Not more than five minutes ago, my soul-brother and best friend was at my side. Not more than five minutes ago, we were exalting in the festivities, being welcomed by the satyrs, centaurs, fauns, and faeries. Not more than five minutes ago, this was a dream, not a nightmare.

But then, my hands were behind my back, and so were his. He was led away from me. But what hurt the most was that he wasn’t fighting.

Why wasn’t he fighting?!

It hit me like a troll’s club to the chest. He had never intended to stay. He hid his face, gathering courage, hiding shame. When he looked up, the tears in his eyes reflected the ceremonial flame. “I’m so sorry! Kaeli, I love you. I’ll come back, I promise. I love you!”

With that, he disappeared.

Time slowed down. I barely felt the ceremonial wreath being placed upon my brown locks, or the phoenix quill being pressed into my hand.

All I saw was every blow of the dwarven axe to the ash tree. And then the fire. I realized that part of me went up in flames with it.