CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO
“No,” I mumble, sinking onto the floor, dismayed. “How can this be?!”
I dig through the earth and desperate tears fill my eyes, “No, no, no, no!”
But there are no remnants of the flower.
I wipe my tears, crawling to the other side of the tree but it too has been destroyed.
Hopelessness is a terrible feeling.
These flowers are the only way to cure the effects of moonshine.
I rest my head against the Tree of Souls, mentally drained, the last dredge of hope, finally exhausted.
“I don’t want to die here,” I murmur, brokenly. “I want to go back to Damien. I don’t want to stay here.”
I can feel my tears dripping down my face.
“What kind of Righ am I?” I sob. “I can’t even protect myself or anyone I love. What use is this title to me?!”