The brush was think and lush in the forests between villages, and the towns of Fontrack and Moorebrook were no exception. These small towns were tucked so deep into the still wild territories that it could take months for even the quickest traveler to reach Divyelle's holy capitol, Magire. Those whom hadn't dwelled in such places all their lives would find it difficult to navigate from town to town for there was no road, nor trail of any kind, only the constant maze of briars and vines. This is not to say that there was no travel between the communities. Farmers from Fontrack would trade their crops for the fresh fish from Moorebrook nets. Often was the time when a fair's tents or the carriages of a royal procession would rumble into Moorebrook, calling the inhabitants of Fontrack to rush through the small stretch of wood and celebrate with their neighbors. Travel from one town to the other could take less that a hour's walk, running would cut that time in half, so it was no hard task to run to the market for fish, fruit, or whatever goods one's own village could not supply. Even young children, not yet old enough to converse, would be allowed to drift to and from the town in small groups to see festivities that parents and other elders found no interest in. Such was the way it was and had been for many years.

One early morning in late summer a carriage rolled into Moorebrook. The elderly man driving the vehicle looked normal enough and could have easily drifted into the shadowed part of most people's mind, if it hadn't been for the carriage. Black as a raven's wing and twice as glossy with intricate, beautiful carvings covering every surface. This mysterious coach was unlike any that the townsfolk had ever laid eyes on before. Although it was not a fair, nor a royal procession, word quickly spread from Moorebrook to Fontrack about the strange and lovely black carriage.

"I bet it's a princess in disguise! Or the runaway son of a duke!" The small jumped up and down as she spoke, making her long scarlet braids bounce about her pointed ears. "Oh Severin, won't it be exciting?" Her brother's blue eyes followed the girl's brown ones as they moved up and down, then sighed and looked away.

"Stop bouncing Nemil." The girl stopped, but her wide smile and bright eyes didn't dim. "It isn't royalty because they only come around during spring. And," he continued as Nemil opened her mouth to speak. "Nobility doesn't really run away, only ones in your stories would be daft enough to leave their wealth." Nemil crossed her arms and gave Severin a stern look.

"But you are going to take Me." the statement was so forceful that for a moment Severin forgot he was seventy-four years her senior. This information coming back to him, Severin glared at the small child and mimicked her crossed arms.

"No, I'm not taking you because you aren't going." Nemil's mouth dropped open at the young man's words and her arms fell to her sides. A small choking sound was emitted from her open mouth and she took a deep breath, her now large eyes filling with tears as her lips pursed together. Severin gazed at the young girl with unfeeling eyes, so used to his sister's emotional outbursts. It would pass, just like it always did, ending either with Nemil getting her way or Severin getting his.

"Are you quite finished Nemil?" Severin asked after a few tedious minutes of sniffing and pouting. Nemil pulled in her bottom lip, which had slid out further and further during her spell, and blinked her tears away; the pitiful pout faded from her face to be replaced by a look of deep resentment.

"Mama and Papa would let me go!" Nemil shouted, her little fists thrown out behind her in a fit of rage. Severin winced at the mention of their parents, just like he had every time since the incident.

"Well Ma and Pa aren't here, now are they?" Severin shouted back right in the girl's face, having leaned over to be at her level.

"Well that's not my fault!"

"It wasn't theirs either!"

"Yes it was, they could have run!"

"And let us get killed?"

Nemil's mouth hung open for a moment, then closed again and the girl looked down, real tears now entering her eyes. The anger in Severin's face melted away and he put an arm around his sister, trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry Severin," Nemil mumbled quietly, before burying her face in his shoulder and wrapping her small arms around him. Severin patted her hair softly as the little girl wept. After a few minutes the shaking of her back subsided, but she didn't let go of her brother.

"I'm sorry too Nemil," He told her, speaking softly in her ear. "It's just so hard without them, I just want to do everything right, like they would." The brother and sister embraced for a moment longer before Nemil nodded and stepped back, her big brown eyes now puffy from crying.

"I don't need to go; we'll know who it was soon enough anyway." She smiled weakly. Severin looked the child over. Her messy hair, dirty clothes, and puffy eyes all showed the poverty this newly orphaned girl had been made to face. Even just a little happiness was one thing that her brother could give her.

"I'll take you," Nemil looked up, eyes, as puffy as they were, now bright, her mouth wide in a toothy smile. She rushed forward, catching Severin in another tight hug. Severin laughed, hugging her back before adding the clause: "As soon as we finish the garden." But Nemil didn't seem to mind. She rushed out the door to the yard where, by the time Severin got to the door, she was pulling weeds from the vegetable patch. Severin smiled at his sister's enthusiasm, remembering when he had been so eager to get to Moorebrook for just about anything. That had been before Nemil, when his mother and father would walk him through the forest to the fishing village. A familiar pang accompanied the thoughts of his parents, like an empty hollow in his heart that would never be filled again. A month ago it would have been the pair's mother working in the garden, their father thatching the roof, leaving Severin free to take his small sister to the Moorebrook festivities

"Stop it, this isn't helping," the small voice at the back of Severin's mind called, snapping the boy back to the present.

"Severin! Come on!" Nemil called to him. He smiled again, and with a glance at the morning's bright sun, joined his sister in the garden.

For the next three hours Severin and Nemil worked steadily in the garden. They pulled weeds and cultivated all of the vegetable and fruit patches so that, come harvest time, they would have food. Severin worried that his sister would tire of the work and go back to her games, yet every time he looked over at the girl she was working, a large smile always on her face, as if the work were it's own game. The sun was high in the sky when they finished, leaving the whole day for the pair's adventure in Moorebrook.

"Can we go now Severin?" Nemil's eyes were brighter than ever, matching her dirtier than ever hands. Severin looked at the girl's smile then her hands and shook his own dirty finger in her face.

"First we need to wash those filthy hands," he pointed, much like their mother had used to, at the noted hands, forcing a giggle from Nemil. "Then I want you to eat some lunch, we don't have the money to buy any food in Moorebrook." Nemil nodded eagerly and ran off to follow her brother's instructions. Severin wandered into the large bedroom and found himself staring at the large bed that he and his sister shared. Before her knew it Severin was lying down, drifting blissfully into a dreamless sleep.

Waking, Severin was forced to shield his eyes with one dirty hand, the sun bright through the bedroom's open window. The sun's rays disturbed the waking man for he knew that it would have to be mid to late afternoon for the sun to be visible through such a low western facing window. Realizing that this was the case, and how long he had slept, Severin sat straight up, his eyes wide.

"Nemil?" His voice was louder than necessary and there was a touch of fear at the answer he might, or might not, get. Nothing responded. No giggle, no tell tale pattering of feet, nothing to suggest that the child was anywhere near. Severin sprang off the bed, tearing through the small house, searching for the girl. In the kitchen he found a place set for the long past lunch which he had missed, his bread and cheese still sitting untouched on the table. He called Nemil again, but it was clear she wasn't in the house, so he rushed outside. The garden was as clean and still as it had been three hours ago when Severin and Nemil had finished with it, no trace of the child anywhere.

"She must have gone on her own, to Moorebrook," Severin's voice was sure as he spoke aloud to himself, this time getting an answer from the voice at the back of his head.

"Well then, go after her!" It seemed to shout at him, in the voice a warning of trouble that his sister could run into, or already had. He nodded to no one and quickly made his was across town to the forest's edge.

Even before he reached Fontrack's main street, Severin could sense something not right. At first he couldn't tell why, then it struck him: It was silent. At this time of day the street should have been filled with sellers, buyers, playing children, gabbing mothers, but there was nothing. Rounding the last bend, Severin ran onto the street, but froze, now knowing why it was so silent. The street was void of people. Wears and toys had been dropped, as in mid transaction, mid game, as people had fled from something. A stray cat picked its way through a crushed crate of tomatoes, the box having been dropped and subsequently trampled by what must have been a mob of villagers. Severin stared, mouth gaping, talking the entire ramshackled scene in, and trying to piece together what exactly could have caused such a rush of destruction.

The rattle of shutters drew Severin's attention and his eyes met those of a woman. She looked shocked to see the boy, and gestured wildly for him to come, then vanished again. Severin, knowing the woman, and wanting to know what had happened as quickly as possible, ran to the small shop's door, where he could hear the woman unlatching the many locks keeping it closed. Severin's eyes were locked on the door as it slowly crept open and a single green eye, huge with fright, peeked between the door and it's frame.

"Severin!" she half whispered, her voice shaking with shock and fear. "What are you doing out in the street? Get back to your house and lock you and Nemil in tight!" Her words moved so quickly they were hard to follow, even more so considering she hadn't opened the door fully yet. Just hearing the fear in the woman's voice changed Severin's brotherly worry into a dread and fear deep in his gut.

"What happened?" Severin's voice was nearing hysteria, even with so few words. "Why is everyone hiding? What's going on?" The woman was silent for a second of shock; it was easily recognizable that her mouth had dropped open.

"The coach in Moorebrook," she told him hurriedly. "It wasn't a regular coach. It was them, the Duvioso Twins! It was a miracle that Regalt made it here alive to warn us." As she spoke the evil name Severin's eyes grew to match hers, the fear mirroring her own.

"No," he almost mouthed the words, a slight whisper on his lips and his eyes seemed to drift, no longer looking at the woman. "Nemil," Then he was gone, turning and racing towards the trees so fast that he almost fell before righting himself and dashing away.

"Severin! Come back! You'll be killed!" The woman shrieked at his back, but he ignored her and kept running. Severin knew she was right. If he was caught death would follow, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was Nemil.

Severin ran on and on, not pausing for anything. All he could think of was Nemil, in danger, in pain, or perhaps even dead already. He pushed that thought aside. She had to be alive, she just had to be. His fear gave Severin speed and the half and hour's journey went by in nothing. Then Severin could hear screams, the screams or Moorebrook. The sound filled his ears, was all around him and he knew that he was near the village. His footfalls slowed, his heightened senses trying to pick up Nemil's voice or the sound of her flight, but another sound caught his ear. Breathing, heavy, labored breathing. Severin froze, letting the sound envelope him, then he followed it, pushing through the tangled vines, thorns tearing at his skin and clothes until he was covered in thin red scratches. The breathing was getting louder and his speed increased, then he spied it, out of the corner of his eye, the tip of one scarlet braid.

"Nemil!" Severin screamed, rushing to and falling at the girl's side. She was alive, the labored breathing had been hers, but the damage was great. Nemil's face was covered with small scratches, like those Severin bore, dirt mixed with soot, and a trail of deep red blood, not yet dry, ran like tears from her closed right eye. Her dress was covered in soot and scorched as if she had stepped too close to the fire pit. Right below her heart the wound seeped, creating a pool of blood around her dying body. It was as if someone had cut straight through the child, the hole in her chest stretching all the way through to the ground below her, the cloth around this hole still red with sparks of flame. Severin couldn't breathe as he looked down on his sister, realizing the hole had intersected her lung, causing her heavy and now squeaking breaths. Nemil coughed, her eyes opening to reveal that her right eye had been ripped out, causing the trails of tear like blood do her face.

"Severin," Nemil's voice was weak, barely audible over the so close screams. She took a scratchy voice to speak more, but broke into a fit of coughs, each sending convulsions through her broken body. Severin took a staggered breath, slipping his hand under his sister's head, lifting just enough to give air passage through her blood filled throat. He tried to find words, anything to tell Nemil that would comfort her, help her, soothe her, but all he could do was watch as she struggled to speak.

"Severin," she managed at last. "I'm... I'm sorry." her voice was becoming weaker and more fragile with every word, she knew it as well as Severin did, but she still went on.

"I went on my own... I should have waited... Or at least tried harder, to, to..." her words were broken, having to breath between every few, but her punctured lung couldn't keep up with her words and she had to stop. Severin was shaking his head, tears beginning to pour down his cheeks.

"No," he told her. "Never, I shouldn't have slept, I should have followed faster," he paused to wipe the tears from Nemil's good eye, which had begun to block her vision. "I could have been a better guardian, I jus..." his words dropped off as Nemil raised one hand and took hold of his shirt.

"I don... I don't want to be alone Severin," then she broke into another round of coughs. Severin watched her little body writhe in agony with each cough, unable to help, unable to do anything but watch. As the cough died down Nemil's eye met Severin's and she smiled. It was a weak smiled, tainted by pain and fear, but a true smile.

"I love you," her words were a faint whisper, audible only through a break in the screams and Severin knew they were the last words he would ever hear his sister speak. The labored breathing had stopped, her chest was still, her one hand dropping from Severin's chest back to her side, and her one eye was locked straight ahead, the retina contracting and the glassy surface beginning to glaze over.

The world had stopped. Severin could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart and the sound of his heavy breaths. He watched, as if from out of his body, as two crystal tears fell from his eyes onto Nemil's upturned face, and as he wrapped his arms around her small body, pulling her close. He cradled her body gently within the folds of his arms, rocking her back and forth, as he had when lightning split the sky and frightened her into his embrace. Everything had been stolen from Severin. First his parents, his friends, his love, then his sister, the only one he had ever thought could never be taken away. Severin had no idea how long he sat there, rocking his baby sister's body. Sound had returned to him, but the only sounds it brought were those of screams. He finally released her when the screams ceased. Lying Nemil's body gently back down Severin turned towards Moorebrook and ran, drawing his knife as he went. The Duviosos weren't going to get away, not after what they had done, not after what they had taken from him.

The distance left to Moorebrook was shorter that Severin had expected it to be, but he was glad it was. As he burst through the foliage he could see the black carriage and three blurred forms moving around and preparing to leave. He changed direction running for them, rage filling his eyes and taking over his body.

"Murderers!" He screamed his voice almost inhuman. The figures turned to look at him, this outcry somewhat of a shock to them. One of them, the uncloaked old man drew up a crossbow as Severin neared the trio, and Severin could see that he was short for his many years and that his ears were soft and round. This old man was human. The other two cowled figures each raised a hand, and the old human lowered his weapon. Severin was still rushing at them with alarming speed. He watched as the dark pair moved their raised hands forward, towards him, then let out a cry of shock as he found that his body was immobile. The pair dropped their arms, but Severin remained locked in place, then they drew back their black hoods, wicked smirks adorning both woman's blood red lips. They were, as Severin had both hoped and feared, the Duvioso Twins. Their raven black hair, colour matching that of their sinister coach, was cropped at their shoulders; parts of it tied up in hoops and rings atop their heads, but done so well that there could be no difference told between the two. Their slender faces and blood red lips matched to, but their most disturbing feature was that of the Duvioso eyes. A trait passed down in their evil family, the twin's eyes were completely black, no sign of colour or pupil in them at all. Severin stared at these eyes, feeling as if he were falling into their pools of evil, a sickening feeling that made him quickly look away.

"Murderers you say?" Their voices were sickly sweet, thick like honey, but smooth and rich at the same time. They looked at each other, their matching faces like a mirrored image.

"No one's ever called us that before," One twin said, seeming to ignore Severin as she spoke to her sister.

"No one has ever spoken to us before," the other answered. "Begs for mercy excluded of course." Then they looked back at Severing, those black pools enveloping him once again.

"What makes you say such a thing boy?" Severin didn't even hear the question, so lost was he in their pair's eyes, then a sharp pain in his back awoke him to the world. "What?"

"My sister!" He shouted back at them, squirming, as to escape the invisible hands that held him. "You killed her!" The twins shrugged and began to walk towards the captive elf.

"Possible, we kill a lot of people," They smirked at this, as if it were a joke that only the two of them got. "Who was this sister of yours?" Severin was nervous about them getting closer, finally realizing the kind of trouble he had gotten himself into. He didn't want to answer their question, but an invisible force, like the one that held him, made him to answer.

"Nemil, my baby sister. She ran here without me." Severin bit his lip, why had he told them that? The twins smiled again, this time with recognition, their eyes taking in the blood, soot, and thorn scratches covering Severin for the first time. They were just a few feet away now.

"You must mean the little red headed girl," their voices took on a new tone with these words. From sweet to wicked, it was as if their love of pain rolled of their tongue along with the words. "Yes, we killed her." Severin struggled more fiercely, rage building again.

"I did actually," one twin said, raising a hand where a ball of fire materialized. Its size was the same, Severin realized, as the gaping hole that had been through his sister's body. She smiled smugly as she watched Severin's eyes grew with realization. "Cileess is my name."

"I," the other twin spoke, holding out an empty hand to reveal long, deadly, red finger nails. "Only sent her pain, and removed her eye of course." she twisted her hand savagely, at the same instant pain exploded in Severin. It was everywhere and he couldn't escape it. "I'm Joitair," Through silted eyes Severin saw Cileess toss the ball of fire at his legs, then felt the cloth ignite. The twins released Severin's body and it fell to the ground. The pain subsided and he slapped the flames on his legs out, then stood, blade ready, and faced the twins, his eyes burning with rage.

"Don't toy with me," the words came through clenched teeth, full of fury. The twin's smiles fell, becoming a pair of angry frowns, then they were gone, somehow vanishing back to their place near the coach.

"Then we won't," they said in unison, their voices dripping with distaste. They each held up a hand, as Cileess had done before and a ball materialized in each hand, but these were not of fire, but of a black, tar like substance, as dark as the twin's eyes. Severin ignored the back orbs, his rage to great to allow anything to slow him. He rushed forward, knife raised, a shout like a battle cry rising from his throat. The twins threw the orbs when he was about half way to them. The black spheres rushed faster than Severin's eyes could follow and he skidded to a stop, trying to avoid them, but he wasn't fast enough. The black stuff hit his body and he watched in horror as they spread like fluid, then vanished, soaking, as it were, into his body. Severin was still for a moment, waiting for something to happen, some advert reaction to the substance, but nothing did. He smiled and rushed at the twins again. His eyes suddenly picked up that the females he was rushing at didn't look worried, not even angry, they were smiling. Severin realized why when pain hit him, a burning pain that seemed to spur from his heart, then it began to spread, the pain so great he began to scream, like the people of Moorebrook had.

"It's called 'black fire'," the twin's voices were in his head, though they still stood over ten feet away. "Our own invention, do you like it?" The pain exploded, flames burning inside Severin's body licking and scorching his skin from the inside. Then the world started to fade into blackness, the pain seeming to evaporate away.

"Goodbye boy," The women's words echoed in Severin's head then he lost all senses, his body collapsing into a heap, only to be enveloped and devoured by rich orange-red flames, leaving only ash.

Severin was dead.