Lai woke up confused and in pain. The last thing that he remembered was a fiery roar, terrible heat, flying through the air, pain across his body, and screams. He was still in pain, but there was a cool breeze on his skin that was some comfort. It was quiet and dark, the only sounds were that of a woman sobbing some distance away. He could feel soft silken sheets over his exposed skin along with some tight cloth across his chest, arms, and legs. He laid there for a few moments trying to remember what had happened, letting his senses sort through his surroundings. The breeze carried the scent of herbs and he could feel a slight stickiness on his skin where the constricting cloth covered him. He could hear insects outside of the room that he was in, night insects. The sobbing was muffled as if through a door several feet away. He sat up slightly and looked around, his people had incredible vision at night and he could see rough stone hewn walls, a thick iron-bound wooden door, a dirty straw-covered floor, and a bucket in the corner.

He’d seen these rooms before, only a few times, but he was sure that it was one of the prison cells in the Royal Prison. realizing where he was he sat bolt upright and tried to get out of bed only to be met with searing pain across his body. He yelped nearly slid out of the bed but caught himself at the last moment and perched dangerously on the edge of the mattress. The bed was soft and fine, the sheets silk, and his bandages were freshly changed. He knew enough herbalism to recognize the smell of the mixture on his skin, they were to treat burns. His hazy last memories before waking came back, the verbal sparring with Paravis, walking out of the classroom, and then the explosion. His Eldritch Fire potion must have gone off in the class somehow. He was startled when the bolt on the door made a loud screeching thump which caused him to jump slightly sending a wave of pain through his body. Light flooded the room as the door opened and as his eyes adjusted he could see two slender figures standing in the doorway. He knew immediately who they were, his mother and his twin.

The two women walked into the room timidly and stood there for a second and then his mother quickly crossed the room and slapped him hard across the face. His vision blurred and lights flickered in his vision as a whole new wave of pain ran through his face, neck, and chest from the impact of the slap. His head rocked back and to the side and for a second he thought that he was going to pass back out.

“Mother!” his twin sister Laitherel exclaimed in shock.

“Stay out of this Therel, you can’t defend him this time! What were you thinking, Laimiris? Eldritch Fire? Not even Eldritch Fire, something even worse! Do you know what you have done?” His mother, usually the calmer of his parents, the more nurturing and understanding, screamed at him. He had never heard her scream. She was always there to defend him along with his sister. If she was this upset, his father… by the stars his father would execute him.

“Mother, I..” Lai stammered. He couldn’t make the words, he couldn’t think of an excuse, for the first time in his life he was left speechless.

“I managed to get your burns treated and cared for, though your father and the Chancellor insisted that you be kept here in the prison until you are fully healed. I’ve tried to do what I can for you but this time you have gone too far. You caused the deaths of seventeen people son, seventeen!” The last word was shouted so loud that it made his head rattle. Seventeen people. The Myst Elves haven’t suffered that much death in hundreds of years, not since the last war when the Ghorim tried to invade the Isle of Myst. Hundreds of Myst Elves died but that was nearly a thousand years ago. There had been an accidental death here and there, one or two separated by decades. There have even been a few who decided to fade, choosing to end their life and fade into the Summer Lands. Myst Elves, like most elves in Taleria, were immortal. They could die through violence but they never died of old age, instead, they could choose to Fade. This was a process where they literally faded out of this world and into the Summer Lands where the Myst Elves believed that they went when they died only to be reborn someday to this world, the Winter Lands as their religion referred to Taleria, to start their cycle anew. Seventeen though?

Lai’s head fell, his chin touching his chest. His stomach roiled and he felt nauseated, bile rising in his throat and splashing on the floor at his feet. His mother stood there still as stone, tears flowing down her cheeks. His sister, his twin, the other half of his soul stood in the corner of the cell with her arms wrapped tightly about herself. He could feel her emotions through the bond that they shared, anger, shame, and grief.

“What is father going to do?” Lai asked quietly.

“Your father hasn’t spoken to anyone in three days, Laimiris. That’s how long you have been here healing. He probably won’t speak to anyone until you are fully healed. That should be tomorrow morning, the Royal Physician has been treating your burns and expects a full recovery by morning. You’ve been asleep since you were found after the accident.” Her voice was now calm and regal, her royal voice. He had never heard her speak to him this coldly in his life, she even called him by his full name, she had never done that. She called him Lai and his sister Therel from the moment they were born. Two parts of a whole she used to say.

“Therel, it’s time to leave.” His mother said softly as she turned and began walking towards the door. His sister started to object but their mother held up a single finger and she silenced. Therel risked a glance at Lai, sorrow in her eyes, and then followed her mother out the door. He jumped again as the door boomed shut behind them and the latch slid back into place.

He leaned back, sick, ashamed, and miserable. Seventeen people… he couldn’t fathom it. It couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be responsible for the deaths of that many people. It was just a potion. He was just showing off his skills. Seventeen people, most likely sixteen of those had been the other students in his class. Sixteen children, none older than twenty-three suns, most ranging between his own eighteen and twenty-one suns. He had killed them. He killed them with his pride. He had killed them with his arrogance. He had killed them with… by the stars… he had killed them.