Saul and Farah sat with mouths agape as the door swung shut behind Elara. They sat in silence as they heard a portal coming to life, and stayed silent until the sound of crackling magic had faded into silence, nothing more than a memory carried on the wind.
"Farah..." Saul began, and the mind fair groaned - she could feel a reprimand coming on. "She had a right to come with us."
Farah shot him a hard look. "You think I don't know that?" She sighed, running her hands over her face. Saul gave an empathetic smile, heart sinking as he saw how utterly exhausted his best friend looked - the light gone from her eyes, and the bags under them a light, bruised shade of purple. "I just... I can't lose her, Saul." Farah's face flickered with vulnerability, but she was quick to shake it off.
"Doesn't matter. She's safe now. Pissed, but safe, and I'd rather have her angry with me than dead." Farah's words seemed more to herself now, so Saul didn't reply, opting instead to cast his gaze around the room, mind constructing a plan to take on the blood witch now that their trio was down to a duo. That was when he realised...
Elara's enchanted dagger was missing.
"Farah - can you see Elara's dagger anywhere?" Saul asked cautiously, getting to his feet as he begin to search the room. Farah's brow furrowed as she jumped up, turning over pillows, pulling out drawers. The room was alive with the sound of scraping wood and hurried footsteps as the two futilely searched for what they finally concluded wasn't there.
"She probably just took it with her..." Farah murmured. "Just- just as a precaution..."
"Blood witch killing dagger is a pretty specific precaution, Farah. Besides, you know she has almost as many weapons on her person as you do on yours," Saul reasoned. Farah's stomach dropped, her jaw tightening.
"You- you don't think she-"
"Think she went to kill the thing you said she couldn't? That doesn't sound like her at all," Saul said sarcastically, but knocked it off at the horror on Farah's face.
"We need to find her. Now," she snapped, and Saul didn't dare to disagree. There were a million things on the tip of his tongue - they didn't have a plan, she might've just gone back to her suite and forgotten to leave the dagger here, there was no need to go rushing into this - but Elara was her daughter, and if there was even the slightest chance she was in danger, he knew neither of them could stand by and do nothing. And even if he wanted to stay, to think things through, Farah would never allow it.
"Let's go," Saul agreed. Saul grabbed a couple weapons, all but sprinting outside, hoping that they weren't too late.
—
"There! I can feel her magic!" Farah exclaimed, pointing to the house. Farah was already heading towards it.
"Dammit, Elara," she muttered. "Let's go."
Fully armed, the two kept to the shadows, careful to avoid streetlights as they meandered up the blood witch's winding driveway. When they saw the house, still glowing with candlelight, they split up - Farah headed to the front door as Saul approached the open window.
The metal door handle was ice under Farah's shaking hands. She took a deep breath, steadying her grip before slowly pushing the door open. If Elara was in trouble, she'd be no use to her as a frantic mess. And judging by her fading magic, all signals were hinting that she was in trouble.
"Farah?"
Saul's voice echoed from the living room, and the fairy readied her magic as she charged in, expecting to be met with a hostage situation... or worse.
Farah's heart stopped as she saw the two bodies, but her system flooded with relief when she realised neither belonged to Elara. One was an old man, his mouth open in a silent scream as his glassy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. His throat was slit open, but the blood wasn't flowing anymore. He'd been like that a while.
The other body was female - small, lithe, with a mess of long dark hair and a shirt glistening with fresh blood. The blood witch. Judging by the whimpers fleeing her lips, the blood was hers.
"Hey!" Farah shouted, grabbing her by the throat and throwing her against the wall. She choked, but didn't have the strength to struggle against her. "Where is she?" She growled. The blood witch laughed, a choked sound that made blood bubble at her lips and trickle down her chin.
"You're too late," she managed to rasp. "She's gone."
Saul had never seen Farah more angry than in that moment. She yelled, slamming the dying woman's frail body against the wall, demanding an explanation, but her eyes were vacant now. The blood wasn't flowing anymore, her skin beginning to grow cold.
"Farah..." Saul murmured, touching her shoulder in restraint. Farah shook him off, hurling the blood witch's corpse aside. She froze as she saw the dagger abandoned on the ground, sitting just below the open window. The metal was stained with blood, and it stuck to her fingers when she picked it up. Still wet.
"She's here," Farah insisted. "She has to be. She- she escaped through the window! She's probably waiting for us!"
Saul's expression folded in pity, but he didn't try to deny Farah's claims. He knew there'd be no reasoning with her right now, not with the panicked look in her eyes.
"Okay," he said in defeat. "Let's go look."
Farah didn't waste time rushing outside, pacing out onto the driveway. "Elara!" She shouted, but her voice was heard only by the trees and the crickets. "Elara!" She yelled again, half running down the drive as she frantically squinted through the trees. What if she was unconscious? What if she needed help?
By the time she reached the car, she was beside herself with worry. The dagger still in her hand, waiting for its owners return. Farah couldn't help but feel she and the dagger had a lot in common.
Farah swallowed, pulling out her phone and dialling Elara's number. It rang, and she counted the rings. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Hey, it's Elara, you know what to do!
The phone beeped. "Elara. Where are you? Call me back!" Farah voice came out angrier than she intended, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. She just needed to see that she was alive - once she knew she was safe... well, she'd get an earful, that was for sure. But at least she'd be able to breathe again. Every moment without her felt like a year without air, like she was drowning with no hope of coming back up. Her breaths came faster, her chest tightening and her jaw clenching as she fought back tears.
No. She was okay. She had to be.
"Farah? Are you okay?"
She heard Saul's voice, but it felt like she was underwater. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she fucking breathe?!
"Farah!" Saul's voice was sharper. "Breathe with me. Come on," Saul urged. "In, out. In, out..."
Breathe? Farah wanted to scream. How can I breathe, Saul, knowing she might not be?
Slowly she began to follow Saul's instructions, managing lungfuls of air that eased the feeling of dizziness that threatened to overcome her. The tight sensation in her chest loosened, and it was replaced with a hollowness that reflected in her empty eyes. She blinked, and was surprised to find tears caught on her eyelashes. She touched her face, mortified to realise she'd been crying. She'd never hear the end of it from Saul...
But Saul wasn't laughing.
"Hey. You okay?" Saul asked. Farah swallowed, swiping at her eyes and nodding, her hard, steely mask erasing any hint of vulnerability from her face.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I-I'm gonna keep looking. You stay here, in case she comes back," she instructed. Saul nodded, and Farah set her jaw, ignoring the pity etched onto her friends expression. Farah took to the trees, knowing she'd comb the woods all night if that was what it took.
—
The two stayed in the hotel for a week, at Farah's insistence.
"She'll come back," she assured Saul. "We- we couldn't find a body, so- so she's coming back."
"Farah..." Saul began, but she shook her head.
"Unless it's good news, I don't wanna hear it, Saul," Farah said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm going to go check the hospital again - you stay here in case she comes back."
The hospital was another dead end - no new patients matching your description. Farah slammed her hand against the steering wheel in frustration. Where was Elara? This made no goddamn sense, a person doesn't just disappear without a trace! Even the Find My iPhone app said she was literally nowhere!
When she arrived back at the motel, she was met with the sight of their neatly packed bags at the door. She stormed inside, seeing Saul packing up the last of his things.
"What the hell, Saul?!" Farah demanded in outrage.
"Farah. She's not here. There's no use staying. If she hasn't turned up yet, chances are she's..." Saul trailed off, but Farah's mind filled in the blanks with far too much detail. She shook the distressing thoughts away.
"You're right - she's probably waiting for us back at the school," Farah said firmly, and Saul sighed, not bothering to argue. He knew it would do no good, and he was also hoping that they'd get back to Alfea to find Elara waiting for them.
The ride back to the school took nearly seven hours, even with Farah's driving, and the moment she was parked she was out the door and charging inside and going to Elara's private suite that connected to hers.
"Elara?" She called. "Elara, are you here?"
The lights were off, and when she turned them on to find their home undisturbed, the last of Farah's hope evaporated. Elara was gone.
—
A Week Later
"What was she thinking?" Farah demanded, pacing the library yet again. "How could she be so stupid?! How could I be so stupid?! I know her, of course she'd try to fucking prove herself, I should've stopped it!"
She swung her fist into the wall, opening another hole in the plaster. Her knuckles screamed in protest, already raw and bleeding from what she'd subjected them to the past week. She'd yet to tire herself out, yet to drown in the anger washing over her in rough, violent waves. The library was a mess of broken furniture, and she didn't even want to think about the state of her room.
Saul looked up tiredly. Elara's loss had taken its toll on him as well, but instead of cycling through the stages of grief, Saul had just shut off. He's tried to be there for Farah in the beginning, but the way she was now, there was no use. Anything he'd say would just make her angrier, so he said nothing.
Farah strode from the room, door slamming behind her as she nursed her bleeding knuckles. She found herself in her room - the one you had shared with her when you were a baby.
She shook the thoughts away, eyes vacantly skimming over the mess before her. The mattress was stripped of its sheets, which sat in a torn pile atop it, residual mess from when she needed so badly to rip something. Her desk was overturned, the papers it had been holding scattered over the floor, crumpling whenever she took a step. Glass crunched under her feet - the remainders of photo frames, from when she just needed to throw something. Her cellphone laid broken irreparably on the floor - she had to destroy it. When it was working, she couldn't stop herself from calling you just to hear your voicemail - and that was destroying her.
Amidst the chaos, Farah glimpsed the corner of a photograph hidden beneath the scrunched, flyaway papers. She pulled it out, her heart stopping as she saw it.
The two of you were together, when you were only four. You were laughing and giggling away as Farah held you on her hip, laughing at you. The photo was blurry, and the vague shape of a leaf covered the bottom right corner, but she could still see her forehead leaning against yours. She remembered the day well...
*******
It was the last day of summer, and for once, everything was good. There hadn't been any dangers that needed Farah's attention, no pending attack from burned ones, nothing to worry about for the first time in so long. So the two of them had decided a picnic would be the perfect way to celebrate.
The moment she'd suggested it, Elara's eyes had lit up and she was entranced how adorable she was in that moment - eyes bright, smile brighter, seeming to radiate light as she grabbed her hand and tugged her impatiently to the car, demanding that the two of them go to the grocery store to pick out some food. That was Elara all over - spontaneity was written into her genetic code. But apparently, so was recklessness.
It wasn't long until the mother and daughter were spread over a picnic blanket, nestled together and watching the birds jump from branch to branch in the trees overhead. A tiny brook trickled nearby.
Farah's head snapped up when she heard footsteps, but it was just Saul. "Uncle Saul!" Elara had screeched, her tiny body launching itself at him. He caught her and hugged her as he laughed at Elara's excitement. When Farah got up to go towards the two, she had already wriggled out of his grip and was running back to her mother. She picked her up in one gentle movement, and placed Elara on her hip. The tiny girl started giggling as she watched squirrels chasing each other, and Farah had started to laugh at Elara. "Mama, look!" Elara had said excitedly, pointing at the squirrels. "I see them sweet girl" She said as her forehead rested against Elara's, and she stared into Elara's eyes for a moment, the ones that were identical to her own.
The girl smiled at her mother, before Elara wrapped her arms around Farah's neck, placing a classic wet child kiss to her cheek.
Farah hadn't even noticed when Saul took his phone out to take a picture of the two.
********
Farah could still feel the ghost of Elara's hand in her own, small and warm and soft, and she didn't realise she was crying until she saw the teardrops making the ink bleed.
"Shit," she muttered, dabbing at the photo and managing to spare it from too much damage. She carefully put it aside, running the back of her hand over her burning eyes. She sniffed. God, she hated crying. It made her feel so helpless, so... weak. Like she was drowning, and had never learned to swim.
She swallowed hard, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Elara might be gone now, but she couldn't lose you - not like this. Not without even a goddamn body to bury. It wasn't fair.
——————-
Later that night
"She- she's gone, Saul."
Saul closed his eyes in defeat, taking the bottle of bourbon from Farah.
"Hey!" She protested. Saul shot her a look, grabbing another glass and pouring them both a shot. He raised his glass.
"To Elara."
Farah swallowed, holding her glass so tightly she was surprised it hadn't shattered in her grip.
"To Elara."
—-
Two Weeks Later
Farah had woken up late again - it had to be well after noon. She groaned, head throbbing and stomach churning. Looked like she'd gone too heavy on the bourbon last night - again.
She stumbled to the shower, the hot water unknotting her muscles and the steam soothing her stinging, red rimmed eyes. It hurt when she blinked. She looked down at her knuckles; tender, but beginning to scab over. She remembered your photo, still lying on her desk. She threw up into the drain.
Farah kneeled on the shower floor, shaking and retching as last night's liquor washed away. Her eyes were tearing up again, but at least this time it was from the heaving, and not the hollowness in her chest.
The fairy got to her feet, running her trembling hand over her mouth and shutting off the water. She dried herself half heartedly, and when she was dressed, the first thing she did was go to the kitchen and pour herself another drink.
It didn't look like Saul was in this part of the school - probably out training. He'd been doing that alot since Elara had died. Training. Said it helped. He'd invited Farah a couple of times, but she never felt like it. Said she couldn't run away from this, not this time.
Farah downed the shot of bourbon, feeling it soothe her nausea and ease the pounding in her skull. Her headache was reinvigorated, however, when there was a tentative knock at the door to her suite. She groaned, heaving herself to her feet as ehe climbed the stairs.
"Saul, you know you don't have to knock, get it togeth-" she began to say as the door swung open, but she cut herself off at the sight before her. Her heart stopped and her mouth fell open. She couldn't breathe.
"Elara?"
