She first heard the music just like everyone else had.

"What is that?" she asked, wiping off dishes from behind the counter. There weren't many to clean, given the small size and limited wealth of the inn, but they always tried their best to maintain it. Sundorham may have been a very poor village, yet they did their best to keep visitors satisfied as well as provide a place for villagers to drink after a hard day's work.

"Ah, probably the knights," an old man said, "Probably killed another dragon or something."

"I'm sure they'll carry on all about it with a beer when they reach us," Miss Nelson, the innkeeper, smirked as she patted Tricia on the shoulder, "Best make sure our steins are clean."

"Right," Tricia nodded, scrubbing harder.

The music grew louder as whoever played it approached. The sound of a loud drum banged. Still, most everyone ignored it.

"Wish they'd quiet down," the old man huffed.

Miss Nelson laughed, taking away his empty stein. "I'm sure they'll-"

There was another boom, cutting Miss Nelson off. One so loud, it shook the walls of the inn. Tricia dropped the plate in her hands, the tin making a clank as it hit the floor. An odd feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, but she brushed it off as being merely the sound of a drum and bent down to pick up the plate. As she did so, she quickly heard the sound of something whistling through the air.

Then everything changed. Before she could collect her thoughts on what it could be, she heard the sounds of screams and something crashing into the buildings. She turned around and saw it. Piercing the walls were arrows, lit by fire of strange colors unlike anything she had ever seen before.

The inn was the sturdiest building in Sundorham, the only one with a proper foundation. A thachet home would have instantly burst entirely into flames. Miss Nelson quickly ran and grabbed Tricia, assisting the young girl to try to escape, but just before the could the door was hit. It instantly bursted the whole area into flames. Miss Nelson turned to the windows, but before they could reach one, another boom so loud knocked them down. The sound of it was so loud that Tricia could hear nothing but the sound of ringing in her ears.

By the time they could collect themselves and stand back up, another round of arrows hit the inn, instantly blowing up the window in front of them. The entire four walls of the inn were quickly in flames. Some people were able to make it out. Those who didn't were trapped.

Tricia wasn't truly able to comprehend what was happening. Miss Nelson grabbed her again, forcing them both under a table in the middle of the room. She held the young girl tightly, burying Tricia's head into her chest and patting her back. Through tears, she told her it was going to be okay. She could hardly hear the older woman through the screams of others.

Although she couldn't see anything with her face pressed against Miss Nelson, she could feel the heat of the flames grow, approaching them. Another boom caused even more arrows to hit. A piece of the roof fell down near them.

"Patricia!" a voice desperately called out from the outside of the burning inn. She instantly recognized it as her mother.

"Mama!" Tricia screamed, instantly pulling away from Miss Nelson. Her throat hurt from the smoke, but not as much as it should have.

"Patricia?!" her mother screamed, "Tricia where are you?"

"I'm in here!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.

What was she doing hiding under a table? She had to get out. She had to go to her mother. And her father. And her brother. She had to find a way out.

"Tricia!" her mother yelled again, her voice clearly strained from sobs.

"Tricia, stay away from there!" Miss Nelson grabbed her as she ran closer to the flames, desperate to find a way out.

"My mom is out there!" she screamed hoarsely "She's out there and I have to go to her!"

"You can't walk through fire, Tricia," Miss Nelson told her.

"Then what are we going to do?" she asked. Miss Nelson had no answer, merely reaching out and touching the young girl's face. Tricia sobbed, hugging the woman who had helped her in the inn throughout the years, both going to their knees.

It was then that she realized the gravity of the situation.

There wasn't an escape. They were waiting to die.

In normal fires, it was said that breathing smoke killed most people, but not with this colorful fire. In most thachet houses in Sundorham, flames would consume everything quickly, making it fast. But here in the sturdier inn, they had to wait. All Tricia could do was squeeze her eyes shut, waiting for it to be over. She wasn't sure when she stopped hearing her mother's calls.

The screams were brutal, unlike the playful screams of kids running around having fun. They were bloodcurdling, unlike anything she had ever heard, and they were coming from the mouths of nearly everyone she had ever known. She tried her best to not distinguish them.

As parts of the ceiling fell in, eventually flames caught onto Miss Nelson's skirt. She instantly let go of Tricia, trying to put herself out. Tricia saw the flames rise up her dress but instantly Tricia squeezed her eyes shut even harder, and tightly wrapped herself into a ball as small as possible. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't acknowledge it.

She yelped when she could feel an ember reach the hem of her skirt, the heat of it apparent. But she stayed in the ball, keeping herself as still as possible as the tears ran down her face. There was nothing she could do. This was it.

The screams went on but eventually they died down, drowned out by the crackling of the flames and the sound of collapsing structures. She thought it meant that she died. She didn't know why it didn't hurt, but she figured that was just the way it was. Yet still, she was too scared to move or open her eyes. She merely stayed still.

She wasn't sure how long had passed, how long she stayed silently still in a little ball. It felt like hours, and perhaps it was, though the concept of time seemed to disappear. Yet eventually the silence was broken, replaced by the sound of footsteps and chattering in some strange language she never knew. She wondered if perhaps this was Heaven. She didn't check, still too scared to open her eyes.

Over time, the footsteps grew louder. They made cracking noises, as if stepping on sticks and snapping them. Much like her and her brother would do as they'd play by the riverbank. Maybe it was Craig. Maybe they would enter Heaven together, presuming it existed. If he was there with her, it wouldn't be so scary. Slowly, she raised her head up.

But it wasn't Heaven that she saw. If anything quite the opposite. Blackened wood littered the ground everywhere where buildings once stood. The ground was scorched all around.

It was undeniably Sundorham, albeit nothing like the village she had always known. All the plants, all the flowers, all the crops they had grown replaced by blackened nothingness. The thachet houses were completely gone, some without clear signs that the ever existed. And not a single person she knew was to be found.

She heard the sound of another footsteps and quickly turned her head. Sure enough there were people behind her. Instantly she grew hopeful. She couldn't have been the only survivor, could she? She quickly brushed the tears out of her eyes to get a better look.

Her hopes were instantly dashed. They were no one from Kupa, that was for sure. They were oddly dressed and quite lithe in build. Her eyes stung, but she tried to look closer until she noticed the ears of one pointing out from the side of his head. They were pointy-elven ears. These were elves.

As soon as she made that realization, she immediately let out a yelp. She quickly regretted it, putting her hand to her mouth. But it was too late-they noticed her and pointed her out in their strange elven language. She closed her eyes and tightened herself back into a little ball, even if she knew it didn't make a difference. She trembled as she heard footsteps slowly and gently approach her. She may have survived the fire, but now she was to join the others.

As they stopped right in front of her, there was a moment's hesitation. Then gently, a hand reached out and touched her shoulder.

The hand was calming. Like it was trying to comfort her.

After a few moments, she finally opened her eyes and raised her head. When she did so, green eyes looked directly into her own. Although she didn't relax, she couldn't help but notice that the eyes that were the exact same shade as her brother's.

But they weren't Craig's. This was an elf, one that beyond the eyes didn't look much like Craig at all. He seemed to be about the same age as him. Too young to be on a battlefield. His face was too gentle to be that of a warrior that just slaughtered a village. He slowly bent down and reached out a hand to her.

It was then it truly dawned on her the implications that she survived the fire. She was covered in soot and her dress was cindered, but somehow, some way she was alive.

The elf smiled gently and spoke in a strange accent. "Everything is going to be okay."

Tricia reached out and took his hand.

"That doesn't clarify anything," Craig shook his head, "Just like that. They burnt down our village and then one of them...offered his hand to you?"

"Kyle didn't know, Craig," Tricia insisted.

"Kyle?" he asked, "You mean the king?"

"Yes," Tricia nodded, "He took my hand and brought me here."

"Wait a second," Craig's eyes grew large, "All this time, while don't get me wrong, I did hate him, I gave him somewhat of a benefit of the doubt. You know, that it was his mother, the High Elf Queen, that attacked our village. I thought about how he was just a kid at the time. But now, you're telling me he was there?"

"Yes, but you're not listening to me," Tricia frowned.

"What's there to listen to?" Craig asked in a harsher tone than he meant,"That you ran off and lived the high life with our family's murderers."

"I understand how you think and feel, but it wasn't Kyle," Tricia said, "It was the High Elf Queen's fault. She wasn't a good woman, and Kyle is aware of that. He was aware of that even way back then."

Craig looked back at his sister. It was so undeniably her. Not just someone who looked like her. Her hair was the exact same shade of strawberry blonde with a small splattering of matching freckles across the bridge of her nose, her eyes the same light blue, everything. But older and more beautiful than she had been as a child. Partly because of how much healthier she looked, but he couldn't help but notice just how much she had grown to look just like their mother, with just a few hints of their father.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "I'm...I'm happy you're alive, Tricia."

"And I'm happy you're alive," she rolled her eyes and smiled, reaching for his hands, "And I've waited so long for you to finally come here. To tell you everything."

"I still-I still don't understand though," Craig took her hands in return as he kept looking at her face long and hard, "I don't get how you...you know."

"I told you," she smiled, tilting her head slightly, "It was you."

"But I never-"

"I know everyone tried to make me forget about the times you used magic," she said, growing more serious, "But I didn't. I may not have understood it at the time, but I didn't. I always remembered how you'd try to grow me flowers. How you'd levitate that rock around. When you…Well..."

"When I hurt you," Craig shook his head, "I blasted you. You weren't responsive for days." He could remember it as clear as day. Her body nearly lifeless. How his mother screamed, his father yelled. How he did that to her.

"That was when you saved me," she said looking directly into his eyes.

A wave of emotions hit him like a falling boulder. A weird mixture of joy, of course, but also a feeling sick to his stomach.

"I-" he let go of her hands as he looked away, "I just...I need a moment to process all of this, okay?"

"Of course," she said, "I know this is a lot to take in."

He walked to the edge of the railing and leaned upon it. From below, he could see what seemed like the entirety of the High Elf City. The many buildings in the distinct architectural style, the many shops with elven patrons going about their way, the homes people lived in. Untouched. Safe.

It was good that Tricia was alive. That like this city, she was safe.

"I take it you're who told them everything?" he asked as evenly as possible, still looking down at the city below, "Who I am, my magic...you know, all that."

"No," she said.

Craig abruptly turned back around. "What do you mean no?"

"No, I didn't tell them," she rolled her eyes, "I didn't need to tell them."

"What?" he asked.

"You still don't get everything about your situation do you?"

"Um, well," Craig thought, "I do know that I was sent on some dumb suicide mission by the Wizard. I know that you're actually alive. Related to that, I also just found out that, well...you know."

"What do I know?" Tricia's eyes widened.

"That…" his body somehow grew even more numb, "I guess my magic did do one thing right. So there's that. I guess."

"There is so much good your magic can do, Craig," she flashed the same crooked grin she always did since childhood, "You just don't know it yet. But that's okay, Kyle-he's willing to teach you!"

The second he heard the name again, his hands balled into fists, "Enough with that elf!"

Tricia huffed. "I told you, Craig. He saved me. He also saved Stan and-"

"He also helped kill our parents," the anger started to grow back inside of him, "You think I'd want to learn from that?"

"He didn't!" Tricia yelled back, "You really think the elven army would just open fire on a defenseless village?"

"Well yeah!" he let out an angry chuckle, "Wanna know how I know? Because I fucking saw it. You saw it. They burnt everyone we ever knew alive. They may have let you live, but if it weren't for that spell I apparently put on you, you'd be dead too." Tears began forming in his eyes. "Up until a few minutes ago, I thought you were dead, too. For all these long years, I thought that. Living on the streets, I saw you in every single little girl. I wished they were you, you should know." He relaxed his fists. "But they weren't."

Tricia walked over to her brother. Without a word, she hugged him once more.

"I missed you, too, Craig," she told him, "I also lost everyone that day. We thought...We thought that you were killed with everyone else."

"We?" Craig asked, breaking the hug to look at his sister once more, "Do you mean the elves?"

"Well, some," she explained, "Kyle, yes. Also Stan, who is obviously not an elf. It's...easier to understand now as being the High Elves now that Kyle is High Elf King, but...We'll explain everything to you. But for now you should know that even High Elf Queen Sheila, as bad as she was, she and her most loyal followers weren't intending to destroy a harmless village."

"Sending down deadly magic fire arrows sure got that message across," he rolled his eyes.

"They didn't know."

"That fire kills people? What, are you gonna tell me all elves are fireproof?"

"Listen to me," she scowled, "They were given wrong information."

"Wrong?" he practically yelled, "What do you mean wrong? By who?"

Tricia opened her mouth and shut it, as if she instantly regretted letting something out she shouldn't have. "By the Wizard," she finally admitted, "He told them...Well…"

"What did he tell them?" he grabbed his sister's shoulders, "That we had The Stick? We didn't."

"No," she breathed in deeply, "They knew exactly where The Stick was and got it. They were told where...where something else was."

"That. That fucking asshole intentionally destroyed our village?" he accidentally gripped his sister's shoulders painfully tight, though she didn't budge.

"Yes."

"But that doesn't make any sense," he let go of her, "We were just a small bumfuck nowhere farming village. What the hell could he have possibly said to them?"

"I can't tell you."

"What do you mean you can't?" he asked incredulously.

She paused. "I just can't."

"That was your sister?" Tweek asked in an uncharacteristically meek voice that evening in the main room of their shared quarters.

"Yeah," Craig said as he fiddled with his mother's necklace absentmindedly on the sofa. The orange stone caught the light of the sunset peering into the room and reflected an orange light from it onto the wall.

"Th-That's great news," Tweek gave a smile. It didn't reach his eyes.

"And yes," Craig stood up, "I was sent here by the Wizard to steal that stick back."

Tweek's face fell and he looked to the floor. "So everything-All that about wanting to bring peace-"

"Yep, a lie. I wanted to save the life of the only person I thought I had," he walked past him towards the balcony, "If I didn't do it, someone else would. And I'd be dead, and Clyde banished forever."

"I-I understand," Tweek insisted through a strained voice, "I can't imagine anyone in your situation doing anything else but…" He paused for a moment, looking up to Craig and then immediately away again. "But you have to understand that-"

"Understand what?" Craig turned back around, looking him straight in the eye, "That after I told you time and time again that I'm not a good person you still didn't believe me? How much clearer did I need to lay that out for you?"

"I still don't think you're a bad person, Craig."

"Bullshit," he laughed sardonically under his breath.

"I'm not lying," he said, sounding more like himself, "But I...I just...Need some time to think about this. Okay?"

"Do whatever you want," Craig shrugged. Tweek sighed, but went to his bedroom without another word.

After a moment, Craig pushed open the doors of the balcony basked in the autumn sunset. There was so much color everywhere, from the leaves on the trees to the bright red and pink sky. Tricia was probably watching the very same at that moment, wherever she was in this city. He didn't know where. No one trusting him with basic information was a common occurrence in his life, it seemed.

The sun lowered into the mountains. Craig stood on the balcony for a few moments in silence before heading back into his bedroom, carelessly tossing his hat against the wall. It was getting dark fast, but he lit a lamp in the room and sat on the soft bed.

There was a small hand mirror on a dresser next to the bed. It was intricate and he had figured it was more there for decoration and lavishment and up until that point he hadn't touched it. After staring at it for a few moments, he reached for it and brought it up to his face and let out his tongue.

He had gotten used to having that mark on him. He was conscious about keeping his tongue in his mouth when he talked and preventing anyone from accidentally taking notice of it, but beyond that it was incredibly easy for him to forget that it was there. But it was. Still as solid black and intricately laced with crisp lines as the day it had been put on him.

Magic had always been something that caused great pain and suffering in his life. His magic harmed others and only ever caused destruction. This seal was the best thing that ever happened to him. It prevented him from hurting others...or himself. In his mind, magic in general was something that was only ever bad news. It had caused most wars in Zaron, caused children to be ripped from their families, created terrible weapons that destroyed civilizations, and empowered greedy tyrants. He had agreed to eventually break his seal to help Clyde, but it was something he had feared and resented.

Yet magic was also the one thing that saved his sister. It had protected her from the flames that killed everyone else. If he had known, perhaps he could have studied duplicating it, perhaps protecting everyone within his village.

He sighed, placing the mirror aside. He turned off the lamp he had only recently lit, and laid in his soft bed, hoping to quickly fall asleep.