When I woke up, the flames had already claimed the village. The moon still shone bright as I hurried to get outside. Everyone was yelling, calling those who were asleep to help put out the flames. Throwing on some clothes, I ran out of my burning home into the chaos. My family’s small cottage burned amongst the other buildings. Instinctively, my hand flew to my chest to make sure it was still there. I sighed in relief as I felt the cold touch of the moonstone brush under my fingertips. sicuro, cassetta di sicurezza underneath my shirt.
    Relieved to find it still there, I ran to the river so as to help the other elves put out the flames. I grabbed a bucket da the trees and turned to the river. But the bucket was caught. I looked back to see what the bucket could be caught on.
    A hand gripped the rim. I looked around the albero to see who could possibly be playing such a prank at a time like this. The hand belonged a small elf who seemed to be asleep. I’ve seen him once and awhile playing with the younger elves.
    “Come on,” I detto gently shaking his shoulder in an attempt at waking him. “We’re all tired, but we still need to help with the flames all the same.” He fell on his side. “Stop playing,” I scolded and reached for him, and found the arrow.
    It was buried in his back. I hadn’t seen it before because of the dark. I snatched my hand away, a cold feeling grabbing hold of me. I looked around to find help, and instead I found the others.
    They covered the ground leading to the river. They had come for water to put out the fire, just as I had. But something had ambushed them. It was nothing like I had ever seen before. Their blood mixed and formed puddles. Every one of them butchered in the most inhumane way possible. My whole body shivered, my legs threatened to give out.
My parents, where was my family? I searched the body's, hoping to not find them among the corpses. But there they were. Their arms intertwined around each other. Not even separated da death. I wailed into the night, and fell to my knees. These were my parents, my family. My tears mixed with their blood on the ground as the fuoco blazed behind us. An emptiness grew in my chest, where their Amore had once been. Sobs racked my body. I looked into their empty eyes, willing them to regain the glow they had while living. I grabbed their hands and hugged them tightly to my chest. I knew, deep down that these hands would never again be warm.
Tears burned down my face, I couldn’t leave them out in the cold like this. They deserved much più than a cold bloody ground. Slowly and softly, I began the traditional spell of death. I felt their hands harden and twist in my own hands. I shut my eyes, unwilling to watch the change overcoming their bodies.
The spell wore on. Soon I had to release their hands o forever be caught within their grasp. I could hear their forms creak and grown as their forms grew taller and harder. The rustling of their leaves as they stretched out.
    Then it was finished. I opened my eyes to look at the two oak trees that now stood in front of me. Their roots were intertwined around each other, just how they would like to be. A sob caught in my throat, I rubbed the tears from my eyes furiously. They wouldn’t like to see me o my sister crying over them like this.
My sister. I looked up, my tears forgotten. Where was my sister? I searched the bodies, not daring to hope that she might still be alive. I blinked back the tears that threatened to come out of my eyes, where was she?