The flame rears up, up, and goes out.
Huddled under blankets coarse as sandpaper, Isabella’s violet hued eyes blinked into the darkness. It was too late. The girl was gone. Still, she couldn’t help but look the horizon for a sign, something to tell her there was a chance.
Turning her pale hands downwards, the flame reared up once again, bathing the cavern once again in a faint light. Isabella sighed. Where were the others? Surely they would be there soon, to mourn. Although it was not in their blood, she knew they were fully capable.
The Elementals were not known for their kindness. The destruction they left behind in their path was evidence enough, but they had never intended for the girl to die. They needed her, for reasons only Isabella knew. She was useful. And now she is dead.
Although the notebook would still be there, next to a defunct Caroline. All hope was not lost.