Vow of Vengeance

The stench of ozone and burning earth still clung to the air, a acrid perfume of devastation. Smoke, thick and greasy, coiled around the skeletal remains of what had once been a thriving forest, a place of dappled sun and whispered secrets. Now, it was a graveyard. And in its heart, amidst the wreckage, lay Daisy.

My Daisy.

The world had tilted, then fractured, shattering into a million jagged pieces the moment I saw her. The vibrant green that usually pulsed around her, a living aura woven from the very essence of the forest, was gone. Replaced by a sickly pallor, a stillness that screamed louder than any battle cry. Her eyes, usually so full of light and life, were closed, forever closed. And the small, delicate hands that could coax a flower from a hardened seed, that could weave vines into shields stronger than steel, were now limp, lifeless.