I didn't mean for her to die. I never wanted Ophelia to perish. For her body, made mortal by the touch of her hand to the mist within me, crumbled like a toppling doll emptied to a shell as her soul rose in soft, golden light.
She hovered there a moment while everyone gaped at her in surprise, myself included, before she flashed out of sight, appearing yet again, but this time with her hand holding Nero's. It was her soft, thin wail, rising in volume and terror, that finally broke the silence, even the storm hovering overhead fallen still in the wake of her death.
My sisters fled first, running in large groups, screaming in fear from me. Cadence was the last to go, her own fear clear, her stare directly into my soul that of a stricken child with her innocence destroyed. And then my broth
