world seed to explode into flashes of white light and violent, twisting shadows. Aramith scread—an unearthly, gut-wrenching sound that cut through the air with the force of the blast.
Mozrael’s heart stopped. The scream echoed in her ears as she pushed herself up, disoriented. Aramith’s body was limp, his head under a pile of broken weapons. His form was crumpled like a ragdoll, and a thick silence filled the space where the chaos had just been.
Her hands trembled as she reached for him. She slid across the debris, her breath short, desperate. "Aramith?" she whispered, her voice trembling with sothing she couldn’t na.
He didn’t respond.
Mozrael’s chest constricted as her mind spun. Was he... gone? The scream felt like it had shattered sothing deep inside her, and now the weight of it crushed down on her, threatening to suffocate her.
She reached out, her fingers brushing against his head, the warmth of his skin a faint comfort in the midst of the storm. His body was sowhat cold, too cold. Her throat tightened.
This can’t be real. She couldn’t process it. She couldn’t lose him, not now, not like this. Not when they had so much to—
"No," Mozrael whispered, shaking her head violently as though the motion could wake him. She held him tighter, pressing his head into her lap. "Please... Aramith. Please, wake up."
Her voice cracked, a tear slipping from her eye, but it wasn’t just fear or panic that made her weep. It was sothing deeper—sothing she couldn’t face. A feeling she had never allowed herself to acknowledge. Was this it? Was this the end of their bond, everything?
Her eyes darted across the room, searching for the source of the arrow, and there stood Lia, her face pale, her hands covering her face in horror.
Mozrael’s heart twisted painfully. She had never seen Lia like this before—not in all the ti they’d known each other. The girl was shaking, her lips moving but no words ca out. It was clear, though—she knew. She knew what she had done. But that wasn’t what Mozrael saw. She saw an enemy, soone she hated to the core. In that instant, Mozrael’s thoughts were like that of a beast.
"Lia," Mozrael’s voice was hoarse, as though the words were too heavy to say. She lifted Aramith’s body gently, trying to find a way to move him, trying to shake the cold from his form, but her eyes remained on Lia.
Lia’s eyes were wide, her breath coming in short bursts. Her hands trembled as she looked between Aramith and Mozrael, her expression contorted with guilt, with disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing ca out.
"I didn’t an to—" Lia finally choked out, but her words were a re whisper.
Mozrael’s mind scread. She wanted to shout at her, to demand what she had done, but the anguish that cut through her heart left her too paralyzed to move. She just stared at Lia—her closest ally—and all she could feel was the raw, hollow emptiness.
Mozrael looked painfully at Aramith, her sadness and fear increasing with every mont.
Then she felt Lia’s hand on her shoulder.
Mozrael’s eyes narrowed, the warmth in them evaporating like a dying ember. She fixed her gaze on Lia, and it was as if the world around them ceased to exist. Her pupils, once full of empathy, now glead with a cold, unyielding light—disappointnt, betrayal, and a silent fury twisted within her. The corners of her lips twitched, not in anger but in sheer revulsion, as though the very sight of Lia stained the air between them.
The warmth of the room felt distant, the only thing in focus her unblinking stare, like a blade sharpened by years of sorrow and silent grief. Her brow furrowed with a deep, unsettling solemnity, and for the first ti, Lia could feel the weight of the girl’s gaze—a gaze that could freeze the blood in her veins. Every breath that passed between them felt like a dagger, her eyes telling a story of loss, of trust shattered.
Mozrael didn’t need to speak—her expression said everything. She had seen the destruction of the person she trusted most, and now, the one who was supposed to stand with her was the cause. The air was thick with the unspoken accusation, and in that mont, the bond they once shared seed irreparably broken.
She let go of Aramith and rose to her feet.
"This was your doing." Her pupils beca cat-like. Fangs were visible and claws appeared. She took one step forward and raised her hand calmly, about to slash at Lia.
One slash at that neck and blood would burst out. She wouldn’t survive, but Mozrael couldn’t bring her hand on her. She cald herself, dropping her hand quietly.
"GET...OUT!" She said through gritted teeth.
Lia looked at Mozrael, then at Aramith lying there, her heartbeat quickening. She didn’t know what to do. Her mind was blank, she tried to take a step forward.
"Take another step and I’ll kill you," Mozrael said coldly.
She wanted to explain to Mozrael, offer help, but that expression struck fear in her heart, making her unable to take a step forward., the world seed to slow down, the edges of her vision blurring. The sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out all else. It was a roaring rush, crashing through her skull, the blood pounding so fiercely it felt as if it might burst from her orifices. The rapid pulse seed to rge with her thoughts, a rhythmic, deafening noise that drowned out all reason. She could feel the blood pumping with every breath, suffocating her senses, as if the world around her was fading, leaving only the pounding in her head.
She took a faltering step back, her face crumpling as she turned to leave, running without looking back. She stumbled through the broken hall, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the truth of what had happened.
Mozrael’s chest tightened again. She couldn’t—she couldn’t let her run. She couldn’t let Lia escape the pain. But before she could make a move, the door slamd shut behind her, leaving nothing but the deafening silence of the aftermath.
Mozrael’s eyes fell back on Aramith. His body was motionless, and the only sound in the room was the faint rush of blood pounding in her ears.
Don’t leave , Aramith. Please don’t leave .
Her vision blurred, and for a mont, everything spun. She was losing him, and the realization crushed her more than the explosion ever could. She gathered him close, holding him as tightly as her shaking arms would allow. The tears fell freely now—silent, unstoppable.
Suddenly without warning, Aramith let out a scream.
As Aramith’s scream pierced the air, raw and primal, the force of it ripped through Mozrael’s chest, causing her to freeze. The sound was too much to bear—an agonizing, heart-wrenching cry that seed to tear the very fabric of her soul. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and without thinking, she released him, his body falling limply to the floor. The world around her seed to tilt, the edges of reality blurring into the roar of her heartbeat.
Her breathing quickened, panic rising in her throat, but underneath that was a surge of power, sothing dark and ancient that stirred deep within her. As she gazed down at Aramith’s lifeless form, a faint shimr of scales began to appear along her skin, spreading from her fingers up her arm, glowing with a ghostly light. The transformation was subtle, yet undeniable, as the scales began to pulse in rhythm with her rapid breaths. It was as if a part of her was awakening—sothing wild, sothing untad, and sothing she was far from ready to face. SHe knew this part of her was what increased her emotions, pushing them to the extre.
Just then, the door slamd open, and Gebreth rushed in, his eyes wide with panic as he took in the chaotic scene before him. Mozrael barely registered his presence, her gaze fixed on Aramith. Kneeling beside him, he quickly checked his pulse, his breath catching when he saw the extent of the injuries. "He’s alive," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "But just barely."
Mozrael’s heart clenched as she reached toward Aramith, her hands shaking. Desperation laced her voice as she whispered, "Please, you have to help him. I—I don’t know... Please, don’t let him die!" Tears stread down her face, but her eyes were wild, the transformation creeping further along her neck and jaw, sharp, pointed scales now gleaming against her pale skin. "I can’t lose him, not like this. Please..." she begged, her voice cracking as the fear and guilt overwheld her.
Gebreth, still kneeling by Aramith’s side, was silent for a mont. His eyes flickered between Mozrael and the young man he was trying to help. "Mozrael, calm down, he’ll be fine. But you need to stop this... You know it’s making you overreact, and if you don’t calm down, you’ll get worse. Lia told everything and I understand how you feel, but you should know you weren’t yourself when you acted that way." His voice was gentle but firm and Mozrael could only nod, her breath coming in erratic gasps as she fought to suppress the growing urge to transform fully. Hearing Lia’s na again made her anger start to rise, but he was right. This wasn’t her, and if she overdid things, she would regret it.
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