I slept well into the evening, actually dreaming for once.

I was in a forest, not here, but somewhere else. The trees were different. There was a group of nine soldiers, and two little girls. One looked to be almost a woman, and the other was a younger version of the first. They must be sisters.

The older one was holding the younger one, putting herself between the girl and the soldiers.

“Leave us alone,” the eldest said, trying to be brave, but unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“So pretty. I bet you just love being fucked, don’t you, bitch?” said one of the soldiers, grabbing the eldest by her braid.

“I don’t know, man. This little one could fetch us a fair price with Lord Manchester,” said one of the other soldiers, yanking the younger one out of the first girl’s arms.

“Ember!” the little girl screamed, reaching for the older one.

The soldier held the younger tightly against him, where her squirming got her nowhere. The older one fought the soldier holding her hair, punching and kicking. Eventually, she bit his hand, and he yanked her backwards.

“Bitch. Even though you don’t deserve it, you get to serve me,” he said, forcing her to her knees.

“Close your eyes, Violet!” Ember yelled at her younger sister.

The little one did as she was told, shutting her eyes tight.

The soldier with a hold on Ember’s hair loosened his belt and let his pants drop. With one hand he forced Ember to open her mouth, while two of his buddies held her arms and legs. Ember tried to squirm away, but the three men were stronger than her alone.

When her mouth was open, the first soldier shoved himself in. I could hear Ember choking, and could see the tears running down her cheeks. When the man finished, Ember was left, trembling, coughing up fluid. The little sister was released and ran over to her older sister.

Ember lifted her head and tried to smile.

But all I could see were her gray eyes.

I woke up, fangs dropped, lusting for the blood of those soldiers. I gripped my sheets, getting myself under control and convincing my fangs to retract before getting out of bed.

Ember. She was the girl with the gray eyes.

I grabbed my clothes and yanked on the leather hurriedly, then nabbed my cloak and ran towards the gallery.

When I skidded through the entrance, I stopped and stared at my painting. It was the exact same woman, except a few years older.

Then something caught my eye, something I had never noticed before. Ember was wearing a necklace with a red gemstone. I quickly moved closer to examine the stone. It was a ruby, but it had the symbol of...no, it couldn’t be. They were all dead.

My hands shaking, I ran out of the room and towards the basement, where my family kept all of our precious things. I accidentally ripped the doors off of their hinges in my haste. When I was inside the clustered room, I weaved through items until I reached the back, where there was a small, ordinary looking pewter bowl. I grabbed my baby and ran towards the kitchen, coughing up dust while doing so.

I blew all of the dust off once I stopped, then stuck the bowl under the water pump and pumped once.

A lot of water landed in the bowl, splashing over the sides, but enough remained that I could still use the bowl.

I set the scrying bowl on the table and pulled out a stool. I placed my trembling hands around the bowl, muttered a few words, then looked at the water.

It had turned a cloudy gray, which meant that it still worked.

Praying I was right, I told it, “Show me an elemental witch.”

The liquid swirled and changed color, until I was seeing a woman riding on a paint horse, stiff, watching the carriage beside her. There were soldiers in red and gold uniforms surrounding her, but they didn’t hold my attention. She did.

She grew tenser, and I saw some of the soldiers glance at the carriage. I tapped the bowl once, and then I could hear.

Occasionally, a scream of pain would come from the carriage, and every time the woman flinched, as if she shared in that person’s pain.

I moved the view so I could see her face, and let go of the bowl when I saw those gray eyes and the ruby necklace.

It was true. Ember was the last of the elemental witches.

I chewed on my lip as I thought about the forest she had been in. Why did it look so familiar?

Placing my hands back on the bowl, I urged it to show me the same person. When she appeared on the liquid again, I paid attention to the vegetation around her. There were still screams coming from the carriage.

It was familiar because that was the forest around my family’s castle.

They were headed to me.

My dream was coming to me.