Echoes of Friendship

The acrid smell of ozone still clung to the air, a phantom scent that made my lungs ache. Victory. That’s what they called it. The Elder Hero, his face a roadmap of weary lines, had clapped me on the shoulder, his grip surprisingly firm for a man who looked like he’d weathered a thousand storms. “You did well, Marylu. You saved us all.”

Saved us all. The words echoed, hollow and meaningless, in the cavern of my chest. I looked at my hands, still faintly tingling with residual energy, the same hands that had unleashed the storm that had… that had ended it. Ended *her*.

Daisy.