hope those guys don’t create any trouble. Isobelle thought. She had an awful premonition that they were up to no good.

Surely they wouldn’t. As she walked to the market, she shook her head. She couldn’t get Margrett out of her head. She remembered the old lady's smile as she turned to leave. Isobelle felt a pain in her heart. Those eyes had experienced so much… There were so many questions to ask her.

I’ll need to take her somewhere where no one can hear us. Her thoughts returned to the officer as her blood ran cold. However, despite the fear she felt, she needed to understand what was happening. For that, she would risk the punishment.

“-And on the day of the Great Migration, the Figures of Seven appeared with the power of the angels. They fought… fought until the invaders' weapons had cut and torn their flesh asunder countless times over. But-but they prevailed! They brought us to our salvation! All hail the Figures of Seven!”

As Isobelle walked through one courtyard, on the way to the elevator, a man in brown robes with large chains around his neck shouted forth. A large gathering had taken place and most of the people had their hands together as they bobbed their heads.

Isobelle’s eyes met with the preaching man. She could feel the craziness within those deep green pearls. He was about to say something else, but Isobelle had already picked up the pace and left into the hallway.

Two different sides of a story. Who is telling the truth? Isobelle bit her lip as she hastily called the elevator. The sound of gravity taking over was strangely soothing, but she soon recalled those green eyes. They were the eyes of a fanatic.

The doors opened and the sprawling market once again met her eyes, her body covered in goosebumps, exited the elevator as she walked straight for that dingy little café. However, this time there weren't many visitors. The street was empty and eerily silent. The only sounds Isobelle heard were of the residents scuttling about their stalls. Many gazes followed her. She was being watched.

She stood in front of the café. The people around had fear in their eyes as they quickly hid within their own stalls. Isobelle’s small hand reached forward. The small bell from behind the door rang throughout the café. Her shocked eyes looked at the café, or what they left of it. All the furniture and decorations had been shattered and scattered around the small room. All the countertops had been all but erased.

“Margrett?” Isobelles small voice echoed within the dingy café. There was no answer.

Her feet meandered through the debris as her head peered through the back into the kitchen area. Everything had been destroyed and thrown around.

“Who would do such a thing?” Isobelle held her hands to her mouth in disbelief.

Isobelle lifted her sleeves as she nodded. Alright, I might as well help her clean for when she gets back. With the thought she got to work, it was the first time she had done any cleaning like this. Any scrap pieces of wood she threw to the side and the salvageable items on the other side. Soon, there was at least a pathway that one could walk in and she had swept most of the harmful dust outside.

Look at me mum, dad, bet you’d die from shock if you saw me now. Isobelle broke out into a grin as her mind was kept occupied. A voice appeared from behind her as she almost jumped out of her skin.

“There’s no point in doing that. She ain’t coming back.” The old man, Albert, from the sweetshop said. His previously tense shoulders drooped, the bags under his eyes only became more severe.

“What do you mean?” Isobelle had a bad feeling as she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach.

He wanted to say something, but his words were stuck in his throat. His eyes peeked through the ragged curtains as they scoured the street.

“I’ve already said enough. Go back and don’t go askin’ questions.” Albert said as he scurried along the street and ducked into his own stall.

Isobelle stood, rooted to the floor. Thoughts were whirling through her mind like a tornado. Was it the officer?

She gritted her teeth as she left the café. She didn’t notice in one of the dark corners, dried up blood blended into the shadows.

***

Isobelle arrived back at the barracks. She could feel the tension in the air as the rest of the group had collapsed onto their beds. They were all laying on their stomachs as small groans left their mouths.

“What happened to you guys?” Isobelle said in surprise.

“Ellena is what happened.” Dillan glared in Ellena's direction.

“Don’t go blaming me, it’s those pricks you should be angry at.” Ellena spat.

Alphonse noticed Isobelles expression as his face lay against the pillow. He noticed the small trembling in her hands.

“We had a fight in the canteen. We got lashes as punishment. You okay?” Alphonse mumbled against the pillow. Each word he said brought with it a stinging pain that had been branded onto his back.

Isobelle shook her head. “I’m fine–just tired–that's all.”

Isobelle’s attention moved to Marcel, only the faint sound of breathing was heard. She walked over to Ellena. “What exactly happened at the canteen?”

“They were bullying him when I intervened.” Ellena’s eyes shifted over to Marcel. “Then, well, a fight broke out. Taught those punks a lesson.”

“Who would bully someone? We’re all in this together.” Isobelle was shocked.

“Well, not everyone thinks the same way you do. People shit out of fear all the time. How many of us can remain calm in our circumstance?” Ellena said. “Everyone is scared, everyone wants to go home.”

Isobelle grit her teeth as she nodded. For most people, this place was a hellhole.