Elyonari slumped against the boulder, her body trembling from the effort it had taken to resist.
She took heavy breaths, her silver hair clinging to her sweat-slicked skin as she stared into the darkness behind her closed eyelids. The storm still raged beyond the barrier.
But the voices had stopped. She withstood it but others were still undergoing the mental attack.
She swallowed hard, her throat dry and raw. Then, like a floodgate breaking, anger surged through her. Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms as she ground her teeth.
"Fuck you, stupid cursed storm… how dare you use his voice against me?"
The storm had mimicked Vastarael. His warmth, his charm, the way his voice could make her feel safe even in chaos. It had twisted that, corrupted it into a weapon meant to break her.
The audacity burned in her chest.
Tears blurred her vision as she pounded a fist against the rock behind her, almost shattering it.
"You're not him! You'll never be him!" She hissed, her voice trembling. "You think you can just... just pretend to be Vastarael and I'd fall for it?!"
But even as she shouted, she felt the cracks forming in her heart. She missed him. It wasn't just his voice that haunted her. It was the reminder of his absence, the emptiness where he should have been.
She could picture him so clearly: the way his golden eyes sparkled with mischief, the curve of his lips when he smiled, the sound of his laughter that always seemed to ease her tension.
"I miss you," she whispered, barely audible. Her shoulders shook as she buried her face in her hands. "I miss you so damn much..."
And that was the worst part.
The storm hadn't only mimicked him. It had reminded her of how much she wanted to see him again. To hear his real voice, not some cruel imitation meant to shatter her resolve.
The Cursed Sandstorm used the most powerful desires of a being and use it against them. And to Elyonari, Vastarael was the only desire she wanted. She wanted to see him again.
Her breathing quickened as her thoughts spiraled.
What if he didn't survive? What if the Epoch Cycle had already claimed him? What if he was already...
She shook her head violently, trying to banish the images of Vastarael lying lifeless in some far-off corner of the Cycle.
The more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more they clawed at her mind. Her hands trembled as she gripped her staff. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, the sharp pain snapping her back for a moment. Her frustration boiled over, anger at herself mixing with her fury at the storm.
"You won't break me," she growled through clenched teeth, her voice low and venomous. "Not with his voice. Not with anything."
°°°°°
The storm passed after a few agonizing minutes.
Elyonari blinked against the sudden stillness, the eerie silence that seemed to press down on them more than the roar of the storm ever had. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her lashes heavy with tears and grit.
The first thing she noticed was Adelasta, sitting next to her, her knees pulled to her chest as she leaned against the boulder. Her normally icy demeanor was cracked, tears streaking her face as she stared blankly ahead.
But she was alive. They both were.
That was more than could be said for the others.
Elyonari rose shakily to her feet, the stiffness in her limbs making her movements sluggish. Her eyes swept over the scene before her and her stomach twisted violently.
It was chaos.
Students stumbled to their feet, their faces pale and their expressions vacant. Some clutched at their heads, muttering nonsensical words under their breath. Their minds had fractured, the whispers of the storm breaking them beyond repair.
Others sat frozen, their eyes wide but unseeing, bodies trembling as though caught in an endless nightmare.
And then there were the missing.
Her breath hitched as her gaze landed on a pile of clothes, neatly floating as if someone had simply stepped out of them and left them there.
But the truth was far worse.
Elyonari's blood ran cold as she noticed something nestled amidst the fabric.
Eyes.
Wide, lifeless, unblinking eyeballs stared back at her.
They were perfectly intact, positioned where the heads of the missing students should have been. As though the storm had carefully plucked the students out of existence but left their clothes and their eyes behind.
The eyeballs were floating.
She took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. But it didn't matter where she looked.
Everywhere, the same grotesque sight repeated itself. Piles of clothes replacing the bodies of the students, each accompanied by two wide, staring eyes.
Some of the eyes were still wet, glistening in the harsh sunlight. Others had begun to dry out, the dull, milky film of death settling over them.
And the worst part was the sheer number of them.
Four hundred.
Four hundred students were gone, their only remains reduced to eerie, staring remnants of their existence.
Adelasta stood beside her now, her usual stoic expression replaced by something hollow and broken.
"Four hundred," Adelasta muttered, her voice cold but shaking at the edges. "Gone. Just like that."
Her words sent a chill down Elyonari's spine, but she couldn't look away. Her hands trembled as she tried to steady her breathing.
A scream tore through the silence and Elyonari turned sharply to see a boy clutching at floating clothes, shaking them violently as though he could summon their missing owner back. He wailed, his voice raw with despair.
"They were just here! They were just here!"
Others weren't faring any better.
One girl knelt beside a pile of clothes, stroking them gently as she whispered,
"It's okay. You're okay. I'll find you. I promise…" Her voice cracked as she repeated the words like a broken set, her tears soaking into the fabric.
Her eyes were lifeless.
The whispers of the storm had left them in ruins, minds shattered like glass. And yet, Elyonari couldn't bring herself to look away from the eyes.
She swore one pair blinked.
"Stop," she hissed under her breath, squeezing her own eyes shut. 'It's over. It's over. It's—"
Adelasta's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.
"Focus. We have to keep moving. The storm is gone but if we don't act, we'll lose more."
Elyonari nodded stiffly, forcing her gaze away from the haunting scene before her. She wiped at her tear-streaked face with trembling hands, trying to steady herself.
The students whose mental states were stable walked towards Elyonari and Adelasta, looking at them. They all looked at the others whose minds were incredibly unstable.
"Future Duchess Adelasta, what should we do to them?"
Adelasta's answer was so shocking that Elyonari thought that it was the storm speaking.
"We kill them."