Torn

The smoke-filled hallways curled in the drone’s wake as Ylfa whipped around, all her attention snapping to Eny. The machine still hummed - a low, unnatural sound - as she bounded over, hands flying to the glass cover. She tugged. Nothing. There wasn’t even a handle to grip.

Ylfa cursed under her breath. If Jere were here he’d know how to open it instantly.

Eny squirmed, unaware of her presence, face tight with pain. Ylfa slammed her palm against the glass, but it was clear none of Eny’s senses were reaching her. Teeth grit, she tore her gaze away and scanned the room for anything - anything - that could break it.

Her eyes locked onto Yejide’s fallen dagger.

She sprinted, snatched it from the bloodied floor, and ran back. With the ferocity of a cornered animal she drove the blade into the glass - once, twice, again - snarling as cracks spider-webbed across the surface. Finally, with a deafening crash, it shattered. Ylfa yanked her arm back just in time to avoid striking Eny.

A rush of air hissed out. The machine went silent. The metal rods retracted, revealing that none of them had pierced Eny’s flesh - they had only touched her skin - but Ylfa felt in her bones that something magical and far worse had been happening.

Eny’s face softened immediately. Her breathing eased, her expression unknotted, no longer twisted in agony. But the clasps around her didn’t release.

Before Ylfa could draw breath, the machine shuddered back to life. A groan deepened to a familiar hum, and the rods pressed inward again. Eny whimpered even in unconsciousness.

Ylfa didn’t hesitate.

She raised the dagger and hacked at the clasps. Metal shrieked under the force of each blow. Jagged remnants of the shattered cover sliced into her arms, blood running warm down her skin, but she didn’t stop. She barely even felt it. All she saw was her daughter.

Harder and harder she slashed until finally, with a ringing crack, the mechanism gave way. The machine fizzled out again. The remaining clasps sprang open, the circuit broken.

Ylfa slid her hands beneath Eny and lifted her with the instinctive gentleness only a mother could wield. Her daughter remained unconscious, honey-blonde hair spilling over Ylfa’s arm, lashes resting softly on pale cheeks.

No more time. No more thinking.

Ylfa bolted.

Her feet pounded against stone, adrenaline erasing all sense of injury. Blood dripped freely from her arms, but she didn’t feel the sting - only the weight of Eny’s small form pressed against her chest and the single, roaring promise that she would get her out.

She tore past the puddled remains of knights, around corners she remembered, through corridors lit only by the flicker of spreading flame. Smoke stung her eyes; tears rose without her knowing their source. Still she ran, legs burning, lungs raw.

Higher. Faster.

A final flight of stairs spilled her into a wooden hallway. She sprinted on, heart hammering, leaving a trail of red behind her.

She recognised it now - the hall she and Jere had walked when they first stayed here. Their old room’s door. The grand entrance where the maid had greeted them, oblivious to the Formy walking beside her.

The exit was ahead. Heavy wooden doors. Freedom. Safety.

She charged across the expensive carpet-

“YLFA, HALT!”

Instinct made her obey. She stopped and turned.

Her face went numb.

At the far end of the hallway stood a tall man. His dark hair - glossy black streaked with white - was cut short. His chest was bare, revealing a sculpted, battle-forged body. His pants were far too expensive to be held up by nothing but a rope. But what froze Ylfa’s breath were the wolf ears atop his head…and the long tail swaying behind him.

A Formy.

His sly grin sharpened, red eyes - slightly darker than her own - gleaming as he twirled two short swords between his fingers.

Ylfa’s mouth opened, closed. Her blood dripped onto her shoes.

“K-Kaleo…”

His grin widened as he stalked forward, slow and predatory.

“So you do remember me. Good. That’ll make things much easier.”

Her throat tightened. With Eny in her arms she was utterly defenceless.

Kaleo continued, voice thick with contempt.

“You know, it’s been ages since you abandoned us demons and ran off with the human’s superweapon. But now I see you didn’t just betray your own people, you went and married one of them. Even had a child.”

He spat. Ylfa’s jaw tightened.

“Jere is not a human! He’s closer to a demon than anything else-”

Kaleo didn’t break stride.

“He still kills demons, does he not? And so do you.”

He spat again.

“What a disgrace. I will enjoy killing you.”

He broke into a sprint-

-then stopped dead, face twisting in surprise.

His expression went blank, then thoughtful. He nodded at empty air.

“You know what? Nevermind. Carry on.”

And he turned around and walked away.

Ylfa stared, stunned, until she noticed Eny - awake - watching Kaleo leave with wide, bright eyes. The girl looked up at her, smiling.

“Thanks for saving me, Mama! Look, I repaid you!”

Ylfa blinked at her…then crushed her into a hug so tight it shook, collapsing to her knees as tears streamed through her blood and soot.

“Eny… Eny…”

Eny rested her head on Ylfa’s shoulder, confused but calm.

“What’s wrong, Mama?”

Ylfa only held her tighter, sobbing silently.

The doors behind them exploded inward. Wood shards tore through the air. A few hit Ylfa’s back; she immediately pushed Eny’s head down, shielding her eyes. She turned, heart hammering.

Knights. A whole group, swords raised and advancing.

Ylfa pulled Eny to her chest and curled around her, bracing for the spear in her spine-

-but instead came the clang of falling metal.

She lifted her head.

A knight’s body slid off the tip of Jere’s wing and crashed to the floor.

He turned toward her, eyes flaring with raw, terrified concern.

“Are you alright?”

Eny peeked over Ylfa’s shoulder.

“Papa!”

Relief surged through Jere - until he saw Ylfa’s tears, and the shredded, blood-slick skin of her arms.

His jaw tightened.

“We need to get out of here.”

Ylfa nodded and pushed herself up, but her legs trembled, the adrenaline fading fast. She wouldn’t be able to hold onto him in flight.

So he stepped forward and lifted her easily into his arms, Ylfa clutching Eny securely between them.

Eny’s face lit up.

“Are we going flying? Yippee!”

Jere gave her a baffled look - trying and failing to guess how much she had actually understood - before turning and carrying them out of the castle.

Flames licked the walls, fireballs from the basement now devouring the structure from within. But outside, the dawn air was cool, clean, open.

Jere spread his wings.
They beat once - hard.

And the three of them shot into the sky, leaving the ruin behind.