sanctuary | on hold indefinitely

twenty-five | thunder

There would be no fires tonight. The heavens had opened long before Filix had bound the small group of Naturals to the thick tree trunks. He skulked around them now, swivelling the obsidian dagger between his fingers, rain pasting his black hair to his face. Five pairs of eyes the colour of the damp soil beneath their feet followed him, glimmering with fear as he stopped in the centre, where they could all look upon him.

"It's my first time dealing with Naturals," he murmured as though to himself, black eyes fixed steadily on the blade in front of him as he toyed with it. "You're a hard bunch to track down: you blend in too well, I think, with those dull eyes."

The Naturals were gagged, unable to do anything but groan and whimper in response as Filix pressed the edge of the sharp blade into his finger and spun the hilt. The one at the front looked no older than sixteen, her damp clothes clinging to her small frame, fear so visible on her face that Farah could taste it on her tongue.

"Strange," Filix continued, "that you use rain to express your distress—that all of us do. For me, blistering heat and beating sun is far more uncomfortable. Rain?" He grabbed the chin of the teenaged girl, baring his teeth. "Rain is calm, cool. Rain awakens the earth and tends to the plants. Rain should not be a sign of fear."

As though in response, thunder rumbled from directly above them. Farah looked up in surprise. The black clouds were swollen above the canopy of leaves, threatening to pop at any moment. Despite the ice she had been unable to melt in her stomach since last night, she grinned at it, the taste of electricity sizzling on her tongue as it began to build.

"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" Filix drawled, dropping the girl's chin and taking a step back as he surveyed her trembling figure. "I think we'll save you until last."

He idled to the next tree, where a middle-aged man shook against his bindings, his shirt torn and his tattooed chest bared for them to see. He shook his head as Filix's blade kissed the dark skin of his shoulder, eyes squeezing shut in pain. Words, pleas, tried to escape his mouth, but they were trapped by the black cloth tied around his face. Another crash of thunder protested above them, the rain pouring down and forcing the dying leaves from their branches.

The static caused the hairs on Farah's arms to stand on end now, more so as Filix plunged the tip of the blade into the man's stomach, teasing for what was to come. As though in protest, the rain poured harder, a relentless shower that soaked through Farah's clothes. She was glad for it, held her head back and opened her mouth to let it in, to taste it. It did not taste salty like normal rain: it tasted metallic, like blood. Their blood.

Filix's eyes met hers as she brought her head down a moment later. To her surprise, he was smirking at her, enjoying the sight of her basking in the downpour. Her stomach turned to ice: she could not smile back, not after last night. Still, she nodded, and he took it as his cue to finish the Natural off, burying the blade between the man's ribs. His eyes widened as it penetrated the cavity in his chest, the life leaving him all at once. Sagging against the rope that bound him, he was gone, and the sky mourned by sending down its first bolt of lightning.

The sky flashed a violent shade of purple as the thunder rumbled again, closer this time. Farah narrowed her eyes and knew immediately that the teenaged girl had caused it. She could practically feel her brimming with the earth's power, as though it was soaking into the soil with the rain, turning everybody's bones cold.

As though sensing Farah's interest, he held the knife out for her to take. This time, she did not hesitate, grabbing the hilt. Her boots squelched in the saturated dirt as she made her way to the Natural girl, ripping off her gag forcefully.

The girl whimpered. She looked even younger now, her pale cheeks still filled out with youth and immaturity. "You're more powerful than the others," Farah stated, pressing the point of the blade into her finger. The sting it caused as it bit her cold flesh was a welcome reprieve from the hollowness in her chest. "Why?"

"Please," the girl begged, eyes brimming with tears that were lost with the rain. "Please, don't do this. Let me go. Let us go."

Farah's lips curled crookedly as she inched closer so that her face was mere inches away. "Look at me. Look at my eyes. Do you honestly think you have a chance in hell of that happening, girl?"

A groan sounded behind her: another one taken by Filix, the sound of a life being lost so familiar that Farah didn't need to turn around and look to know. Lightning shattered through the sky again, the tree branches rippling with the impact.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I do. I see it in you. You're not all Dark, are you?"

Farah frowned, the words taking her aback. "What did you say?"

"You're not all Dark. You're not like him." She spat out the word as though it tasted foul on her tongue, eyes sliding past Farah to where Filix tormented another of them. "You're part-Healer. There is kindness in you yet."

It was only then, when they were so close that Farah's forehead almost touched hers, that she saw the white flecks in her brown eyes, the pale ring around her irises, only just darker than the whites of her eyes. There was Seer in her.

The Natural took Farah's silence as a chance to continue. "You are wondering if you can fix what has been broken—what you broke. You can't, but you can stop yourself from making the same mistake twice. You can spare one life to make up for the one you took. Better than to take two. Let me go, Healer. Please let me go."

Farah swallowed, the sound of Filix taunting the others overtaking the pulsing in her ears. If he saw that she was Split, he would tear her limb from limb, turn her inside out, make her suffer for longer. She inhaled through gritted teeth, her voice flat as she finally replied. "I'm no Healer."

The blade sunk into her flesh too easily, her last breath escaping her in a mangled sob that was smothered by another crack of thunder. It was above them now, the trees swaying maniacally as the sky struck the world with its bright white mourning.

"What is your name?" Farah asked without knowing why. She had yet to pull the blade out, and blood curled around Farah's hand as she gripped the hilt in place, the relentless rainfall blurring her vision. It felt like talons clawing down her skin: the last fight the girl had in her.

"Kate," she whispered, barely audible. And then, "I know you do it for him. You think eventually it will get easier. It won't. I see your repentance. I see a path for you, yet. Follow it. Please, follow it."

"You talk bollocks," Farah muttered, pulling the blade out. It drew a guttural cry from Kate's throat, pulling whatever it was she had to say from her lips and leaving nothing but silence. "Some Seer you are, love."

The sky cried out again, over and over as she and Filix finished their job. The forest was flooding and the world darkening by the time the rain had washed the last of the blood from their hands.