Sonder was overcome with a sense of unease, causing her to cast her gaze upon the figures that had already been subjected to experimentation but were not in the cages or cells.

And just after a moment, a shudder ran through Sonder as her gaze fell upon one figure that seemed eerily familiar.

As she drew closer, her heart pounded in her chest, a dreadful realization seeping into her mind.

The figure was grotesque, a mere shadow of its former self, cut open and mutilated beyond anything she had ever seen, and yet Sonder could not deny the horrifying truth.

It was her brother.

She recognized the curve of his jaw, the once vibrant eyes now devoid of life, and the unquie scars running over what was left of an arm that she had caused when she accidentally pushed him down a hill when they were little.

"No..." Sonder's voice was but a whisper in the echoing silence of the laboratory. She fell to her knees beside the figure, her hands trembling as they reached out to touch what should have been his hand.

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she looked around, her heart heavy and almost bursting. She knew, even without seeing it, that her mother and father could not be far away and were condemned to the same fate.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Vell watched silently from a distance, giving Sonder the space she needed.

The world seemed to spin around Sonder as she closed her eyes; her heart ached so profoundly that it almost ripped out of her chest.

The day was already so full of sorrow, and this had only added to it.

And then, deep inside Sonder, something broke.

Against her will, she began transforming into her banshee form.

The anger and grief she felt were overwhelming, though in the midst of her transformation, Vell's voice cut through her grief, his hand resting on her shoulder.

"Sonder..." He didn't have to say anything more. They both knew what this meant.

Her family was gone, their lives cruelly snuffed out in this horrific place.

She returned to what she had always been, just a little girl, and she hugged Vell tightly, in fear that he would also leave her.

But the moment was cut short when they heard a murmur from the darkness.

They saw a raised hand and moved towards it quickly.

It was a cut-apart mage of the irathy, somehow still alive despite his torn-up nature.

Sonder could only look at him with anger.

"Why them?" She asked, almost desperate.

He didn't answer, but instead tried to crawl away, leaving behind a trail of blood.

Vell was also angry, angry for Sonder and the people that suffered here because of the irath.

He stepped on the man's hand and dug in his heel.

The irathy mage gave a grunt of pain, though it felt neutral, as an acknowledgement that he was hurt and nothing else.

Vell asked the same question, "Why them?"

The mage breathed in and raised his head. He knew the answer.

"We needed them. We would never experiment on our own, and we needed those similar to us—humans, untarnished by magic. We searched for a remote village with no magi. And we found hers." He looked at Sonder. "It could have been any of a hundred, but we chose yours."