Lilia wanted to sleep some more. She even tried to untangle her headband from her neck so she could use it as a sleeping mask.

Sadly, it was not to be. Classes were out for the day, and students crowded into the nearby courtyard.

She gave up and looked around. There were a lot of gray stone buildings with surrounding towering walls. It looked like a prison or a heavily fortified military compound, and it was. Compound 8 was one of many dotting throughout the Wastelands.

Most compounds had one purpose: harvesting resources from the Wastelands and transporting them to the Cities. Compound 8 was no different, but it functioned more like a boarding school, teaching the students how to survive in the Wastelands.

The truth was most people don't choose to live in the compounds. They are recruited forcefully by the Cities. Those who came to the Wastelands were…

Lilia watched as a kid who appeared younger than Stella. He clutched his bag like it was the last thing he had for orphans and people experiencing homelessness.

She glanced at an older woman who looked like a farmworker. She had a number shaved on the back of her head. "Must be new," Lilia mumbled—the Convicted.

A group of teenagers walked past. Some had their vine markings showing in plain sight. Others ensured that theirs were covered or had wrappings to hide them from prying eyes. More than half of those who lived on the compounds were Vine survivors.

Although there were quite a few who fit into every category,

Lilia yawned and stretched, wishing she had a better view of the Wastelands beyond the towering walls. Unfortunately, all she could see was the top of the trees. Very disappointing. However, that might be for the best. The walls were coated with a bio-engineered mineral called Mirstyte that repelled any danger from the Wastelands.

That doesn't mean that Compound living was safe; quite the contrary, the Wasteland breathed and had a mind of its own, and it had teeth. Therefore, only take what was offered. If not, then people might get injured or, worse, killed. One must always keep that in mind.

Personally, Lilia didn't mind the Wastelands. Breathing in the fresh air was much better than that recycled air the Cities used, and at least she had room to stretch out and sleep.

Instead, Lilia found it more challenging to deal with people.

Especially if you're a Lumeye.

"All because of the Lumeye." or "Lumeye should all die." These were only a few statements that Lilia had heard all her life. It brought about more considerable significance after she found out what she was. Truthfully, she thought that everyone just wanted someone to blame.

Lilia was still breathing. And she had no attention to stop breathing. Despite what history depicted, hardship, discrimination, unanswered questions, and self-doubt. She had every right to be as alive as any human.

If anyone decides to pursue her and those she cares about, they better be ready for a fight.

Meanwhile, Lilia watched as the crowd doubled in numbers with great concern.

Uh-oh, I need to get through the courtyard. I hate crowds. I can't wait any longer. Then again, the opposite direction looks pretty tempting. Stella would kill me if I didn't show up… again. She internally debated, but in the end, Lilia built her resolve and slowly got up, grabbing her things before setting off.

Lilia was going to be late, but that was nothing new. The only problem was that she had to go through the courtyard, where students liked to hang out. Swimming through that crowd was going to be such a headache, literally.

Ah, I might as well get this over with.

Walking across the courtyard, her long legs eating up the distance, Lilia tried to blend in, be as casual as possible, and not stiffen up when anyone came too close.

She bumped into someone, and she couldn't help but stare. There stood a girl a couple of years older than Lilia. Oh, she's cute. Lilia felt a smile play on her lips.

On the other hand, the girl looked at Lilia incredulously and flipped her hair before moving on like Lilia had never existed.

Oh, it was rejected. Nonetheless, that was enough for some students to take notice.

"Isn't that, Lee?"

"She used to sing…no. She played the piano."

"I heard that she had a mental breakdown."

"I heard they had to send her to the mental hospital."

"I heard that she doesn't talk much."

"What was that around her arm?"

"She's a blue sash."

"Blue means that she is a reservist."

"Not even good enough to be on a squad."

"Serves her right."

I knew that this was a bad idea, she thought, clenching her teeth. It was too much. Thoughts kept pouring in. Her head was pounding; this was why she hated crowds.

Because she was a telepath.

Usually, she could process foreign thoughts as white noise when focused on her. But let's just say it was a lot harder to control.

And the name Lee? Well, Lee was the name she used to go by when she started her music career. She was a child prodigy, but when her telepathy kicked in,… that didn't go well.

Lilia placed her headphones on her ears, trying to block out the noise. Her headphones were specially modified to block out telepath wavelengths and were her lifeline. But they could also do something else.

She certainly wasn't the only one who had them. They were standard issues for those with a certain level of musical intelligence. Why? They could hear the Wastelands' song, enabling them to navigate throughout the Wastelands in relative safety.

In short, we are the trackers and scouts of the Wastelands.

No! Don't get distracted. I need to keep moving. Oh. Something caught the corner of Lilia's eye. A woman with long red hair and green eyes. A man with blue-tipped blond hair and blue eyes. Both were two years older than her. Both were beautiful.

I didn't know that Druid and Bryson were back. They're as popular as ever, I see. No wonder the courtyard was busy… just my luck. Lilia sighed. The power couple travelled a lot promoting Compound 8, so people gathered to bask in their presence.

It had nothing to do with her.

***

Druid was drawn to the commotion and spotted Lilia in the thick of things. Her eyes instinctively moved to the left to see a man leaning against a nearby wall. He was dark except for his pale grey eyes. Eyes that never left Lilia.

Shadow.

Her own green eyes glazed over. Imagines flashed: A strange woman dying in a fire. Screaming. Cyan eyes. Shadowed hands dragged Lilia away. A sense of urgency. Other images flashed, but those weren't clear. At least not yet.

"It's not time yet, but soon," Druid whispered.

Visions were like staring into a river. The closer the surface, the easier it was to grasp and shift. The further away, the murkier it gets. Disappearing just as quickly, replaced with something else. But this? This is important. If I don't change this…

She closed her eyes. No, I can't think about that day.

Druid felt a breath close to her ear. "What are you doing? You're staring too much. We can't acknowledge them publicly," Bryson's crisp voice whispered. There was a hint of worry in his eyes.

"I know." She smiled lovingly at Bryson. She mustered her stage smile before turning her attention to the surrounding students, playing up her exhaustion. "I am sorry. What was the question?"

"Oh, um, how was the party?" The girl who spoke up looked a little flustered. She and Bryson were representatives for Compound 8. They went to events and showed off their good looks and talents.

Druid kept smiling while replying, "The food was excellent." Meh, at best. "The people were interesting—old guys and some women who were too handsy. "And the music was mind-blowing." Boring. She had nothing to dance to, and she loved to dance. Druid wanted to dance right now. "All in all, it was quite productive." Yes, very productive. They gathered a lot of blackmail information. The Headmistress would be pleased.

It got noisy after that. Students were asking one question after another.

Suddenly, a hand reached out, reaching for her. Druid didn't bother to move away, knowing that Bryson would take care of it.

Bryson's gloved hand wrapped around the offender's arm. "What are you doing?

The other boy just snickered. "Relax, ok. I am just testing your skills. Please, can you let go of my arm?" He winced.

Bryson let go, sat back, and stared at the boy silently.

The boy looked a little uncomfortable. “Um…my name is….”

"Jason Vasters. Sixteen years old. A Vine Survivor. Leader of Juliet Squad. And no, I have no interest in joining your squad," he interrupted in a bored manner when Jason was about to interrupt. "You should be grateful I said no." Bryson didn't need to add, 'Or I'll replace you as the leader.' His tone said it all.

Jason flushed. He turned to Druid. "How about you, beautiful?" he flirted.

Was that supposed to impress me?

She grasped Bryson's gloved hand and gave him a look that said. Don't rise to his bait. Before turning towards Jason, and smiled politely. "I'm sorry, but I am thrilled where I am."

Jason scoffed. "Being a Blue Sash loser. Yeah, right."

Druid just sighed and shook her head. Not this again.

When students turned fourteen, they were split into two groups: Blue Sashes and Red Sashes, or Blues and Reds for short. The Reds were the fighters who took on riskier jobs like hunting, gathering resources, and guarding the wall—supervised. Of course. On the other hand, the Blues were made up of support and specialists.

As such, the Reds were treated better than the Blues. Of course, the Reds developed a superiority complex.

It gets tiring after a while.

Bryson laughed mockingly. "If being Blue bothered us that much, we would have been Red long ago. We had dozens of Reds who approached us. None of them were worth mentioning." Bryson leaned forward, his eyes turning hard. But you, I will remember."

Jason stepped back. "Why."

"You tried to touch Druid." His voice was cold as ice. "You better wish we don't cross paths again."

Jason couldn't run fast enough.

Bryson was always overprotective. But despite that, she still loved him.

Her mind turned back to her vision. Her eyes searched for Lilia and Shadow, but both had already disappeared.

Hopefully, things will turn out all right. However, Druid couldn't help but doubt deep in her heart.