The trees crackled in the distance. A maelstrom of ominous blackened crimson, like a serpent's tongue, licked away the very life of the tree's. Lily, one of the older elven children among them, could almost could swear she heard the cries of the Valar themselves. As she dared look around the other's, their eyes were a fragment of what they were just moments before. Shattered shards of glass and thorns, seemed to dance like demons in the young one's eyes. Many clung to their loved one's legs and arms, Or clutched their tiny hands along the hemming of their naneth's skirt or Adar's robes.
But she would do no such thing. She had always been one of the bravest among her kin, and although she was shaking, she pivoted forward one foot before the other, counted, and had to remind herself to breathe between each one. Her luminous locks were a fiery hair garnet that flared around her face from the heat of the whipping flames, and her father called out to her, but she wouldn't listen. She needed to see and not to look away.
Lily shivered and almost coiled back, feeling the flame emulating off her own flesh as if the branches were not from their beloved tree's. Promise. But her very limbs. She shook her head in disbelief as words faltered and broke over her tongue like a wounded dove. A sound as unnerving and unfamiliar to her own lips as the others that may have heard her silent cries. In the distance, almost as if separate from where she stood, she could hear the other's cry out, some in anger or fear, while the other reacted just like her. The heat of the flames did not match the ones burning in all their hearts, as one branch after another fell like charred dust to the ground below. Until the once beautiful trees were nothing more than two skeltons laid bare, lifeless, before them all.
It was almost too much to take, and finally, as the last one fell, she echoed in the same way. With her small hands pressed along her cherub face, she cried endlessly and was grateful for the shrouding of her long tresses that draped over her face. When she opened her eyes once more and turned downwards to the black soil beneath her knees, it formed a puddle, looking glass as if the Valar themselves had placed it before her, and she could see the contouring and streams of pain peppering across her dirt-ridden face.
Anger and fear surfaced and pulsed in her veins, and she clenched her tiny fists so tight her fingertips clipped into her palm. A shrieking cry poured over her turned-down lips, and she gazed to the stars of Varda, screaming, "Why? Ohhhh whyyyy?" Her body almost became limp, and she found herself slumping forward, almost into herself. Her Adar suddenly came up from behind the young lass, and he too fell to his knees before her, cradling his beloved daughter in his arms, trying to hush away her sorrow and her fears. But even he, as she glanced back at the wreckage, the desolation of what once was, his masculine frame riddled in pain.
The others drew their gaze from the remains of the tree's to the father and daughter weaved as one in the sorrow and displacement that they all felt at this moment now, and they looked at themselves and those to their sides with the same collective thought, what would become of them? Where would they go now?" They huddled close, even those who did not know each other well. Pain had welded them as one, and an eerie silence fell upon them all as the feeling of displacement and fear engulfed the air.