THE UNBROKEN

When she awoke, Elena couldn't breathe.

Air was thick, wet and iron-tasting, like blood left too long in a bowl. Her mouth was open, gasping, but her lungs couldn't fill. The weight in her chest grew heavier, tighter, until it sparked panic.

She clawed upward. Her fingers scraped cold stone. The world around her was silent. No birds. No sea. No light.

Just black.

Total, suffocating dark.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Rubbed her eyes with burnt and swollen hands.

Nothing changed.

"Where-?" Her voice cracked. Her throat was raw, like it had been scoured by flame.

'Think.' She told herself. 'Don't panic. Think.'

Her mind fumbled through smoke.

Then she remembered.

The beach.

The ship.

The blast.

The screaming.

The fire.

Phineus.

Her baby.

Elena jerked upright, vision still pitch black, arms flailing. Her shoulder split open again, that cursed wound, and her body screamed in protest. But she ignored it.

"Esperanza?!" she choked. "Mija?!"

No answer. Just her ragged breathing.

Then… something small moved. A rustle. A whimper.

Her hand brushed against flesh, hot and trembling.

Then tiny fingers found hers. Clasped. Weak. Shivering.

"Oh… oh no."

She dropped back to the floor, curling around the source of warmth. Her daughter.

She felt the child's breath, shallow and rapid. Skin blistered, raw. Her legs twitched. The little one's curls had been singed down to brittle tufts. Every breath she made was a fight.

"Mami's here," Elena whispered, dragging the girl gently into her arms. "Mami's here, mija. Mami's here. Shhh. I've got you. I've got you-"

The child didn't speak. She simply whimpered. A sound so broken, so animal, it didn't sound human.

Elena rocked her as best she could. Her own body burned from the inside. Her skin peeled at the edges, bones aching from within, magic hanging off her like dying embers.

But she couldn't stop.

She pressed her palm to her daughter's chest, to her spine, to her brow.

"Please," she begged the gods. "Please, just let me take it from her. All of it."

She summoned her mana, what little remained, and poured it into the child. She didn't have time to shape it or shield herself. It cracked from her like lightning, uncontrolled.

She felt it tear through her reopened shoulder, mana pouring out like blood.

She didn't care.

The girl stirred, finally letting out a cry. A real one.

That was enough.

Elena's arms gave out.

She slumped to the ground, her back spasming from pain, her hands still wrapped around her baby. They lay together, burned and broken, breath syncing in uneven rhythm.

Her head swam. She couldn't tell if she was lying on stone, sand, or bone. It didn't matter. Only one thought echoed in her mind:

Why can't I see?

She blinked again, harder, digging nails into her palms to stay awake. Her eyes didn't respond. She pressed a finger against her eyelid.

Still nothing.

The darkness wasn't around her.

It was inside her.

"Why can't I see…?" she whispered.

Esperanza's breath faltered. She whimpered, curling closer. Even in agony, her tiny fingers sought out Elena's collarbone, the place she always touched to fall asleep.

Elena wept, silent tears sliding from empty eyes.

"Shhh, mija. You're safe. You're here. You're- "

She paused.

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"You're all I have left."

She laid her cheek against the girl's hair. The smell of scorched earth clung to them both. Her limbs were numb now. Her mana, gone.

She tilted her face upward, where the ceiling must be, though she couldn't see it.

"Why can't I feel you, my love?"

She meant Niegal.

She meant the gods.

She meant the ocean. The storms. The great divine presence she had once carried like a second skin.

Nothing answered.

No vision.

No warmth.

No whisper of waves.

Only silence.

Elena curled tighter around her daughter, drawing the child's slight weight into her chest like a lifeline.

The stone was cold beneath her spine. Her blood warm as it pooled out.

And then-

Darkness took her again.