A Mother’s Despair
But Eira only laughed, the sound hollow and cold, reverberating through the chamber like a cruel melody of triumph. “You’ll never see them again, Isla,” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage, each word laced with venom that cut deep into Isla’s soul. Her eyes burned with a mix of fury and satisfaction as she leaned forward, her tone sharpening with every syllable. “And even if, by some miracle, you find them, it won’t matter. They’ll be beyond your reach—lost to you forever.”
The portal’s energy surged violently, its brilliance swallowing the room in waves of searing, blinding light. The very air seemed to ripple under the force of the magic, crackling with an intensity that pressed against Isla’s chest like a crushing weight. Her heart shattered as the cries of her children pierced through the cacophony, their desperate wails like knives slicing through her already fragile resolve.
“No!” Isla screamed, her silver light flaring to life in a desperate, blinding burst as she reached out toward the portal. Every fiber of her being fought against the overwhelming tide of darkness. She stretched her hand as far as it could go, willing the magic to obey her, to tear through the void and pull her children back to safety.
But it was too late. In a heartbeat, the portal collapsed with a deafening roar, consuming her children in its merciless maw. Their cries faded into nothingness, snuffed out like the last flicker of a dying flame. The room fell eerily silent, save for the faint, haunting hum of lingering magic that hung heavy in the air like the ghost of what had just occurred.
Time seemed to halt as Isla remained frozen, her arm still outstretched toward the empty space where her children had been only moments ago. Her silver light, once so radiant and powerful, flickered weakly, the dim glow reflecting the anguish etched into her every movement. Slowly, the light faded completely, leaving only the suffocating darkness that seemed to press in from all sides, mirroring the void that now consumed her heart.
“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible over the oppressive silence. “No… no, no!” Her words grew louder, more frantic, until they broke into a desperate, guttural cry. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the cold, unforgiving floor. Her hands clawed at the empty air, her fingers curling and uncurling in futile desperation as if she could somehow pull them back from the void. Tears streamed down her face in endless rivers, her sobs raw and ragged, each one tearing through her chest with a pain that felt unbearable. “Bring them back!” she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her anguish. “Please! Bring them back! Don’t take them from me!”
Eira stepped forward with measured, deliberate steps, her movements eerily calm in stark contrast to Isla’s devastation. Her expression was composed, almost serene, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. For a fleeting moment, her demeanor appeared pitying, as though she were offering a shred of sympathy. But her words carried no kindness—only cold, cutting cruelty.
“You’ll never see them again,” Eira said softly, her voice slicing through the suffocating silence with the precision of a blade. Each word was deliberate, dripping with malice. “They’re gone now, Isla. And even if by some miracle they survive, it won’t be the reunion you’re hoping for.”
Her tone grew colder, sharper, as she leaned in slightly, her gaze piercing. “They’ll die in some cruel, unforgiving world—or worse, they’ll grow up hating you. Hating you for abandoning them, for failing to save them when they needed you most.”
Eira’s words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, each one striking Isla with the force of a hammer blow. Isla’s breath hitched, her chest heaving as fresh sobs tore through her. She clawed at the floor, her body trembling with the sheer force of her despair.
Eira stood tall, her cold smile lingering as she savored her victory. The room, now silent save for Isla’s anguished cries, seemed to echo with the finality of her words. For Isla, the weight of Eira’s triumph was unbearable, pressing down like an unrelenting storm, leaving her drowning in a sea of grief, anger, and hopelessness.
