Lyric's Vow

My heart pounded as I stood at the Terelune River, the boundary line between Lunedralis and Vandrissa. I watched as Vandrissa was engulfed in flames, the vivid hues of orange and red licking the sky like a ravenous beast. This was my doing. I could hardly wrap my mind around it. Guilt and disbelief swirled within me as I remembered when I lost it. Lost control of all my emotions. Of my power.

I’d never imagined that because of this ability, I’d end the lives of hundreds of innocent elves. The sky was ashen gray, while the air was thick with smoke, which burned my eyes and lungs. The crackling sounds of burning wood, paper, and fabric filled my ears.

A single tear burned down my cheek, a reminder that I just demolished Vandrissa and had to deal with Pyrokinesis for the rest of my life. I blamed Queen Raven Darkholme of Vandrissa, my sister, for killing my best friend, Nova. After killing her, Raven somehow managed to cover it up for two whole months. Now, I have to plan a funeral and inform Nova’s family of her death.

I wasn’t born with Pyrokinesis. It was triggered. You see, in our family, abilities aren’t just acquired when you’re born or when you turn a certain age. No, our powers are typically caused by a traumatic event. So, for Raven, her Shapeshifting was activated because she felt like she was responsible for the deaths of our parents and Amina, our little sister. Well, my ability came from Nova’s death.

I discovered I was a Pyrokinetic when some of our Lunedralian soldiers captured Forrest, a skilled assassin and spy for Raven. At that point, Nova had been “missing” for almost two months. It was then that I learned what had actually happened to my best friend.

Nova had gone into town to get some supplies for our next mission, which would’ve been to ambush Queen Darkholme. She didn’t disguise herself well enough, as she was kidnapped and taken to the dungeon beneath Raven’s throne room by Forrest, of course. According to the assassin, there was some sort of explosive planted in the stone wall of Nova’s cell, and it exploded. He apparently got to the scene just moments before she died.

I was furious. Furious that her death was hidden from me for months. Furious that I couldn’t have saved her. I remember yelling to the soldiers who’d brought him to me to “take him away”. Fire poured from my hand onto the wall of the cartography room. After I saw that, I put my head into my hands and, for the first time in years, truly sobbed. It wasn’t until my boyfriend, Ezra, came that the fire was extinguished (he’s a Hydrokinetic).

But my anger and grief would never change the fact that she’s dead. But it would spark the yearning for revenge. So, I stormed into Raven’s Palace to demand answers about her death. But Raven’s response shocked me. She showed no sign of guilt whatsoever for killing Nova. In fact, she seemed totally fine with it. Almost as if Nova was sleeping in the next room over. It disgusted me. How could someone be so cold? So emotionless?

And that’s why I set Vandrissa on fire. To avenge Nova.

“Lyric?” Someone tapped on my shoulder. “It’s time.”

I wasn’t standing at the Terelune River, watching Vandrissa burn. No, I was standing in front of Nova’s casket at her funeral. And the tears rolling down my cheeks weren’t from anger anymore. They were from guilt. From despair.

Then came the time for the speeches. I wasn’t ready for mine, even though I was one of the last people to go. The sky rumbled overhead, reminding us that it could rain any minute. As the person before me finished their eulogy, I pulled the simple parchment cards from the inner pocket of my cloak.

My voice was shaky and barely audible. The eulogy had been so hard to write, and yet, here I was, stuttering my way through it. I glanced up from the note cards only once when I saw her: Raven Darkholme, the one person I hoped I wouldn't see at all. What was she doing here? Why would she go to her victim's funeral?

As I finished my eulogy, I tapped my friend, Kat, on the shoulder quickly, signalling to her that she had to go next. I went back to my place next to Ezra, my hands shaking. All I had to do was one movement - simply curl my fingers together in a certain way - but, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Something was holding me back. I shook my head, clearing my mind, and, thankfully, it worked. The gesture I made was slow and deliberate. Ezra glanced down at my hand and then back up to me. I nodded, reassuring him and myself that this was necessary.

Ezra left my side after I nodded, taking a couple of guards with him. The ceremony came to an abrupt halt when a loud crash came from behind. Ezra had pinned Raven to a tree with the water from the nearby lake. The guards then arrested her, presumably taking her to the prison back at our base. I breathed a sigh of relief when Raven was gone, and the funeral continued.

Time didn’t pass; it stalled, dragged out like sand in an unforgiving hourglass. It didn’t seem to move as I stood beneath the ash-like clouds, which were already welcoming the smoke about to rise to them. My gaze was fixed on her casket, which was cloaked in star lilies, each one too pale, too still.

Kat placed her hand on my shoulder, signaling that it was time. Time to let go of Nova. Forever. With her dark-stained bow slung over her shoulder, she held an arrow identical to the ones used in ceremonial funerals. All I had to do was light the arrow. But I couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

I gently brushed my fingertips over the polished surface of the casket, each touch burning a line into the wood. It was my way of saying goodbye to my best friend. Nova had always been there for me, even during those crazy moments when we almost died together. I felt a rush of memories flood back with each touch. Every time we laughed at Ezra’s stupid jokes, or when we shared secrets we couldn’t keep just to ourselves. I vow to keep her memory alive. No matter what it takes.

I stepped away from the coffin, only to realize what the lines formed. They made an intricate symbol that only Nova knew the meaning of. I quickly wiped away a tear before I allowed the bright orange and red flames to dance from the palm of my hand onto the arrow. Kat drew it back, her expression solemn. As she released the arrow, we all watched with grim faces. When the fire was gone and there was nothing left, I knew, no, I realized that Nova was truly gone.

And in her death, I knew what I’d do with my power. I wouldn’t become the villain my sister became. I’d be the exact opposite. The heroine, if that was even still possible.

I burned down Vandrissa. We’d arrested their queen. Both kingdoms of Lunedralis and Vandrissa were without a leader. I remember that Nova used to talk of becoming Queen of Lunedralis, but now that she’s dead, she can’t do that anymore.

So, to honor the memory of Nova Castenelli, and as the sister of Raven Darkholme, I will become Queen of both Lunedralis and Vandrissa, restoring the kingdom of Lunedrissa. Lunedrissa, once both Lunedralis and Vandrissa, had been separated by war. I hope I can reunite them both as one kingdom for now and forever.

Though she is dead, I promise to honor her memory. Especially in my reign as Queen of Lunedrissa.

“For Nova,” I muttered. For Nova.