As Nyka approached the center of their hideout, her smile broadened.
She couldn't wait to tell her father that the “Heir” didn't return — his Heir and the strange thing he had brought here with him.
That mortal.
Useless.
It was good riddance!
They were both gone, now sanity would return.
Nyka couldn't wait to tell the people about this, to watch their faces lose hope and finally realize that the only ones they had were indeed themselves. She couldn't wait until their silly form of happiness would finally evaporate and be replaced with something real, just like it had happened to her many years ago.
They must see it without any fog of doubt or hope in another entity, they must see things as they truly were.
But as Nyka approached the center of the cave, she realized… something was wrong.
There were many people lined up outside the curtain that led to Gamama’s cave room.
Slowly, the smile on her face vanished and her heart began to race. The noises were beginning to face away and she could hear the beats.
Something didn't feel right.
Some people turned to look at her, like they knew something that she didn't - something that would ruin her.
Anger rushed in her veins for what they had above her - the knowledge of what was going on.
Fear tightened in her throat and she frowned.
“Get out of my way.” She pushed someone and the rest easily parted the way for her. Before she could rush into Gamama’s cave-room, her father stepped out, dropping the curtain quickly behind him before he stopped her, his hands holding her arms.
“What is going on?”
He didn't say a word, but his eyes did.
“Father—”
He pulled her into an embrace, patting her back gently. When he spoke, his voice was filled with grief.
“It was quick. It happened too fast. There was nothing we could do.”
Gamama…
She pulled away from the embrace immediately and rushed into the cave room.
There she was, Gamama, dead on the bed.
The very essence of life evaporated from her and at that moment, she felt something in her heart shatter. Her lips trembled and tears ran down her cheeks.
Nyka had witnessed so many deaths that she had learnt to live with it. Gamama used to tell her that they had gone to a better place. But how good was that better place that it would require all that pain to finally earn the peace of it.
“It was quick.” Her father said from behind her.
She balled her fists by her sides, the tears still flowing down her cheeks, her face emotionless.
“What happened?”
“We were talking and she just died.”
“Just like that? She was fine before I left.”
“She was in the Mortal’s mind, to help them find the Gem.” Nyka turned to her father abruptly, her eyes filled with questions.
That had happened?
“Where are they, Nyka?”
No. The death she was rejoicing had finally come to hurt her.
“If the Channeller is gone, does that mean—”
She didn't answer her father, instead she took one last look at the Gamama's lifeless body on the bed and stepped out to the people still waiting outside.
“Tonight, a soul departs from us!” She announced it to them. “We have lost one of us, a strong pillar. The Channeller is gone but she will always remain in our hearts.”
She could hear them ask for the Heir.
At a time they needed hope but no! She would give them the truth instead.
“Your Heir is gone. The Channeller was to lead them by being in the mortal’s mind but now she is dead! Do you know why? Because they are dead too. They killed our Channeller. She is dead because of them. Wake up! Their short presence has brought this much damage!” Then her voice fell into a somewhat silence. “There is no Heir coming to save us, we are what we have! We are our own saviours. We fight for ourselves. There is no prophecy—”
Her father pulled her aside, pushing her into the arms of one of his subordinates. The subordinate pulled her to a side where she finally cried.
Tyrek wouldn't have allowed his daughter to talk for so long but he was shocked by this news that she had conveyed.
The Heir was dead?
That wasn't what the prophecy promised! His wife didn't die for something as weak as this! His eyes found the Priest who was on the floor, holding an injured hand. The light in his eyes had faded away.
Tyrek looked away, the questions of the people floating into his ears.
“He is dead?!”
“No way!”
“But Nyka just explained it!”
“This can not be! He is the Heir!”
“Be at Peace, please. Everything is under control.” Leader Tyrek held out his hand and they fell silent. “They will come back. Our Hero will return not until then, we must be vigilant and be ready to fight even more than before. We will continue our fight and they will join us—”
“When?”
“Soon,” was what Leader Tyrek said but his voice cracked while he spoke and they knew what he was trying to do.
He was trying to give them hope, something to live for, something to make them feel like they weren't alone.
But they were.
They were alone, with no Heir and no saviour.
They grieved the loss of two things that night.
The death of the Channeller and their hopes.