Tunnels

"No wonder you looked so familiar," Druid stated.

In Trentville, it was hard to trust even the person with one shared bunk back then. Stabbing someone in the back just for a few scraps was common. That was the kind of environment Druid grew up in.

However, the results were still the same. They all were just products to be sold off. And was treated as such. If they survived, that was. Even now, Druid couldn't stand being touched. She could still feel their hands as they inspected her like a prized horse.

Druid was lucky, if one would call it that. She was beautiful even as a child and was treated better than the rest. As a result, she was the subject of jealous stares and sneaky bullying. Druid learned early on that the only person she could depend on was herself.

But Emma was different. She was sweet and kind. She took it upon herself to take care of the younger children. Druid liked her. Although Druid knew that people like Emma didn't last long—either their soul was crushed, or they were dead—rumours had it that she had an older sister who made sure that Emma was well cared for.

Brit was Emma's older sister.

"I don't care." Brit sneered. "Just tell me."

Druid glanced at the gun like it was a toy and said. "No."

"No?" Brit looked at Druid incredulously. "You don't think I would shoot?"

"I know you won't," Druid said with conviction.

Brit laughed. "You haven't changed at all, haven't you? You're always thinking you're better than us."

Druid shrugged. "I don't think so, but I do have faith."

"Faith?" Brit snickered. "In what?"

"In my companions." Druid smiled. "I'm not the only Lumeye here."

Suddenly, Brit stiffened up as an ice blade was placed against her neck.

"Drop it!" an all-too-familiar voice growled. Brit hesitated. "Drop it, or I'll take it from you." The air got cold enough to see one's breath. "We wouldn't want that, would we?" The threat was clear, and Brit instantly dropped her gun, and something invisible, most likely Bryson's foot, kicked it away.

"Thank you, Bryson. Let me handle the rest." Druid recommended.

Bryson's form shimmered into existence but kept his ice sword where it was. "Please, this woman tried to kill you, and you want me to sit back and do nothing. Hah!"

Brit tried to but stilled as a tringle of blood ran down her throat. She swallowed. "How did you get out?"

Bryson smirked. "Easy, you showed me how. Remember?" He held his hand, and a ball of water formed. He closed his fist abruptly.

Brit turned her head. "Hmph, just kill me already."

"Glady," Bryson stated.

"Bryson, don't," Druid responded instantly.

"Ice boy, hold it for a sec," Statson stated; he was leaning against the wall, wheezing.

"Statson, are you okay?" Druid asked, concerned.

Statson waved his hand limply. "Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine. Things got a little too dicy." He heaved. "I'm just going to sit down for a bit." He slid to the floor with a thud.

"Wuss."

Statson held up his middle finger. "If you have some roots in places where the sun doesn't shine, then we'll talk."

Druid was now annoyed. "Guys," she raised her voice. They both closed their mouths, keeping silent. Druid turned back to Brit. Now, what to do with you?"

"If I wasn't captured, I'll…."

"Then you'll still be in the same position," Druid whispered, and Whippy came from behind Bryson and Brit. It wrapped around her arm and hissed. Druid petted it and cooed at it before addressing Brit. "I was never going to let you kill me."

Brit just glared at Druid.

Then, realization dawned on Druid. "Or is that what you want? For me to kill you. to prove that you're right, perhaps?" When Brit looked away. Druid sighed. "Listen, I'm not your personal…Never mind." Shaking her head. "Listen. I'm not going to kill you." Druid looked up at  Bryson. "Let her go."

"But…"

"Please, Bryson." Druid used her puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." Bryson reluctantly agreed, and his ice sword disappeared as Brit fell to her knees, holding her bleeding neck, glaring at Druid.

Druid kneeled. "I know you won't believe me, but I wasn't the one who started that fire."

Brit just laughed. "Don't give me that crap. I saw you. You were right there where the fire started. And you're a Fire Lumeye; it had to be you."

"I was too young. I didn't know what I was back then," Druid denied. She hadn't manifested yet so that she couldn't use her fire abilities. However, she couldn't deny that being Fire Lumeye saved her life that night. Druid would have been dead like everyone else if it had been anything other than fire, like Emma.

Her foggy mind went back to the burning town. Wasn't there someone else…? No, I can't think about that.

"You could have started it normally." Brit charged in.

Druid nodded her head in agreement. "I could have. Sure. I even dreamed of it. Absolutely. That place was hell on earth. But I didn't." As expected, Brit looked skeptical. And Druid sighed. I might as well tell the truth even if she won't believe me anyway. "You know as well as I that I wasn't the only one there."

Brit's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're not telling me Emma was the one…." She shook her head. "No, you're lying."

"I wish I was. Besides, I don't care if you believe me or not. But Emma…" Druid closed her eyes. Maybe it would have been better if she had taken all the blame. But, no, Emma wouldn't like to see her sister like this, so full of hate and self-dispair. "She would want you to know."

"Who gives you the right to speak for Emma." Brit fired back.

"Did you think it was a coincidence that the whole town went up in flames just when Emma found out you would be sold ?" Druid rushed in.

"I…"

Druid continued speaking. "She knew your time was limited. Maybe realizing everyone's time was limited broke her." Of course, Druid was just speculating, but seeing how kind Emma was made sense. "Believe me, people broke for less."

Brit looked conflicted. "I don't know."

Druid got up again and turned his back. "You don't have to like me. But I will give you something that you probably don't even want. I will allow you to walk away, and hopefully, we'll never see each other again." When Brit didn't move, Druid raised her voice. "Go now! Or Bryson would be more than happy to fulfil your wish."

Brit's hands moved to her neck, and she swiftly got up. However, before she could leave, Statson spoke up. "Wait." The young woman stopped. "Did Marty-girl know about this?"

"No, she would never…."

Statson stared at Brit for a moment. "I thought not. So, why don't we keep this between us, yes?"

Brit nodded.

"Good."

As Brit disappeared around the corner, Druid stared into the distance until Statson approached her. "Ha, Fire Princess, are you going to be okay?"

"Yes, just thinking…."

"About…?"

"How I could have stopped it that night, my foresight warned me." Druid paused; a feeling of guilt overwhelmed her. "At the time, I didn't know if it was real. However, I wished it was true. I just wanted everything to burn to the ground. But, unfortunately, when I found out who was responsible, it was already too late." Druid looked up at Statson. "I wasn't the one who started the fire, but..." She choked up.

"Hey, Lumeye or not, you were a kid. In a situation where adults would have wet their pants." Statson consoled. "So I'll tell you what an old war buddy told me. Sometimes just surviving is good enough." When Druid didn't respond. "You hear me?"

Druid jumped, startled. "Yes, yes, I hear you."

Statson nodded, satisfied. "Good, now repeat it until it's ingrained into your entire being."

Bryson came over, looking concerned. "Druid, I…"

Druid smiled at Bryson. "Just being here is  enough."

She got lost in his ice-blue eyes…until Statson's voice intruded into their little world. "Ha, guys. How are we getting out of here without a guide?"

"Oh," Druid said as realization dawned on her.

"Maybe I could help." A voice came out of nowhere.

Everyone turned around to find a man stepping out from hiding. Statson spoke up with bewilderment. "Tat-man, why are you here?"

Jared Crane held his hands high, "But you'll need to do me a favour first."

Headmistress's Office

Headmistress Maria Weatherly was drumming her fingers on her desk when a teacher, Mrs. Gray, stormed into her office. Maria got up, angry. "Who are you to…."

"I'm sorry, Headmistress, it's an emergency." Mrs Gray stated quickly. "The Nomads wanted safe entry into the Compound."

Maria seethed but decided to let it slide. "Nomads? Why?"

"They said something was wrong in the Wasteland, and they said they had our people with them—people from the Trial."

One second turned into two before Maria simply said, "What?"

Ruined City

Lilia moved like a bat out of hell. She sliced through a weak point in the nest with her glowing claws. Just as the Protector tried to, once again, stab her with its beak. "Damn." Lilia cursed. Coughing up a mouthful, she didn't even want to think about it. Lilia needed to get out. The sooner, the better. Because if the Vulture didn't get her, being buried alive certainly would.

What to do, what to do? Lilia's eyes moved from one thing to the next. Finally, her gaze landed on her fingers, and she could cut herself out, but she shook her head; there was no way to know which way was out, and one wrong move might get her crushed.

However, she knew that staying wasn't good either. Lilia had no doubt the Protector was still trying to find her, hearing how it was tearing at the nest above her.

"Smart little…" Lilia mumbled. She had moved her legs quickly, as they almost got snagged. Okay, not so little." But it does give her an idea—a very dumb idea. If the Vulture wanted to fish her out, why not let it?

She waited until it swooped down again. Then, with a desperate push, Lilia jumped on its beak, and before it realized she was there, she climbed up its head. She slung on the Protectors and landed on the bird's feathered back. All that while praying that the humongous Vulture wouldn't take off and fly, using her claws to control her slide.

As soon as Lilia landed on the hopefully solid ground. She saw that her claws didn't even raffle the Predator's feathers. Then, the bird went after her once again.

This can't last forever. I needed to get out, but Protector blocked her path at every turn. She kept weaving and ducking to avoid getting crushed. The shockwaves were almost unbearable, but at least she could move.

Spoke too soon.

Suddenly, she was slapped away with a wing and landed in a cavity of a broken building. Lilia groaned out as she got on her hands and knees.

That was when that same gray fox was right in her face.

Startled, Lilia scrambled back. "What." Lilia didn't even hear it; she looked, no, her coming. Usually, animals in any shape and form were an open book to Lilia. Even more so than people. But this little fox was different. Reaching out with her hand. "You almost feel like…."

However, before Lilia's hand touched her fur, everything stilled, and Lilia was shoved into a dream-like state.

The fox just stared. "Child, you're doing it all wrong." The voice was female, but it didn't seem to be the fox's voice. Instead, the voice echoed like it was coming from somewhere far away.

Lilia couldn't think. "What?"

"The Protector child, you can't fight against a Protector."

Lilia rolled her shoulders and tried to relax. Okay, this was weird, but there was no fixing that. So she decided to respond as if it was any other situation. "I know that. All I want to do is to get away."

"No, at this point, getting away is impossible." The fox shook her head. "What you have is already enough."

Lilia was confused. "Enough? What do I have?"

"Oh, child. To not know that much…." the voice sounded disappointed. The Protectors are the creations of the Wastelands. And what is the Wastelands' number one rule?"

"The Wasteland's sings," Lilia whispered. "So you're saying…."

 "Sing like your life depended on it. Believe me, child, because it does."