The princess secured Viviana in her arms before her knees gave out beneath her, pulling her tight to her chest. She summoned every thread of magic she could find as she lowered her down, every fibre of her soul to push into her twin, but nothing happened. Ilyana's sister didn't have any strands of life to sew back into her wounds. Her power bounced off of her, rushing back into her veins.

"No. No, please." Ilyana reached for her necklace, hoping it would give her some guidance to push her through and help heal Viviana, but it lay cold and dormant against her palm. It was devoid of its usual blue, instead tainted with a leeching grey.

Her twin choked on a mouthful of blood, yet her hand secured Ilyana's with an upward curl of her lips. "I'm glad I got to see you again." She barely got the words out before her life faded from her eyes, her smile eternally plastered in the princess' memory.

She shook her shoulders, her fingers trembling as silent sobs wracked her chest. "Vivi?" As the pool of blood grew around them, soaking into her dress, Ilyana buried her face into her sister's shoulder and screamed.

For the twin she thought she had lost. For the twin she hadn't been able to save that night and hadn't been able to save yet again.

Ilyana understood now why her father hadn't wanted to look for his lost daughter. The unyielding pain of bringing someone back into your heart only for them to tear out another chunk when they left again was unbearable. It was a fire that ravaged her body, burning her alive with anguish and lament. The unruly flames of sorrow left nothing in their wake, turning the hope of the family she wished to be reunited into ashes.

A hand landed on the princess' shoulder and she shoved it away. "You killed Vivi."

"That wasn't Viviana, not anymore," Clove answered after a moment of silence. "One of you needed to die for the Necromancer's Curse to end, and so, that murderer was the first on the list to go."

She didn't want to let go of her sister, frightened that if she did, she would slip even further out of her grasp. Yet, she stood. Blood dripped onto the floor, trickling from the hems of her skirts, as she walked towards the window that overlooked Wyrith.

The summer sky, now clouded over with rolling storm clouds, was still tinted purple. Waves of shimmers rippled above them, keeping the island contained.

The wall was still there.

"You were wrong." Ilyana's chest constricted with another surge of tears. "Vivi died for nothing." She wiped her face with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of crimson in its wake.

"Then that means that wasn't actually her. Morana was pretending to be her, using the disguise of your sister to get close to you." The captain took a hesitant step toward the princess but made the smart decision to stay where she was.

"She wasn't here to kill me. Or anyone, for that matter." Ilyana was sure of it. She knew her sister and that wasn't something she would do. "What if she came here to get help from us? What if she was forced to work for Silas and she wanted our resources to help her escape? Instead of the support she sought, she was met with the end of your sword." She settled beside her twin once more, kneeling in the now cooling blood and tucking a purple strand of hair behind her ear. "Look at her and tell me this isn't Vivi."

When Ilyana thought of what her twin would look like after a decade of being apart, she had imagined something close to herself. Golden hair with luxurious curls, light freckles that could only be seen up close. That was the girl who loved to challenge everything in her path. However, Viviana had a wild mane of violet — a colour that reminded her of their mother. Her freckles were a deep constellation across the bridge of her nose, darkened from hours spent in the sun. Scars marred her skin in every fashion possible, some were small nicks while others had been long gashes.

As an unnerving quiet wrapped around them, the princess' fingers trailed down the shirt that Viviana was wearing. Unfastening the top two buttons, she searched for the confirmation that her magic demanded. Was Clove right? Was she really not her sister? There, above her heart, was a jagged scar where she had been stabbed that night. It was faded, but the evidence still held true.

Ilyana thought she could trust Clove. After what happened, her sudden return to Wyrith after years of foreboding silence and a new promise to make it up to her, she thought she would do her best to keep it. The captain helped her find the sorcerer, she stayed up all night with her to make a plan to find her sister and now she had killed her.

The first time she had seen Clove again, she had known she couldn't trust her. A deep feeling in her gut had told her it wouldn't end well. There were too many secrets perched in darkness on her shoulders that she didn't seem to want to share. She should have listened to herself when she had the chance.

"I'm sorry, Illy," the captain whispered.

"Don't ever call me that again. I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear your voice, I don't want to feel your presence anywhere near me." The hollowness in her heart was replaced by a growling anger. "Leave, Cloven."

The captain moved backwards toward the door, her expression unreadable. However, before she could fulfil the princess' command, running footsteps approached from outside the library. They grew louder and louder, the sound of weapons being unsheathed following suit, until they entered.

"Where is my daughter?" King Mortas' voice shook the room, rattling the shelves. His words only shattered Ilyana's heart into further pieces.

"Over here, Your Highness," Clove replied, empty of her infuriating smirk and easy demeanour.

Her father rounded into the aisle they were in and stopped when he discovered his daughter kneeling in blood, when he saw Morana The Cursed — the woman they had been trying to track down and capture for years.

"Father," the princess' throat bobbed, "Vivi is gone."

The king looked behind him and motioned two guards forward. "Take this body and leave it in the dungeons, it will be dealt with later."

"Like, lock it in a cell? Or..." the first guard questioned.

"Just take it." A bitter edge coated his order.

"Yes, Your Highness!" The other guard saluted before making his way towards her.

"No. You can't take her away again." It was just like that night. After it was confirmed that her twin was dead, she had clung to her the same way she did now. As the guards had surrounded them after the assassination, nobody could pry Viviana from her arms. Not even her father. In the end, she had only let go of her body after passing out from crying.

"Ilyana," her father crouched beside her, grievous despair flashing in his eyes. "Morana The Cursed is not your sister."

"How do you not recognise your own daughter?" she seethed. "This is Vivi and Clove killed her."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ilyana noticed a Fireborn standing in the doorway that had been propped open with a helmet. Not the king, but the prince. He looked at her twin in horror, pressing a curled fist to his mouth as if to stop himself from retching. Damian's brown skin was abnormally pale, his body swaying until it leaned against the doorframe. She swore she saw a tear trailing down his cheek before he turned and left.

The guards approached the king's side, waiting to take her sister. Using her diverted attention as an open opportunity, they reached for Viviana, King Mortas holding his daughter back from grabbing her again.

"Vivi!" Ilyana fought to break free from her father, but her body no longer had any strength left to save her. "Please, don't take her."

"She's gone, Ilyana. She's gone." Mortas stroked the back of her head, running a hand through her hair. The gesture would usually soothe her, it always had when she was a child, yet now it had no effect.

As she looked over her father's shoulder and watched the two guards haul out her twin's body between them, she spied a black, velvet box on the ground — the one Viviana had shown her to prove her identity, their mother's ribbon resting inside. Ilyana reached out with a weak swing and managed to secure it, holding it tight to her chest despite the blood that oozed from it.

If only she had tried to push Clove away. If she had pulled the captain away from her sister in time, maybe she would still be alive. Their father would have seen her and their family could have been whole once more. As much as it could without Queen Oleress, anyway.

Now that dream had been stolen from her again and it was all because she hadn't acted.

Her sister was gone.

Chapter Word Count: 1,551
Total Word Count: 58,619