Forgetting all about the warning issued that stated that she, her mother, and originally her brother should not interfere with her father's punishment, Rahríténne abruptly stood and ran down to the edge of the Pit, using her Magick to appear by Sahaim's side. She felt hopefully for a heartbeat, but there was none.

He was dead.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks, yet she did not notice. Her brother would never grow up; or grow old. He would never return home, and would never again play in the streets beside their house.

Her father was still and unconscious, his breathing ragged as somewhere in his subconsciousness he fought to stay alive. But Rahríténne wasn't focusing on him. He had a chance, yet her brother did not.

Her father should not have let Sahaim jump in front of him. She knew that he was weak, but he could have at least faced the punishment that was meant for him.

Yet, deep down Rahríténne knew that this was not her father's fault. He could not have stopped what had happened any more than she could have.

But she had to blame someone, and the obvious person was the traitor who had been given the punishment for his crime.

If only he hadn't been involved with the Dragons in the first place. Everything would have been normal, and he would have come home sooner. Sahaim wouldn't be dead, and her father wouldn't be on the brink of death. She herself wouldn't be feeling like her heart was breaking, and her mother-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud gasp and murmurs that ran through the audience, who by this time were fairly confused as to what was going on. They had come to see a traitor being punished for his crimes, not a young, innocent boy being murdered.

But the whispers spread, and Rahríténne looked up in unease, scanning the crowd.

The cause for the commotion soon became apparent, as her gaze focused in on her mother, who was bending over, a silent scream evident on her face. Rahríténne used her Magick to leave the Pit, and she sprinted to her mother's side.

But it wasn't any use. Her mother did not even appear to recognize her.

Rahríténne wondered what could be wrong, then she remembered what her mother had told her, when she had been instructing her not to tell Sahaim.

"Finding out about his could kill him, or worse, the sorrow could render his Magick unusable. We shall figure out a way to make sure that this does not happen, but in the meanwhile, all I ask of you is to keep this to ourselves. Lie, if you have to. Just don't let him find out."

Rahríténne realised almost immediately the reason for her pain.

The death of her brother had rendered her mother's Magick unusable.

-

Ellisia writhed in agony, red hot pain shooting through her body. Every muscle hurt, and dimly she remembered that Demagicking was not the only painful experience.

Having your Magick stripped by grief was rumoured to be even more painful.

Now, she could she why.

It felt as if something was being ripped from her body, leaving a large, empty space- one which could only be filled by her Magick. But once your Magick was gone, you could never replace it.

It was gone for good.

Remembering all that she had been taught about Magick, she remembered that not everybody survived the pain of parting with it. Some died, some went mad, driven insane by the agony that it caused.

She could feel her Magick waning, and she gave up trying to fight her grief. A tear trickled down her cheek as she gave in to the pain. She wished that she had spoken to Rahríténne just one more time, even if just to say goodbye.

This thought gave her determination. She couldn't die- her daughter would be alone. She had to fight.

But it wasn't easy. She had already given up, and her body wasn't willing to accept that she had changed her mind.

She had known that the house had been watched, but she hadn't expected Sahaim to return home. She hadn't expected the wrath of the leadership to reflect on her son.

She managed to cling onto consciousness for a few minutes before her hand went limp in Rahríténne's grasp.

Her daughter shook her, willing her to wake up, but there was no response.

Yet Rahríténne didn't give up hope. She could still hear her mother's heartbeat, faint but steady. Her mother would pull through - she had to.

-

Eris'mal looked in disgust at the spectacle unfolding in front of him. His plan was unravelling, but there was a benefit to the chaos. He wouldn't have to dispose of the brother and the mother, as they had already sealed their fates.

That just left the girl. He had a plan for her- he would ensure that a couple of families didn't turn up for the clan meeting. Then, he could make sure that her family could not cause any more trouble.

Besides, he couldn't have any faeries with rebellious natures living in the Clan. The girl, Rahríténne, was a liability. She could force the fey of the clan to rebel, and they would, if they ever found out about what had happened to her brother.

It would end in lost lives, him stripped of his post and head of the leaders of the Clan, and much bloodshed.

He had seen it before- it had happened to one of his precessors. Admittedly, it was not an experience that he wanted to repeat, or to ever see anything remotely similar of it again.

So, the girl had to die.

He contemplated this, when a small cough sounded from beside him. Turning his head, he saw one of the fey guards who had left the Pit at the beginning of the second punishment, to try and find the brother.

The guard muttered something to him, and his face broke out in a nasty grin.

The perfect way to stop rumours of the murder of an innocent from circling around the Clan.

Standing up, he used his Magick to amplify his voice, and called for attention from the audience. They promptly quietened down, and every eye- including those of Rahríténne- focused on him.

"The reason for this... young faerie's death may not be clear to you, but I shall try to explain to the best of my ability." He began, staring into the Pit as he said the words.

"His death took place because of the lies that his mother and sister told." He gestured dramatically to Rahríténne and her mother, and was mildly surprised when Rahríténne ignored him. Shaking his head, a slight movement, he continued.

"His sister told us, the leaders of this clan, that he would be staying at a relative's home while the traitor was supposed to be punished.

"It would have been a trip that couldn't have been cancelled at short notice, and, as we are understanding about matters such as these, we allowed him to miss his father's punishment.

"But when we went to... examine the traitor's home, purely as a precautionary measure, guess who walked through the door, acting like he had no idea about going to stay with any relatives?

"The young son of the traitor did. So, as punishment for the family's dishonesty, we forced him to watch, hidden from his mother and sister's view, at the side of the Pit. He made his own choice to go in and save his father- we did not force him in."

He finished the speech, and muttered to three of his guards to take the traitor and his wife out of the Pit, to keep them imprisoned, so that Rahríténne couldn't heal them. He told them that she had to be taken to her house, and nowhere else.

The guards complied to his orders, taking the traitor and his wife out promptly, as they were still unconscious.

Rahríténne wasn't so compliant. She struggled as the guards dragged her from beside her mother, but eventually they managed to take her away.

Eris'mal collapsed into a chair as the audience dispersed around him.

All he had to do now was to work out how to ensure that Rahríténne's name was picked at the meeting, and how to get rid of her mother and father.

Not quite as simple a task as he had orginally thought it would be.

-

Rahríténne lashed out at the fey holding her, but although they winced, they did not loosen their grip. If anything, they tightened their hold on her.

Her mother and father were dying, possibly already dead, yet the leadership of her clan had forced her away, as if she were a common criminal, which she knew that she wasn't.

She recognised who the stranger was now. The ruler of the Dhére had probably been the one to order the death of her father in the first place, not Eris'mal. The realisation filled her with a kind of revulsion. He had no business in prying into the affairs of the clan... Although, she supposed that her father had been working with the Dragons to bring him down. Maybe he did think that he had a reason for attending.

But she didn't feel sad about her parents- nor did she feel numb.

She felt only a burning desire to avenge them.