An Elf's Tale, Part 21

Nothing else seemed to matter. 

Every sound, every feeling, everything—as if sucked away from reality, a reality now a void of nothingness, a blackness, an emptiness. 

If not for instinct, a pulsing impulse rapidly coursing through her, she would have remained frozen in place. Forgetting her position, forgetting her circumstance, Eshwlyn bolted forward.

Her voice pierced through the storming silence, but she did not remember shouting her name. A dampness smudging her vision, but she did not remember the tears falling for her sister. All that mattered to her, all that she knew, was that Lenora was here, was right there, and that she needed her, now more than ever. 

She needed to be there. She needed to reach her, hold her—there were cuts on her pale skin, bright bruises swelling on her sunken cheeks—she needed to tend to them, she was always frail, she did do well with pain, they must hurt so much, too much… save her… please save her…