Keeper of the Lost Cities: Rebuild [COMPLETED]

Chapter Forty-Five - BIANA

Biana didn't know what world would put her through trauma of grief so deep she hadn't cried for five years, only to end with her fiancé dead and the distant memory of sobs so intense they'd left her numb.

She didn't know what world would put Dex through depression, only to end with him dead only hours after he'd promised they'd get through it together.

She didn't know what world would have Dex promise her anything at all, only to end with him never being able to fulfil it.

Except he'd promised many things. A life. Happiness. Love.

All of that was gone now. And she'd cried. For the first time in five years—the first time she'd been weak.

She hated that, but it was done now, and all that was left in its place was the rage. She wanted revenge—no, needed it. And she would have it. Maybe soon.

She felt cold, even as the fires haunting her recent memories were not changed with the leap. The beam of light had taken her and Keefe to the outskirts of Eternalia, just beside the golden path that led into the city. But in the reflections of the translucent buildings were flames—flames she saw when she turned around, flames on the Pures by the river.

Biana had been right; that was the Purities' goal all along.

There was no satisfaction in that now. Even with an extra patrol around the mini forest, the Purities had still found a way to set it on fire.

I will see you burn, she thought to the girl who'd murdered Dex. With the same fire you brought forth, you. Will. BURN.

She started sprinting for the Pures. Keefe called her name, but she ignored him, was afraid to look at him in case something in his face gave away his grief, and then she would fall apart.

She couldn't fall apart. Not now.

"Hey! You—Biana, right?" A boy, followed by another who appeared to be his brother, met her halfway. "The Pures have been coated in gasoline! Kedric and I, we're Hydrokinetics, we can't put it out with water from the river. Have any ideas?"

Keefe caught up to them. "What's going on?"

"Kesler Dizznee is preparing a large dose of quicksnuff," the older elf—Kedric—gasped, pointing down the riverbank to a table station. Two figures moved around it. "Lady Galvin is with him, but he needs his son's help too. We were just about to go searching for you, uh, Biana, is it? Since we thought you might know where he is?"

A scream caught in her throat, and Keefe's hand clamped around her shoulder, to keep her or himself steady, she didn't know.

"Killian, Kedric!" Kesler's unmistakable voice called. "I need you over here!"

The brothers raced off, and Biana was left with nothing. No feeling, no anger, not anymore. Part of her wanted to slip into a state where she could convince herself she was in a dream, but the other—she knew. He was gone, and she knew.

"Maybe I can help them somehow," Keefe suggested, starting for the alchemists—but he froze when Biana stiffened. Every muscle in her body responded to her mental command, born from the desire of vengeance, a raw and uncontrollable inferno.

Near the forest, there was a figure who'd materialized from a light leap. With the fire behind them, they only looked like a demon made of shadows... but that outline would not be one Biana forgot swiftly.

"Biana?" Keefe asked, but then the girl—the murderer—dashed into the burning trees, and Biana was suddenly moving, channeling all her energy into this hatred. "BIANA!"