Grandmother looked away, her gaze falling to Devon's unconscious form.
It was Grandfather who finally spoke, his voice heavy.
"Now is not the time."
"Not the time?" I repeated incredulously. "When will it be? When we're all dead? When there's no one left to ask?"
The creatures surged forward again, cutting off any further conversation. I turned back to face them, channeling my fury into the Aether.
Each blast felt stronger, more controlled, but the power was draining me. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my limbs trembling with exhaustion.
Despite my efforts, the creatures kept coming. Their numbers seemed endless, their corrupted energy feeding off the chaos around them. I knew I couldn't hold them back forever, but I couldn't stop—not without answers, not without knowing why this was happening.
Grandfather's gaze met mine, steady but heavy with unspoken truths. "It's not that simple, child."
"Make it simple," I demanded, stepping closer. My hands trembled, not from fear but from the overwhelming storm raging within me. "If you don't tell me now, I'll find out on my own. You owe me this much—if this power is mine, I need to understand it. I need to understand why it's tearing my life
Devon stirred uncomfortably, his weak voice cutting in. "Taryn, maybe they're just trying to protect you."
I scoffed, my chest heaving with frustration. "Protect me? By keeping me in the dark? Look at what we're facing! Knowing the truth could save us!"
But before anyone could answer, the sound of the creatures' movements outside sliced through the tension. Their guttural snarls and jagged footsteps brought everyone to attention, shattering the fragile moment of confrontation.
"Grandmother, Grandfather, listen to me," I said, my voice trembling but resolute. "You need to leave. All of you. Go far away from this place before it's too late."
"What are you talking about?" Jia snapped, her eyes narrowing with disbelief. "We're not leaving you!"
"You have to," I insisted. "If these creatures are after me, then I'm the one putting you all in danger. If you're not here, they won't have any reason to come."
"That's ridiculous!" Jia's voice was sharp and fierce, her stance unyielding. "We survive together. I'm not going anywhere without you."
Grandmother stepped closer, her gentle hand gripping my arm. "Taryn, we won't abandon you."
"You're not abandoning me!" I protested, my voice cracking under the weight of the words. "You're doing what's necessary. If you stay, we'll all die here."
Jia shook her head vehemently, while Devon simply stared at me, his face filled with quiet disbelief. But my grandparents exchanged another loaded glance, one that made my stomach churn.
Were they considering it?
The creatures were growing louder outside, their shadows moving closer. I could feel the Aether stirring within me, the power both reassuring and terrifying.
"Grandfather," I said, turning to him directly. "You always told me that survival meant sacrifice. Isn't that what this is? You taught me to do whatever it takes to protect what matters most—and that's you. All of you."
He didn't reply immediately, his expression hard as granite. Finally, he said, "I taught you that sacrifice should never be reckless."
"This isn't reckless," I argued. "This is our only chance. If you leave, I can hold them off long enough for you to get away. That's the only way we all survive."
Grandfather hesitated, his fingers gripping the edge of the window frame as his gaze shifted to the advancing creatures. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying," I shot back, my voice fierce.
"I'm not asking you to do this because it's easy. I'm asking because it's right."
But still, he didn't budge.
as the creatures finally breached the walls. Their guttural growls and jagged limbs pushed through the old wooden barricades, splintering them with a sickening crunch. Jia turned toward me, her face pale with fury and fear.
"See what happens when we stay?" I shouted, summoning a blast of Aether to hold them back. "If you don't leave now, you won't make it out alive!"
Grandmother's voice broke through the chaos. "Taryn, this isn't—"
"There's no time!" I interrupted, barely dodging a creature's claw as it swiped at me. My arms burned with the effort of summoning the Aether, but I didn't let myself falter. "You need to leave now!"
Finally, Jia's resolve cracked. She turned toward the others, her voice firm but trembling. "We have to go."
"No!" Grandmother protested. "We can't leave her!"
"We don't have a choice," Jia countered. Her gaze shifted to me, filled with reluctant respect. "She's right."
The words hit me like a wave, both affirming and gut-wrenching. I turned toward them, my chest heaving as I struggled to hold back the creatures. "Go!"
Grandfather hesitated, but he nodded grimly. Devon was too weak to protest as Grandmother helped him to his feet. Jia led the way, her movements swift and precise.
And then they were gone.
I was alone.
For a fleeting moment, I let the truth of that word sink in. Alone. No Jia to bark orders. No Grandfather's stoic presence or Grandmother's grounding touch. Even Devon's quiet strength was gone. It was just me—and the monsters.
I was left alone in the crumbling remnants of our home. The creatures surged toward me, their corrupted energy feeding off my Aether. I fought back with everything I had, again and again, my body trembling with exhaustion but my mind blazing with determination.
"I will not be like them."
I tightened my grip on the spiraling storm within me, feeling its energy pulse through my veins like molten fire. It was strange, almost comforting, how the Aether seemed to respond to my emotions, as though it were alive.
The creatures didn't wait for me to ponder long. The eleventh one lunged, its clawed limbs cutting through the air with terrifying speed. I threw up a shield of Aether, the energy snapping and crackling as it absorbed the impact. The creature hissed, recoiling, but another was already closing in.
I attacked.
As I struck down another, I caught sight of the house—or what was left of it. The crumbling walls, the broken windows, the splintered furniture—it had been my sanctuary, my home. And now it was a battlefield. A reminder of all I had lost and all I stood to lose.
My breath came in ragged gasps, my vision blurring as the edges of my strength began to fray. Still, I refused to stop. I couldn't stop.
Not now. Not ever.