The Queen's Conquer

Chapter 59 : Gone with the Wind

Saudade • [saa-daydz]
A deep emotional state of melancholic longing or nostalgia for a person, place, or thing that is absent, long gone, or never really there.

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I gasp in a painful breath of air, practically bringing me back to life as my eyes snap open. Instinctively coughing out the debris that's lodged itself into my throat, I cautiously hone my gaze back into reality.

I've been thrown on my side, the world around me churning up dust through the glowy sunrise. When I bring my hands up to my face, I see them shake feverishly with their raw gashes from the silver box, and I'm awed and horrified all at once by what just occurred—what I just did that occurred. Scraps of wood have managed to stick themselves into parts of my skin, but when I finally look beyond my palms, I see that my injuries barely compare to the wreckage of others.

There is no cabin anymore. It has utterly blown itself to pieces, the larger portions blasted dozens of feet away and into the forest beyond. The rogues who were once within the structure have been mutilated by these parts, some even staked through their abdomens and other body regions, all thrown across the opening and beyond my line of focus.

I begin to hyperventilate violently as I rise onto my elbows in a sad attempt to gain my bearings, several different pieces of scrap clawing against my suit which is now ripped in too many places to count. The wounds mean nothing to me, though, as I disorientedly search through the rubble with my eyes for Samuel. For Max. For Xander. For any of them. Horrified that they might very well be in the same conditions as the rogues. I don't even care for the damn silver box anymore, not knowing where the hell it is now, anyways.

I finally move from my stomach onto my hands and knees, feeling just how badly bruised I'll be because of the blast. Splinters prick almost every open part of my flesh, every raw gash as I shift on top of the cabin's remains. But I barely notice it—not with the anguish consuming me.

My eyes eventually meet an unexpected pair. They glow worriedly with their amethyst hue, wholly locked on me. My sister crouches across the pile of debris, right where the fireplace once stood—now a pile of rocks—unmoved and unharmed. I stare back at her briefly with shock, and it takes me several heartbeats to acknowledge the faint outline of a transparent white shield surrounding her body.

It takes me even longer to realize the same sort of barrier encases me, too. And when my eyes finally turn away from her wide ones, I see where Max continues to lay, protected and alive by his own bubble. I find Samuel—Samuel, who's collapsed under a pile of rubble that's obstructed from crushing him by the same shield. And Xander right beside Serofina, sharing her obscure armored energy as she holds him in her arms.

"S-Serof-fina..." I gasp out. I'm in awe—complete and utter shock.

The female also seems to be lost for words as she desperately clutches onto Xander's body with her life. And I realize now—with how she'd acted around him in the span of the last ten minutes—that there's more to this story than I'm aware of.

That's impossible...This is all so impossible...

Something rustles from beyond the trees, distracting me from this strange scene. From the shadows of the timber, wolves emerge, all either sharing the scents of Phantomridge or Blacktooth—Alpha Reed's warriors.

I'm quick to get back on my feet, relaxing a little bit more knowing most of them are okay. In the crowd, Killian and Lilith appear at the front, not daring to come closer than where the majority of the wreckage ends.