Smoke invaded her lungs and she could feel ashes and sparks falling on her face. She tried to take deep breaths and remind herself that it was just a nightmare, but then she opened her eyes and saw it. The fire was real. It was burning away the back half of their treehouse, and was edging closer to them every second.
"Leif!" Sylrie cried, desperately trying to wake him. "Leif!"
His eyes snapped open and grew wide when he saw the fire.
"I'll call the shadows," Sylrie said. "Cover your mouth and nose and wait for me to come back."
Leif's eyes filled with determination and he nodded, obeying her and lifting his sleeve to his mouth. Sylrie only had to think about being a shadow to transform, and since it was dark outside it was easy for her to slip out of the window and through the fire that surrounded the treehouse. Then she noticed. There were four cloaked figures standing at the bottom of the treehouse, and all of them were wearing grey cloaks. Anger flared up inside her. These were the same Draconians that had thrown Leif's parents off the roof. She tiptoed towards them, thinking that they couldn't see her. Then one of them turned their head towards her and, even though she was still a shadow, grinned right at her. Fear crawled up her spine. She turned to run, but the figure clamped onto her arm and tied a piece of cloth around her mouth to muffle her cries for help. They said something to the other figures and one of them raised their arms. Sylrie gasped. The figure was controlling the fire, bending it away from the treehouse. They cackled, and their voice sent a shiver down her spine.
"Come out, little boy. Come out, come out wherever you are. We have your friend out here, and I'm sure she wants to say hello."
Even in the pitch black, Sylrie could make out Leif climbing down the ladder of the treehouse. His feet hit the ground and his fury was written plainly on his face when he saw the figures.
"Let her go," he growled.
The fire-controlling figure laughed again.
"Oh, you can have the girl. That is, if you can keep her alive. You see this knife?" the figure asked, holding up a glistening blade from their cloak sleeve. "It has a lethal dose of Draconian poison on it. One little, tiny pinprick would kill your friend. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
The figure turned and lifted Sylrie's arm.
"Bye, bye, Sylrie Noir. Sorry I had to kill your parents."
They drove the knife into Sylrie's shoulder and then her vision blurred. The white hot pain raced through her, invading all her senses at once. It felt like a lightning bolt had hit her. The figure twisted the knife, which was still in her shoulder, and every nerve in her body exploded with agony.
"No!" someone cried.
Sylrie fell to her knees and someone caught her before she could hit the ground.
"Oh my god, Sylrie."
She could feel Leif healing her, but it wasn't enough. The poison was already overtaking her mind and body. She took a deep breath and sent out a call to the shadows. They gathered in the clearing, surrounding her and Leif. They all put their hands on her forehead and sucked the poison out of her. She could feel Leif holding her tighter as she sank into unconsciousness.
YOU ARE READING
Everlasting
General Fiction*COMPLETED* Sylrie Noir's life was hard enough as it was. She had been orphaned and exiled as a child, and all other children who had the misfortune of meeting her had run away after a few minutes, screaming and crying. And it was all because of the...
