Chapter Text
“There was a time, not very long ago, when we lived in an enchanted world of elegant palaces and grand parties. The year was 1916, and my parents, Oritel and Marion, were the king and queen of Domino…”
As the carriage came to a smooth halt in front of the grand doors of the Royal Palace of Domino, Daphne felt her heart pounding in tandem with the loud and cheerful music that emanated from the palace. Delightfully nervous, she clutched her purse and felt for the gift within for the millionth time with restless fingers.
Oh, she couldn’t wait a minute longer to see the blinding smile that would surely adorn her sweet sister’s face at the sight of it, let alone the elated gasp and series of wingbeat-like claps that would follow when she showed her all its intricacies and secret purpose hidden in plain sight.
Simply imagining her reaction made her giddy with excitement.
It was then that her husband Thoren opened the carriage’s door, bringing her out of her musings, and held out a hand for her with a flourish and a gallant smile.
“Your Highness,” he said, pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles as soon as she placed her hand in his. “I trust that the driving was satisfactory enough for your liking?”
Daphne giggled. “Indeed it was, thank you.”
“And the driver?”
Smiling coyly, she pretended to think for a beat. “Mm. He was adequate, I suppose.”
With a low chuckle that sent Daphne’s heart aflutter, Thoren helped her down the two-step ladder before giving her a slow yet smouldering kiss that had her melting into his gentle arms like matching pieces of a puzzle coming together. It was during moments such as this that she felt as though they had been married for a couple of days rather than five wonderful years.
“I take it back,” she breathed against his lips. “The driver was more than satisfactory, too. Although, this begs the question, my good sir… Does he also extend this courtesy to all of his passengers?”
Thoren’s coral blue eyes twinkled with mirth and affection. “Only to the Crown Princess of Domino, Your Highness.”
“Really now?”
“Mh-hm.”
“What a coincidence, then,” she whispered with faux surprise. “You see, I just so happen to be the Crown Princess of Domino.”
“What a coincidence indeed.”
As much as Daphne wished she could stay with him like that all night, they had a ball to attend and a little girl to surprise. So, with a fond smile, she gave her husband one last kiss before pulling away from his tender embrace and heading towards the entrance of the palace.
And if her hips swayed a little more than usual as she went, that was nobody’s business but her own.
Her smile widened when she heard Thoren sigh adoringly behind her, and it widened further still when he rushed over to her side and placed a hand on the small of her back as they made their way through the endless stream of guests that greeted them with deep bows and curtseys.
Upon reaching the ballroom, the orchestra hit a familiar crescendo that brought Daphne back to her childhood days spent dancing in this room with her parents and nobles from all around the realm.
Overcome with emotion, she craned her neck to search for her sister amidst the sea of people swaying from one end of the dance floor to the other. She also kept an eye out for Princess Stella of Solaria and Princess Aisha of Andros just in case, for if her mother’s monthly missives were to be believed, her sister had grown close to them over the past year and the girls were like three peas in a pod now.
“We were celebrating the three-hundredth anniversary of our family rule and my sweet sister’s eighth birthday. And that night…”
After what felt like an eternity, she finally caught a glimpse of fiery red hair flowing like flames some ways off the centre of the ballroom when a group of dancers broke off for a few moments between songs.
Next to her, Thoren followed her line of sight and gave her a knowing smile. “Go,” he whispered into her ear. “And don’t tease the birthday girl too hard.”
Giggling, she pressed a little kiss to the corner of his lips. “I shall try.”
“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m sure you will.”
The two parted ways, and Daphne followed after the glimpses of red hair like a moth to a flame. An amused chortle left her when she found her sweet little sister prancing round and round a young girl with long white hair tied up in a high ponytail that seemed to cascade down her back like a waterfall of fine silk. Upon closer inspection, she realised that the girl was dancing as well, albeit in a much more discreet and subdued way.
Her sister didn’t seem to mind, though, as she grabbed the girl’s hands to spin herself, then the girl, and then both of them at the same time with a smile that could melt even the most ancient of glaciers up north.
Then the girl gave a soft, breathy laugh that made her sister glow with a radiance that put Solaria’s fireworks festivals to shame.
“No star burnt brighter than that of my sweet Bloom, my dearest younger sister…”
Smiling, Daphne clapped at the girls’ impromptu dance to announce herself.
Bloom looked over, her cyan eyes widening upon seeing her. With a squeal that could be heard over the blaring trumpets of Domino’s royal orchestra, she gave the girl’s hand a soft tug and ran over to her while yelling her name time and again.
“Daphne!” she said, “Daphne! You’re here! You’re really here!”
Daphne opened her arms just in time to catch her sister into a hug. “I promised you I’d be, didn’t I?” She moved back and cupped her sister’s freckled face in both hands. “Happy birthday, little dragon.”
Puffing her cheeks, Bloom whined, “Daphne! I’m eight now; I’m not little anymore!”
“Ah, but you’ll always be little to me.” Unable to stop herself, Daphne pinched one of her cheeks and said in a teasing lilt, “My precious little sister.”
With an embarrassed squeak, Bloom broke away from their hug and rushed back to the other girl’s side, her hand reaching for hers again.
The girl startled, a look of surprise crossing her face, but she didn’t pull away.
Curious, Daphne studied her, taking note of her somewhat angular features and her unblinking icy-blue eyes. Or were they a blueish grey? It was hard to tell when she kept glancing over at their joined hands. At first glance she appeared to be older than Bloom, though not by much, a year or two at most. But there was something closed-off about her, something almost cagey as she stood tall and proud and poised in contrast to Bloom’s palpable puppy-like vibrance, her gaze cool and piercing in a way that made Daphne shudder ever so slightly.
A northerner, Daphne realised after a beat.
And not just any northerner, if her apparel was anything to go by: a teal blue velvet gown with snowflakes etched along the bodice and a dark blue cape with fur lining the shoulders and the Snegurov family crest, the four-winged ice wyvern, embroidered on it.
No, this girl was—
“Anyway!” Bloom said in a slightly squeaky voice, her face about as red as her hair. “Daphne, this is my new best friend Icilia! Icilia, this is my older sister Daphne!” She pouted. “Oh, but don’t listen to anything she says; Daphne simply loves to say embarrassing things to poke fun at me!”
—Icilia Snegurova, the sole heiress to the Empire of Dyamond.
But of course, Daphne thought, watching in amusement as Icilia gave Bloom a bewildered look. Leave it to Bloom to befriend the most reserved princess in all of the realms like it’s nothing.
Her sweet sister was going to take the world by storm one day, of that she had no doubt.
Icilia curtsied, the gesture smooth and regal and leagues better than Bloom’s famous clumsy bows. “It is an honour to meet you, Your Highness,” she said, the contrast between her soft voice and her strong accent only slightly jarring. “Mother and Father speak highly of you.”
Ah, Empress Gwyneira and Emperor Isveig, the most no-nonsense and upfront members of the Council of Magix. Well, that was quite flattering!
Raising an eyebrow, Daphne looked at Bloom. “Is that so? How odd; I was under the impression that Princess Stella and Princess Aisha were your best friends.”
“They are!” Bloom smiled at Icilia. “So is Icilia now!”
Icilia fiddled with the end of her cape in silence.
“What about me?” Daphne let out an exaggerated gasp and put a hand over her heart. “Oh, I see how it is now… I’ve been replaced, haven’t I?”
Bloom pouted. “What? No, of course not!”
Great Dragon above, her sister was much too adorable for her own good.
“I know, little dragon, I know. Please forgive me; you’re just so fun to tease.” Smiling, she returned Icilia’s curtsy. “And please, the honour is all mine, Princess Icilia. Thank you for indulging my sister and her overenthusiastic whims.”
Icilia nodded flimsily. “You are… welcome…?”
“Daphne!” Bloom whined again. “Stop embarrassing me in front of my friends!”
Chuckling heartily, Daphne raised her hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. Would you like me to leave you two to your dancing?”
More like bouncing, really, but pointing that out would’ve been far too cruel.
“Yes!”
“Your wish is my command, Your Highness.” Making a show of clutching her purse with a resigned sigh, she turned around slowly. “I suppose I shall keep your birthday gift all to myself, then. What a pity.”
“A birthday gift?” Bloom gasped. “Daphne, wait!”
Yes, she was much too adorable and predictable for her own good.
Before she could turn back again, Bloom skidded to a halt in front of her, dragging an increasingly uncomfortable-looking Icilia along.
Oh, this poor girl…
And yet, she didn’t even try to free herself from Bloom’s grasp.
“You brought me a gift?” Bloom said, her previous pouting and whining nowhere to be found. “From Magix?”
Daphne bit back a smile. “Who knows.”
“What is it? Can I see it now? Oh, Daphne, please let me see it. Please, please, please.”
“You must be a terrific influence, Princess Icilia,” she joked as she opened her purse with deliberate slowness. “It’s been quite a long time since Bloom was this well-mannered.”
“That’s not true!” Bloom hurriedly told Icilia, her eyes wide. “I always behave myself, I swear!”
Taking pity on Icilia, who looked on the verge of an hysteric episode as she very obviously tried to come up with an appropriate response to Bloom’s assurances, Daphne pulled the gift out from its confines and held it out towards her sister.
Her gambit worked brilliantly, for Bloom’s attention turned from the flustered imperial princess to the golden box glinting beneath the candlelight in less than a blink.
“Being the Crown Princess of Domino, I was often expected to take my family’s seat in the Council of Magix to prepare myself for the day I ascended the throne. As such, I would spend weeks, sometimes even months, away from Domino every now and again.
My sweet Bloom, bless her, would always beg me not to return to Magix whenever my duties called, so I had a very special gift made for her to make the separation easier for the both of us.”
As expected, a blinding smile overtook Bloom’s freckled face as she reverently grabbed the music box and inspected it from every angle possible to and fro. Not unlike a little dragon looking over the newest addition to her hoard.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice thready with emotion. “Icilia, look!”
Carefully, almost skittishly, Icilia came closer and peered at the box. Her pale lips parted slightly in awe while she stared at it.
“It is very pretty, princess,” she said, nodding. “Is it a jewel box?”
Bloom tried to open it to see its interior only to find that the lid refused to budge. Harrumphing, she twisted and tugged at it, her tongue sticking out as she did.
Next to her, Icilia looked vaguely amused by her stubbornness, if nothing else.
“Daphne,” Bloom muttered, “I think the box is broken.”
At long last, the time for the big reveal had come.
“May I?” Daphne gently took the music box from Bloom’s hands and winked. “Look.”
Giddy, she took off the golden necklace she wore for this exact moment and used the little four-leaf clover pendant as a key to wind the box.
After three twists, the lid came open, a miniature replica of their parents holding hands rising to the surface as the soft notes of a familiar tune began to echo around them.
“A music box!” Bloom let out a joyful gasp and clapped her hands. “And it plays our lullaby!”
“You can play it at night before you go to sleep,” Daphne said with an adoring smile, “and pretend that it’s me singing.”
Daphne reached for Bloom’s left hand and swayed it to the rhythm of the tune. After a few notes, she started singing along:
On the wind
Cross the sea
Hear this song and remember
Bloom picked the music box with reverence once more before joining her, using Daphne’s hand as an anchor to spin herself with:
Soon you’ll be
Home with me
Once upon a December
Upon finishing their little duet, Bloom twirled on her heels with fervor and offered her her clumsiest curtsy to date.
Behind her, Icilia politely covered her mouth to hide her smile, her icy-blue eyes twinkling as she watched Bloom’s arms flail around like a puppet on strings before she managed to regain her equilibrium.
Biting her lower lip so as to not laugh at her poor sister, Daphne handed her the pendant and urged her to give it a closer look.
With a toothy smile, Bloom brought the charm to her eye level and read its inscription: “Together in Magix.” She gasped. “Really?!”
“If you want.”
Crying out, Bloom threw herself at Daphne once more. “Yes! Oh, Daphne, thank you!”
Daphne closed her eyes, tightened her arms around her sister, and basked in the warmth of Bloom’s love for as long as she could.
For as much as she and their parents joked that Bloom was the Great Dragon reincarnate, it was undeniable that her sister was warmer than the average person. Like a hearth, almost.
Like home.
After a while, Bloom pulled away and turned to Icilia.
“I’m going to put the music box in my room,” she told her, reaching for her hand again, her freckles spread far and wide across her face as she smiled. “Come! I’ll show you around the palace!”
Icilia blinked. “Huh?”
“We can look for hidden passages while we’re at it!” Bloom cheered. “It’ll be fun!”
“But, princess, what about the ball?”
“What about it?”
“It would be… um… improper! It would be improper to leave your own party.”
Bloom grinned. “It’s my family’s party, not just mine, so it’s not like anyone will miss me much!”
“You promised Prince Sky a dance.”
“But I want to explore the palace with you.”
And then Bloom used her secret weapon, the one she wasn’t even aware she possessed and which no human with a conscience could say no to.
The puppy-dragon eyes.
“Come on, Icilia,” she said, jutting her lower lip out ever so slightly. “Please?”
Icilia’s face went red as she stammered, and Daphne took it as her cue to step in lest Bloom started a war against Dyamond by accidentally killing its imperial princess with her tenacious puppy-dragon eyes.
“Don’t worry, Princess Icilia,” she said, offering her a reassuring smile. “If anyone asks for Bloom—or you, for that matter—I will distract them for a while.”
It was the only thing she could do, seeing as her sister was as stubborn as a hundred mules when she had a new whim stuck in that bleeding heart of hers.
Icilia gave her a look that was equal parts alarm and betrayal.
“You’re the best, Daphne!” Bloom cheered before hugging her. “I love you.”
Daphne laughed and kissed her forehead. “I love you too, little dragon. Now, off you go. And don’t break anything.”
“That was one time!”
“One time after the other, you mean?”
With an indignant squawk, Bloom reached for Icilia’s hand and rushed towards the staircases behind the thrones.
Shaking her head in wry amusement, Daphne set off to reunite with Thoren, whom she found on a balcony with her parents and his uncle and aunt, King Erendor and Queen Samara of Eraklyon.
Of course, she thought, her mood instantly souring. Just my luck.
Still, she took a deep breath and linked her arm through Thoren’s as she inserted herself into the group, thinking about Bloom’s ecstatic smiles to brighten up her own.
“But we would never be together in Magix, for a dark shadow had descended upon the house of the Dragomirs…”
An hour into a tortuous, stilted conversation in which King Erendor and Queen Samara insisted on getting Prince Sky acquainted with Bloom to strengthen the ties between their families further time and again, all the lights in the ballroom went out at the same time.
Suddenly, a chilly breeze took hold of the room, cold enough to make even the Snegurov family shiver.
With long and confident strides, a tall man with waist-length blond hair and chiselled features drawn into a smirk made his way through the ballroom, parting the masses of guests with his mere presence.
His presence, and the dangerous aura that clung to him like a second skin.
Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne saw Icilia inching closer to where Bloom was pulling away from Prince Sky, her eyes sharp and cautious as she followed the man’s strut.
“His name was Valtor… We thought he was a holy man, but he was a fraud! Power-mad and dangerous…!”
“How dare you return to the palace?” King Oritel bellowed, a hand on the pommel of the sword he kept sheathed at his hip. “Leave at once!”
Valtor tilted his head, his bangs framing his thin grey eyes. “But I am your confidant, Your Grace. My place is by your side.”
“Confidant?” King Oritel threw his head back and let out a boisterous, dry laugh. “My guards found some of your journals; you have been conspiring against my family whilst pretending to be a holy healer for years!”
A shadow flitted across Valtor’s face.
“This is your last warning: get out, now. You are hereby exiled from the Kingdom of Domino for eternity.”
Valtor sneered. “You think you can banish the great Valtor?”
“I do,” King Oritel said evenly. “And I have.”
“Very well.” Reaching into his overcoat, he pulled out an odd vial pulsing with an ominous indigo glow. “By the unholy powers vested in me, I banish you with a curse! Mark my words: you and your family will die within a fortnight! I will not rest until I see the end of the Dragomir line forever!”
With a foreboding roar, Valtor turned around and thrust the vial towards the ceiling. A purple beam of magic shot off its skull-like stopper and crashed into the great chandelier above.
Daphne’s heart stopped when she saw Bloom standing right underneath.
“Bloom!”
Darting forward, Icilia wrapped her arms around Bloom and yanked her back before the chandelier could crush her. As it crashed into the floor with a near-deafening bang, she turned them around to cover Bloom from the flying shards of glass and debris.
The sob of relief that escaped Daphne was akin to that of a weeping animal.
“Wretched brat,” Valtor spat, his eyes widening at the sight of the four-winged wyvern etched upon Icilia’s cape. “Dyamond’s imperial princess…”
Still holding Bloom to her, her face hidden on the crook of her neck, Icilia tilted her head around to meet Valtor’s glare head-on.
It was hard to tell whether the girl was dauntless or plain reckless—if not both at once.
Valtor’s eyes swept over the ballroom, watching with calm detachment as the guests hurried to place themselves between him and their loved ones. His lips curled into the husk of a smile.
“I place another curse,” he said, thrusting his wretched artifact up again, “on the realms of all the nobles present here tonight! Famine, floods, revolts and revolutions; may none of you know peace again for as long as I live!”
The artifact cast an all-consuming purple glow that blinded everyone for a brief yet terrifying moment.
When the glow vanished and the lights returned to normal, Valtor was nowhere to be seen, leaving a horrid miasma of fear and uncertainty in his wake.
“Consumed by his hatred for my family, Valtor sold his soul to the Ancestral Witches for the power to destroy us all…”
Just as Valtor had promised, catastrophes began to lay waste to the realms of the nobles that had been at the celebration during the days that followed. Not a day went by without a new tragedy hitting the headlines of every single newspaper.
First it was Andros, its ocean growing murky and volatile and sinking half of the mainland into its abyssal depths in a single tidal wave.
Then it was Solaria, its ever-sunny skies turning dark and thunderous as unprecedented storms shook its foundations for the first time in history.
Eraklyon followed soon after, a political upheaval plunging the country into a vicious civil war that forced all the noble families to escape to Magix to save their lives.
And then there was Dyamond, a sorceress with fangs for teeth and a deer skull with antlers for a face reducing the once-proud empire of the north to a frozen wasteland with no known survivors.
Nation after nation, kingdom after kingdom, empire after empire—they all fell like feeble houses of cards to the blast that was Valtor’s unrelenting wrath.
And Bloom, her sweet and innocent Bloom, took the news harder than everyone else, her blinding smiles turning into gutted sobs and her bright cyan eyes dulling into a lifeless blue that only shone with ever-falling tears.
“From that moment on, the spark of unhappiness in our country was fanned into a flame that would soon destroy our lives forever…!”
A fortnight after the celebration, the malevolent spirits of the three Ancestral Witches appeared in Domino and set the country on a cursed fire that could only be extinguished by spilling Dragomir blood on it.
Driven by despair and self-preservation, an angry mob took up arms and stormed the royal palace in the dead of night, their screams blending with the Ancestral Witches’ shrill laughs into a cacophony that heralded ruin for the once-beloved royal family.
The last Daphne ever saw of her parents was their loving smiles as they stayed behind to distract the mob and the witches to give her and Bloom time to escape, at peace even in the face of death.
With tears in her eyes, Daphne ushered Bloom towards the fleeing crowd of servants making their way through the halls.
They were almost at the grand staircase when Bloom gasped.
“Wait! My music box!”
Daphne could only stare in horror as Bloom let go of her hand and ran off in the opposite direction without so much of a word.
A few seconds went by before Daphne unfroze.
“Bloom! Bloom, no!” she yelled, running after her sister with her heart in her throat. “Bloom, come back! Come back!”
But Bloom, stubborn as a hundred mules, didn’t slow down—quite the opposite, in fact, seeing as she ran even faster.
Daphne, who wasn’t in the habit of swearing, couldn’t help the distraught “feck!” that burst through her mouth like a shotgun shot, her unfit legs burning with exertion as she reached Bloom’s room.
Without wasting any time, she grabbed a nearby easel and put it against the door’s handle to lock it in place. It wouldn’t hold, she knew, not against an angry mob and three almighty witches out for their blood, but it was better than nothing.
“Bloom, you shouldn’t have run away like that! You could’ve—” Daphne’s voice broke painfully in her throat. “You could’ve been killed!”
“I’m sorry,” Bloom mumbled, picking the music box up from her nightstand. “But I couldn’t leave without my—”
Someone yelled outside, deep and bloodthirsty, and the door nearly flew off its hinges as the mob slammed into it.
This was it; they were going to die in Bloom’s room.
Daphne shut her eyes, lamenting the futility of their parents’ selfless sacrifice and begging for their forgiveness. If only she had been quicker, more foresighted—
“Daphne! Daphne, let’s go!”
Startled, Daphne opened her eyes to find Bloom opening a hidden door on the wall right by her bed.
Daphne’s jaw fell to the floor. “What—? Why is there—? How did you—?”
A pained smile flashed across Bloom’s face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I… I found it… with Icilia…”
Feeling her pain as if it was her own, Daphne’s heart writhed viciously in her chest. She had no time to comfort Bloom, however, as the door was slammed into once more, the easel flying off its place against the handle.
With a startled gasp, Daphne ran towards Bloom and all but shoved her into the passage with less gentleness than she would’ve preferred.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bloom tucking the music box inside her coat’s pocket. Only, instead of going in, it slipped off, hitting the floor with a dull thud and vanishing underneath Bloom’s bed.
“No!” Bloom cried. “My music box!”
This time, Daphne was ready to stop Bloom from rushing back into her room. She caught her into her arms, restraining her firmly even as her little sister squirmed against her with every inch of her eight-year-old might.
“Daphne! Let me go! My music box—”
Kicking the door of the hidden passage shut, she yelled, “It’s not worth your life!”
“No! No! You don’t get it!”
“I can get you another—”
“No!” Bloom howled. “It has a note! It has a note on the lid! A note from Icilia!”
Daphne’s blood turned to ice. Her hold on Bloom loosened for an instant before tightening into a comforting hug.
“I’m sorry, Bloom,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “But Icilia wouldn’t want you to lose your life over a note.”
“But…”
“No buts.” The door to Bloom’s room was broken down with a bang, a flurry of footsteps and yells filling the space. In a quieter, almost inaudible voice, she said, “Come on. We need to go.”
After allowing Bloom a moment to mourn, they made their way through the winding corridors of the secret passage for what felt like hours until they finally emerged into the servants’ quarters. Seeing that the assailants were further inside the palace, they ran all the way outside and into the night.
“The train station,” Daphne muttered, her brain going a thousand miles a minute. “We’ll get on a train to Magix and disappear.”
Bloom sniffled. “You think we’ll be safe there?”
“I… I don’t know, little dragon.” She bit her lip. “I hope so.”
“All right…”
“Now, hold on tight to me and don’t let go. We’re going through the river.”
“What?!”
Gently yet firmly, she led Bloom down some stairs and onto the frozen Sparx River. With any luck, the prospect of falling into the river and dying a frigid death would deter anyone from following them anymore.
Bloom whimpered. “D-Daphne!”
“Nice and easy now, little dragon.” The ice whined under them, but it held so far. “It’s all right! Nice and easy now—that’s it, you’re doing great.”
But the moment they crossed Diana’s Bridge, Valtor appeared, jumping off one of its nymph statues and trapping Bloom beneath him.
Bloom let out a terrified yelp.
“Valtor!” Daphne’s blood turned into a roaring inferno in her veins. “Don’t touch her!”
“Let me go!” Bloom cried out, trying to kick him off her. She reached a hand out towards Daphne. “Daphne! Daphne, help!”
Valtor smirked. “You’ll never escape me, little girl. Your life was forfeited a fortnight ago.”
The three of them thrashed to and fro for a few moments until they heard it—
The unmistakable sound of ice yielding beneath them.
Be it poetic justice or their parents protecting them one last time from beyond the grave, only the ice under Valtor broke apart, opening like a maw ready to swallow him whole.
Taking advantage of this ironic turn of events, Daphne pulled Bloom away from him and the shattering ice with painstaking care.
In the meantime, Valtor was desperately trying to not be dragged into the river’s turbulent currents and failing miserably at it, his wretched artifact rolling far away from him when he needed it the most.
Daphne had half a mind to crush it beneath her heel, but she didn’t want to try her luck so many times in one night.
“Obscurum!” Valtor yelled. “Obscurum!”
To Daphne’s ever-growing horror, a bat landed in front of him while screeching, “Master! Master!”
“Obscurum! Do something!”
And yet the bat—oh Great Dragon above, the bat had talked like a human being!—could only stare as its master sank helplessly into the cold waters of Sparx River until there was nothing left of that cursed demon to salvage.
Seizing this opportunity, Daphne helped Bloom back to her feet and resumed their journey to the train station as quickly and carefully as possible. The distant sound of the train’s whistle going off spurred her to walk faster than she ever had in all her life.
Unsurprisingly, the station was crawling with people trying to escape the chaos like them, so Daphne gathered what little energy she had left and pushed her way through the crowd with all her might. The whistle went off again, only this time the train began to move, slowly at first yet gaining traction by the minute, so she thrust her hands out in the hope that the passengers at the rear platform would hoist her up and onto the train.
And they did.
The moment her feet touched the platform, she turned around to reach out for Bloom, who was running after the train with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Daphne! Don’t leave me!”
“Never!”
Daphne leaned over the rail as far as she could without toppling off the train, thus managing to grab Bloom’s hand.
“I’ve got you, Bloom! Just hold on!”
But as she uttered those words, the train picked up even more speed, wrenching Bloom’s clammy hand from hers.
“No…” Daphne muttered in horror. “No! Bloom! Bloom!”
With a harrowing scream, Bloom tripped and fell to the ground, forever lost amidst the increasingly frantic crowd of people running around without rhyme or reason.
“Bloom!” Daphne cried out, her voice and heart breaking into a million little pieces as the whistle went off one last time. She tried to jump off the train and go back to her sister, but the passengers around her held her firmly in place in yet another ironic twist of fate. “Bloom! Bloom…!”
“So many lives were destroyed that night. What had always been was now gone forever, and my Bloom, my beloved sister… I never saw her again…”
