From tears and ash

Chapter 2 (.3)

"Excuse me, are you okay?"
Ellia awoke, immediately shielding her eyes from the sun. Gods, it was bright. Where was she? She moved, and her back ached.
"Uhm. Yeah, Im okay."
Her voice was hoarse, and she cleared her throat, "Where am I?"

The shadow above her looked around, "You are... uh.. in a field?"
Ellia hadn't had any nightmares, and she hadn't awoken with the sun. Why was she in a field? Fynn would be worried about her. Fynn. Everything came flooding back. That's when the nightmare began, remembering what had happened.
"Oh." She stood and stretched out her back, wincing.

"Gods, are your hands okay?"
"Huh?" She looked down to her hands, crusted blood, and cuts covered them.
"Oh, yeah, it's nothing. I should get going."
"You sure there isn't anything I can do to help?"
Ellia didn't look at the man. She just started to walk up the hill. Thankfully, the man didn't follow.

She found her house door open. She must've left it open when she left. The house was cold. Fynn's window was open. She closed it, not wanting the house to be cold for him when he came back. She looked at the room. The bowl of food had been knocked over. She needed to clean it before Fynn got home. She needed the house to be clean.

She got soap and a brush and scrubbed. Her hands hurt, but she found the pain a good grounding point. She deserved to feel pain. She had hurt so many others. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of paper. She reached under the bed and grabbed it. "To smelli Elli."
It was from Fynn. He did leave a note.

"To Smelli Elli.
I've just popped out for an hour or two.
I dont want to sit around waiting for a miracle to happen.
I want to help.
We can sell the sheep and the cow, and im going to the mines to get something valuable.
We can take the money and run.
Get a fancy house with a pretty flower garden and running water, like you always wanted (I know how much you hated running baths).
I want you to be happy. I want you to live and not worry about me all the time. Hell, even if it means moving back to the Fae lands.
It's better than here, slowly watching everyone die.
I love you, and I'll be back soon.
See you later, alligator."

He did leave a note. He wanted to help. Ellia didn't have any tears left to cry. She had gone numb. She sat and stared at the note for a long while. Re-reading it over and over again. By the time the sun set that night, Ellia knew what she wanted to do. She was going to leave. Sell the sheep and cow. Fetch enough money to travel to the Fae lands. It was time she went back. She would leave in the morning. She had a few errands to run first.

It took a while for her to find. The place where she had buried everything. Her parents had known the Fire Fae weren't far from an attack and, as a precaution, had hidden Ellia's blades far from their home. In case running failed, she was to find those and fight. Fighting was in her blood. Her father was a warrior and a well-known one at that. He had trained her from a young age, knowing the world for how it truly was, a terrible and cruel place. Ellia had simply wanted to be like her father. She had taken her training seriously, only resting when she must. But then they died. And she left. She had taken her swords with her, just in case something were to happen. She had hidden them away when they first arrived in this village, not wanting to draw any attention. She only took them out again on Fynn's 12th birthday when Ellia realised Fynn didn't know how to fight after a very poor attempt from Fynn in a play fight. Since then, they have lay buried, a few fields from their house. Close enough to run to but far enough away that they couldn't be directly traced back to her.

Now she knelt in front of the tree, digging with a small shovel she had for the flowers. How funny it was to be digging for weapons with the same trowel used to plant such beautiful flowers.
"There is a beauty to fighting. You just have to find the rythm." Her fathers words echoed in her head.

Eventually, she saw the blue fabric she had wrapped the blades in. They sang to her as she took them out of the ground. Whispering stories of many years passed. She uncovered the blanket from around them. The blades shone in the starlight. The swords curved metal looking like something carved from the stars themselves. The handles were black and deep blue. The colour of shadows and night. She couldn't help but smile as she gripped them in her hands. A sword in her right and a dagger in the left. She fiddled with her grip of the right one, a habit she had picked up from her father. Even so, they felt comforting, like home.

Ellia removed all the wards and magic she had put in place to dampen any fae parts of her. Her ears changed from a plain curve into a slight point. She felt stronger. Her senses felt more. She could feel the varied temperatures within the light breeze on the back of her neck. She could see every single star in the sky, the colours the sky held beyond black. The blues and purples seemed to mingle with the sky like an oil spill. Gods how she missed being a fae. Shadows wrapped around her forearms, and Ellia finally felt like she could breathe a full breath. One she hadn't had in a long time. She felt as if half of her being had finally returned.
She turned to look down at the village below her. This time, she wasn't running. This time, she didn't have anyone to protect, to save. She just had one thought, revenge. She started to walk down the hill.

The shadows wrapped around her tighter, forming a hooded cloak. She breathed another deep breath, finally feeling like her fae spirit had fully returned, and I became darkness.