Last of Her Kind (Book 1, Part 1, of the LAST series)

“Shhhh. You’re being too loud, Eira,” hushed a small voice.

“No, you’re being too loud, Clara,” replied another voice, just as small but sharper. “She should be awake by now, right? That’s what mother said!”

I groaned, stirring under soft blankets. Wait—blankets? I wasn’t in the forest anymore.

“She’s moving!” one of the voices squealed.

I opened my eyes to find two young faces staring down at me, wide-eyed. Twins. One with fiery red hair, the other with soft brown, both with tan skin and big dark eyes.

"Hi!" the red-haired one greeted loudly.

"Uhhh... hello," I replied, feeling awkward.

"I’m Eira, and this is Clara. Welcome to Direshare of Ascot," said the redhead, her voice full of energy.

Clara, the quieter of the two, gave a shy smile before darting out of the room. I could tell right away she was the timid one.

“She’s shy,” Eira explained, sitting at the edge of my bed without invitation. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” I muttered, sitting up slowly. I looked down to find my leg bandaged and my clothes changed into loose, comfortable ones.

“We found you in the forest!” Eira continued, her words tumbling out. “So, my mom brought you here. She wrapped your leg, and we almost got the apothecary, but then we saw your ears! You’re an elf, aren’t you? I’ve never seen an elf before. I thought they’d be taller. And have bigger ears! But you look normal, except for the ears. I mean, they’re big but not that big. Do you—"

“Eira, give the poor girl a chance to breathe,” said a warm voice from the doorway.

The woman who entered had mixed skin and curly black hair, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Mom,” Eira whined.

The woman chuckled, walking over to the window to let in some light. “I’m Annie,” she said, turning to me. “And you are?”

“Fae.”

“Well, Fae, welcome to Ascot. I hope Eira hasn’t overwhelmed you too much.”

“No, she’s sweet,” I said, managing a small smile.

“She can be,” Annie laughed. “We’re just glad you’re awake. You’ve been out for a day. Your leg wasn’t too bad, thankfully.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. “For helping me.”

"Of course," she replied. “It’s what anyone should do.”

The fact that not everyone would still baffled me.

"Come down for dinner, if you're feeling up to it," Annie added. “It’s just some soup, but it’s hot.”

I nodded, carefully climbing out of bed, my leg aching but manageable. As I followed Annie downstairs, the smell of cooking filled the air. Eira and Clara were already at the table, waiting eagerly for their mother to serve them.

Sitting beside Clara, I dipped my spoon into the soup, my appetite faint despite the inviting warmth.

“So, how’s your leg?” Annie asked as she served the girls.

“Better,” I said, glancing at the bandage.

“Good,” she nodded. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to recover.”

“Will Father be home tonight?” Eira asked eagerly.

Annie smiled at her. “Maybe, but don’t count on it. He has a meeting with the guardians and King Aeron at the palace.”

My ears perked up at that. “Guardians? They’re here?”

Annie nodded. “Yes, there was an attack in the neighboring kingdom of Penrose. Some soldiers were hurt, but thankfully the king wasn’t.”

My heart pounded. “Do they know who did it?”

“No,” she sighed, “but they’re investigating. It has the whole kingdom on edge.”

The tension in my body eased slightly at the news that no one suspected me—yet. But the mention of the guardians left a sour taste in my mouth. They would leave Ascot soon, but how soon?

"Let’s wait up for Father!" Eira pleaded suddenly, turning to Annie. "Please, we’ll be good."

Annie laughed. “Only if you finish your soup.”

The girls squealed in delight, shoveling soup into their mouths as I smiled faintly.

“I know what you’re thinking,” spoke the doppelgängers’ voice. “Let’s do it.”

I turned to Annie. “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to step out for some air.”

“Of course.”

I gave her a small smile, standing up from the table and walking out the door. I inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of nature. The house sat up on a hill, about a mile from the actual imperium. And it was massive, with the palace sitting in the distance. The forest sat across from it, having Annie’s house be the center of the two.

“They should walk back through the forest, yes?” I asked myself.

“Only one way to find out.”

I nodded to myself in determination as I walked to the forest. Making sure I was a good distance from the town, I leaned against a tree and waited. I watched the sky turn from orange, to pink, to purple, and now black.

I arched my back, cracking it. “Maybe we missed them or they went the other way,” I mumbled. Great. That went my chance to figure out where the celestials were.

I was ready to turn and head back when talking came from the distance. I hid behind the tree, listening intently. At least, I think it was talking. I definitely heard something.

The voices grew louder, filling me with excitement. I peeked around the tree to see two figures covered in gold armor. Yes. Guardians. One had long blonde hair, and the other had black hair.

“…good man, Draven,” said the blonde one.

Draven sighed loudly. “Kyler, you think every king is a good man.”

“I do not. But King Leon is a good man…just lost.”

I continued listening in on their conversation, waiting for them to pass. Once they did, I reached my hand out towards them, watching branches appear from the ground and wrap themselves around Draven’s foot.

“Whoa!” he cried, as he fell the ground.

Kyler began laughing boisterously. “Why don’t you use your eyes next time? We weren’t blessed with heightened senses for nothing.”

Draven let out curses, climbing back to his feet. Looking down, he groaned. “How did this even happen?” He began trying to free his foot, but it wouldn’t budge. He let out a frustrated sigh, looking at Kyler who had an amused expression on his face. “Well, you could help.”

Gold danced around my fingers as branches began slithering up his body, holding him in place.

“Let me takeover.”

“I got this,” I whispered.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” cried Kyler.

“Help me!” screamed Draven. The branches wrapped around his mouth, muffling his screams.

Taking out his sword, Kyler raised it up.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I spoke calmly.

He froze, looking around frantically. “Who’s there?!” he cried.

I walked out the shadows with a stoic look on my face. He lowered his sword, pointing it at me. “You,” he said angrily.

“Me,” I smirked.

“Let him go.”

“Oh I will. If you give me what I want.”

“And what is it you want?” he replied angrily.

“I need to know where the celestials are.”

He scoffed. “No.”

I held out my gold covered hand at Draven, causing him to let out a muffled scream.

“What are you doing?!” cried Kyler.

“None of your concern. Where are the celestials? I won’t ask again.”

He remained silent.

“Kill him. Or I will.”

“Fine,” I replied darkly.

Balling my hand into a fist at Draven, I watched as a large, pointed branch shot through his chest.

“No!” shouted Kyler.

I lifted my hand towards him, commanding a branch to wrap around his throat. “Should have just listened. Now, you will take me to the celestials yourself.” Dropping his sword, he clutched the branch, trying to rip it off him. “I will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Stop!” a voice yelled from the shadows, cutting through the chaos around me.

I froze, the fire at my fingertips dimming but still crackling in the tense air. My breath hitched as the temperature seemed to drop, a strange, cold fear snaking through my veins. Something about that voice... it rattled my core, like an old wound reopening.

"Let him go," the voice demanded again.

I threw a blast of fire into the direction of the sound, setting trees alight. “Show yourself!” I snarled, my voice shaking with fury and fear. I couldn’t let anyone control me. Not again.

Smoke curled through the trees as a silhouetted figure stepped forward. I raised my hand higher, ready to strike, but then… then I saw him.

The fire in my hand sputtered out, my vision narrowing as my chest tightened. "Sorin?" I whispered, my voice cracking in disbelief.

It couldn’t be.

The figure came closer, the flames illuminating his features, and my heart plummeted. His long hair, now grown out to his elbows, and those mismatched eyes, full of so much familiarity. The scar across his face… it was all the same. But it couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.

No.

“Sorin,” I choked, stepping back, the branch I had summoned unwinding from Kyler’s body, forgotten. My mind raced, my breaths coming shallow and fast. This wasn’t possible. I had watched him die. I had felt him die.

“Faeda, it’s me,” he said softly, taking another step toward me, his voice calm, steady.

My whole body trembled, and I shook my head furiously. "No, no, no," I muttered under my breath, backing away, my hands trembling at my sides. "This isn’t real. Not again. You’re not real!"

He reached out, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch was warm, so real. Too real.

I winced, slapping his hand away. "Stop it!" I hissed, fear and anger swirling inside me. "Do not do this to me again!" My voice cracked, the fury in me building.

“Open your eyes, oani," he pleaded, his voice soft, pleading.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind spinning. No. It was another trick, another illusion. Just like before. Another cruel joke from my fractured mind. "You’re dead," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You’re not real."

His hands cradled my face, and I could feel the weight of his presence, the undeniable warmth of his body so close to mine. "Please," he said, his voice trembling. "I’m here. I’m real."

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, uncontrollable and out of place. It sounded wrong, even to my own ears, but I couldn’t stop it. The absurdity of the situation, the cruel twist of fate that would make me see him again, made me laugh. A broken, hysterical laugh.

"I’m losing it," I said, my voice unsteady, my lips curling into a manic smile. “You’re not here. You can’t be here! I watched you die!” The laughter came again, but it was edged with something darker, more broken. I was slipping, I could feel it. I could feel myself slipping further into the madness that had been clawing at me for so long.

“Oani…” Sorin—this thing—began, his voice full of sorrow, trying to pull me back.

I snapped. "You. Are not. Him!" I screamed, my hand igniting with fire again. I aimed at him, at the face I had loved and mourned, but now filled me with such rage. The fire shot toward him, but he dove out of the way, rolling to avoid the flames.

"Please, Faeda!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. "It’s me!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, the laughter bubbling up again, high-pitched and unhinged. My heart pounded in my chest as the sky darkened further, clouds swirling in response to the storm inside me.

“I swear, it’s really me!” His voice was desperate, but all I heard were the echoes of my own madness.

“You’re lying!” I shot another burst of fire, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"Remember, Faeda! Remember me!" His voice was raw, filled with a pain that mirrored my own.

But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe it. The memories of Sorin flooded my mind—his smile, his laugh, the way he had held me—and they clashed violently with the reality before me.

I clutched at my head, my fingers digging into my scalp as I tried to block out the memories, but they wouldn’t stop. "Stop it!" I cried, my voice ragged. "He’s dead! You’re dead!" The laughter mixed with sobs now, uncontrollable, as I collapsed to my knees, clutching my head. “Please, stop!” I screamed into the void. “Stop!”

Something hard hit my temple, causing everything to go silent and for darkness to engulf me.