Chapter 4 - Shadows of Fear and Hunger

Chapter 4 lets go!!! sorry I haven't added it, I keep forgetting. hope you enjoy it. don't worry, I should remember to publish the next chapters.

As we entered the wing, the cold damp air enveloped me. The farther down the stairs we went, the colder it got. Teens watched as we brought food to the center of camp, they had somehow found some wood and started a fire. I saw mulch under the firewood as it crackled and rocks surrounded the fire.

We set the bags of groceries down and the teens all stared down at them. “Make a line.” I ordered, and they all shuffled into a big messy one. The kid at the front of the line was practically buzzing in excitement. I reached into a bag, and found a carefully wrapped burrito. My mouth watered at the thought of food, but I reluctantly handed it to the teen.

The looks on the faces of the officers was wonderful. They didn’t expect five teenagers to survive, let alone fifteen. Slowly, the bags of groceries deplenished and we only had one bag left for 8 kids. I looked in the bag, nine tacos and six burritos, just enough for everyone to get one. I handed the kids four burritos and three tacos, leaving  six tacos and two burritos for us.

“Who brought the food?” I asked Ms. Castillo, passing the remains to our group. I wasn’t all that bad.

“Some kind young lady,” She replied, “Her name was Ms. Smith.”

I smiled at the sound of Luna’s mother’s name, she was more of a mother to me than my birth one. “What’s wrong Sage,” Aries asked. “I haven’t seen you smile since this happened.”

I chuckled. “I just recognized the lady’s name.”

I continued passing the food to the group until I myself had a burrito in my hand. I opened the wrapper and the smell enveloped me. My mouth watered at the thought of how this might taste. I enjoyed every last bit of that burrito, it removed the constant pain of being hungry.

“Water,” I started, “Did she have water?” Aries smiled, and removed 4 bags from behind him. “How did you manage to hide those behind your back?”

He shrugged and handed it to me. The plastic bottle crinkled as I drank from it. People stared. Aries rose and handed them out to everyone. We barely just had enough for everyone. “Sage!” A voice screamed from the top of the stairwell. I froze, and whipped around. 

The chatter in camp turned to silence and I grabbed my spear, ready to protect my Wing. That was when Luna stumbled out of the darkness, her hair was matted with blood and their black tears.

I dropped the spear, and it clattered to the floor. I ran to her as she fell to her knees, I forced her to look at me as tears streamed down her face. “What happened,” I asked, genuine concern plastered on my face. 

“Charlotte” she muttered through sobs. “Charolette B, sh-she was one of them, and she came at me. I-I had to kill her.” She launched into another fit of uncontrollable sobs.

Charlotte was a nice girl, her skin was a warm almond with freckles along the bridge of her nose. Her hair was bouncy and held soft curls that framed her face like a halo. She always smiled, even when things were bad.

I remember that day clearly. 

We were sitting out in the courtyard, the sun shining down, warming the stone benches beneath us. I was talking to her, telling her everything that had happened earlier�"just sharing the usual stuff. But she wasn’t really listening. Her eyes had drifted away from me, locked onto something across the courtyard. 

I paused, confused, and followed her gaze. That’s when I saw her�"Charlotte�"sitting quietly with a sketchpad in her lap, completely focused on her drawing. She didn’t look up, didn’t notice us. It was like she was in her own world, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

I turned toward her, and sure enough she was actually looking at her. I grinned. “You like her don’t you.” I said jokingly, slightly nudging her. She turned bright red, and started sputtering.

“N-no,” she stuttered. “W-what wh-why would yo�"No, why would I�"” 

She gave in and just nodded. I sighed and walked up to Charlotte. Luna came running right behind me. “What are you doing Sage,” Luna asked nervously.

“You’ll see,” I replied. I tapped Charlotte, and she turned toward me. Luna curled into a ball on the ground, with her hands on her face, trying to hide the fact that she was embarrassed. “Hi Charlotte, my friend here likes you.”

Luna groaned, but Charlotte just stared. She pointed to the headphones I hadn’t noticed, and I laughed. She removed them from her ears. “Can you repeat that please.” She asked nicely.

Luna groaned once more. “I said, my friend�"Luna�"really likes you.”

Charlotte turned her gaze to Luna, and her eyes softened. She crouched down and removed her hands from her face. “You're okay,” she murmured softly. “I like you too.”

The last part was barely audible due to the loud chatter going on around us. Charlotte helped her up, and she showed Luna her sketchbook. The drawing she was working on was of Luna. Her eyes were the only thing colored, but it looked exactly like her. 

The memory faded.

They had only started dating May, but that was 4 months ago. Meaning she died after 4 months of happiness. I held her in my arms, wishing that I could take her pain away. But all of a sudden, she stopped sobbing and her body went rigid.

“What's wrong?” I asked. She looked up at me, and she wiped her eyes. 

“Zayden,” she started, “He wants to talk.”

A moment of silence followed. The chatter seemed to die down at camp again. 

“He’s still alive?" 

“Yes”

“Did he hurt you?”

She sniffled again, her eyes full of tears once more. “No, he w-was just w-watching m-me. He came out o-of the sh-shadows, and told me to tell y-you to m-meet him when the moon is at the highest peak in the s-sky. He s-said to m-meet him at the a-art wing.”

“You're okay,” I said gently. Slowly running my hand through her hair, trying to calm her. 

I turned to the crowd that had started to gather in the distance. “Continue as you were,” I barked at them. Then the crowd dispersed. I turned to Aries with pleading eyes, and he came. “Help me carry her to the tent. Please.”

He turned his gaze to Luna, she was peacefully sleeping now. Her chest went up and down shakily. Aries lifted her up in his arms and walked with me to the tent, he looked lost in thought.

“Sage,” He started.

I looked up at him, his eyes still looking forward.“Hm”

“You know you act more . . . human with Luna.”

“What do you mean?”

He stopped walking and stared at me, like actually stared at me. “You act like a normal person again. Not distant or detached from the world.”

“I still don’t understand,”

“Sage, you killed 2 people that you were staring at. You didn’t care that they died, like they were just obstacles in your path.”

“So?”

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

My anger was starting to rise. “Again I say, so what if I killed them. They were gonna die anyway.”

He started to walk again. “Nevermind,”

We continued to walk in silence. He’s right, you know, that small little part of me said. You’re a monster, and you always will be. My head burned, my eyes felt like they were on fire, and everything around me just disappeared. I was standing in darkness.

Click. Click. Click.

I turned, and there was a shadowy figure. Their eyes glowed an ominous red, and as they walked, the sound was heard. 

Click. Click. Click.

“What do you want,” I asked, my voice stronger than I felt. 

Click. Click. Click.

“What do you want,” I said more sharply, but no reply. They just kept coming closer. I had no weapon, no way to protect myself. But as they got closer, the more they became more distinguished. She had warm brown eyes, and tan olive colored skin. Her face was framed by her wavy brownish-black hair. Overall, she looked like . . . me.

But there was something slightly different about her, she seemed older�"more distant. But the most notable was her eyes, they seemed to have an evil glint to them. That was when I noticed her hands were stained crimson, I started moving backwards. Horrified of who I might become. I tripped over my shoelace and fell.

She walked toward me, her arms outstretched. “Accept your fate.” She hissed, though her voice was cold, gravely, and deadly. She now suddenly had a small serrated dagger, she looked at it with anger. “You’ll understand why you stopped believing in mercy�"when you see how easily they traded her life for their own. They killed her to save themselves. And for that, we’ll burn the world they built”

“Who!” I screamed.

“You’ll find out soon.”

The darkness faded, and I was back at the theatre wing. I was on the ground, crying and my eyes still burned. Aries was crouched next to me, his eyes full of worry. 

“Where is she?” I rasped, my voice gravely.

“In the tent,”

“She’s alive?”

“Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be?”

I rubbed my face, wishing I could escape the terrible feeling that had come over me. “I just need sleep.”

He held his hand out to help me, and I accepted it. The world around me seemed to slow, They killed her to save themselves. I shook my head. Who were they gonna kill? Who are they?

Deep down, I had a feeling I knew exactly who was going to die. Accept your fate. When we reached the stage where the tent was. At the top step, Aries turned his head slightly to look at me. His eyes cold, and sharp. “You're not who you used to be.”

“I’m so much more than that,” I snapped back. “I’m stronger than I ever was, and your little friend Smoky�"she died when I died. So don’t expect me to protect you when they come.”

I froze. 

He turned to face me. “What did you just say?”

“I-I didn’t mean it.”

Anger flared in his eyes. “Oh, yes you did. Who’s coming?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.

He slowly came down the steps and stopped in front of me.

“Who’s coming, Sage?”

“I don’t know, it just slipped out.”

Fear rooted me to the spot.

 “One last time. Who. Is. Coming?”

My fear faded, and rage replaced it. I held my spear up. His eyes widened�"he regretted it. “I am Sage Evens,” I hissed. “Lord of the SouthWing, yet you dare question whether I am loyal to my Wing?”

He lowered his head in defeat.

 “Sorry, Lord Evens,” he said coldly. 

“Good, now go make sure the wounded are tended to.”

He walked out, the tension slowly drifting out after him. I turned to face Luna. She was laid gently down on a sleeping bag. I sat down near her, the only noise heard was the quiet chatter outside. Her face relaxed and peaceful. You know she’s the one. The voice said.

Then I have to do anything in my power to protect her.  I answered defiantly. 

“Sage,” Cass’s voice called from the entrance, removing me from my thoughts. 

I turned to face her. She was peeking in through the crack in the entrance flap. “Enter.”

She slowly opened it, trying not to disturb Luna. Once she entered, she sat down next to me. Her hair was faintly glowing red due to the lantern lighting. Her eyes bore into me. 

What is up with people and staring at me today? I thought to myself.

“Sage?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve changed.”

Here we go again. “Explain,”

“You seem�"I don’t know, stronger. M-more distant, older even.”

I nodded. 

“Is that a problem?” I asked, sharper than I meant to. 

Cass didn’t flinch. “No. Just… different.” 

I looked at Luna, still asleep. Her breathing was steady, like nothing had changed.

 “I don’t have time to be soft anymore,” I said. “Not when people like her are depending on me.” 

Cass tilted her head. “You think being soft is weak?” 

I blinked. “In this world? Yeah.” 

She scoffed. “Funny. I thought strength was doing what’s right even when it hurts.”

 I turned to her. “And what if doing what’s right gets people killed?” 

Cass didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to Luna, then back to me. “Then maybe you’re not the only one who gets to decide what’s right.”

That hit harder than I expected. I looked away, jaw tight. “I didn’t ask for this,” I muttered. 

“No one did,” she said. “But here we are.”

Silence settled between us. 

“I miss silence,” Cass said quietly.

 I raised an eyebrow. “We’re surrounded by it.” 

“Not this kind,” she replied. “The good kind. The kind that doesn’t feel like it’s holding its breath.”

I didn’t respond�"because she was right. This silence was the kind that came before something broke. Luna began to stir, and I watched as her hair stuck to her face. She sat up and yawned loudly. “Where am I?” she mumbled. “Camp,” I answered.

Her stomach growled loudly, and her face turned bright red. “Is there any food?” she asked sheepishly. I had no answer�"we had eaten without her, and there was a chance that there wasn’t any left. 

“Don’t worry,” Cass said, pulling a carefully wrapped taco from behind her. “I wasn’t that hungry.” 

“Where were you keeping that?” I asked, shock clear in my voice. 

She grinned. “I have my ways.”

She handed the taco to Luna, who accepted it with eager hands. Luna tore into the silver foil, her eyes wide with anticipation. As she took a bite, her expression melted into bliss�"eyes closed, savoring every flavor. 

Maybe she’s fine, I thought. Maybe we’ll all make it out alive. 

Don’t count on it, that small voice said. You’ve changed, and they fear you for that. You don’t need their comfort, you need control. 

They’re my friends. They won’t leave me, I snapped back. Especially her. 

She’s smiling now. Will she still be smiling when she sees what you’ve become? it answered smugly. 

I faltered. Maybe I really was on my own.

“Sage,” Luna said softly. “Are you okay?” 

I smiled, though inside I felt like I was dying. “Yeah, just tired.” 

She looked like she didn’t believe me, but she didn’t have the energy to question me. 

“Sage,” Cass said, her voice full of worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes,” I answered. “How many days has it been?” 

She looked slightly confused. “Uhh, I think it’s been four�"no, three days. Yeah, three days.” 

“D-Do you think I should go?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. 

She ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. It’s up to you.”

  “That’s the thing. Knowing Zayden, he’s gonna try something, and that means anything could happen.”

  “Go prepared,” Luna said, her words muffled by food.

The sound should have been funny, but instead it twisted in my chest. Prepared. For what? For him? For myself? The silence pressed closer, as if it knew the answer. And for the first time, I wondered if leaving camp meant leaving them too.

The tent was stifling, its cloth pressing down like a weight. 

Cass and Luna sat nearby, their eyes fixed on me, waiting for words I couldn’t find. 

I rose slowly, the silence stretching between us. 

“I need to think,” I said, my voice steady but softer than I intended. 

Cass frowned, worry flickering across her face. Luna tilted her head, chewing her lip, but neither spoke. They knew better than to challenge the SouthLord�"even if I was still Sage to them.

The guards outside shifted as the flap stirred, but I didn’t step through. I stayed inside, pacing the narrow space, the shadows of the canvas walls bending with each movement. 

They don’t follow you because they love you. They follow because they fear you. The words echoed in my head. 

I exited the tent, it reminded me of the power I had and the responsibility to care for my Wing. I felt overwhelmed, my mind was racing. Too many people counted on my decisions, and if they died�"I had to carry the weight of that death upon my shoulders. 

I rubbed my temples hoping it would get rid of the ache I had behind my eyes. 

You're not getting rid of me so easily, The voice said smugly. I am a part of you.

I groaned in frustration.

 Where is my spear? I thought to myself.

I heard light steps behind me. 

I whipped around, it was Aries. In his hand was my spear�"dried blood clung to its tip. I glared at him, but he continued toward me.

 “Here,” He said coldly, tossing my spear at me. “Stay safe.”

I turned, not caring that I should respond to him. 

As I walked up the stairs, the cold, drafty air felt like it followed me. I shivered�"not because of the cold, but because of the presence I felt. I hadn’t noticed it down in the theater wing. But now in the open air, it felt suffocating. 

I fought with myself on whether I should go meet Zayden or stay and protect my wing. 

What if I  go and it’s a trap, I thought.  I’d die.

And if it isn’t? A voice shot back.

Click. Click. Click.

I snapped my head around and saw Damien, his once beautiful gray eyes now dark and bleeding inky tears. He came at me quickly, shoving me against the wall. Unlike the others, he had no smile upon his face.

My spear clattered to the floor.

 I grinned. 

Finalllyyy, the voice said gleefully. Shove him, it’ll probably surprise him causing him to lose balance. . . I think.

With a guttural yell, I slammed my shoulder into him, a brutal, full-body motion. He gasped, the impact sent him stumbling back. Just like the voice said he would.

I hadn’t realized I was laughing until I heard it echo through the halls. It sounded manic, crazed. I placed my hand on my chest, but it was cold and felt unfamiliar. He slowly rose back up, his hair slightly messy. 

He once again ran at me. I dodged�"but just barely. I felt my grin fade; I flicked my eyes to my spear�"it was at his feet. Damien noticed and kicked it aside. That was when I felt it�"fear. My heart was caught in my throat, and I felt a cold sweat starting. That was when he spoke.

“Where are they?” It asked mockingly. I held my hand up, my only means of protecting myself from this monster. 

“Who do you mean?” I asked. He walked a step closer, and I saw my hand shaking. 

“Tell me where they are,” it growled. 

“Just infect me!” I screamed, my arms outstretched in defeat.

He stared back at me. “Tell me,” It spat, anger lacing its voice. 

“Why won’t you infect me?” I cried. “Let me go home!”

His lip curled in disgust. It was clear the thing was speaking through him. “You are too important,” it said simply. “You will lead us to them, whether you realize it or not.”

My fear faded. “You can threaten me�"hurt me even,” I hissed. “But you will never, ever find SouthWing. And if you do, I will kill you. And I will enjoy it.”

“We will find them with or without your help. The latter ends in blood.”

“I will protect my wing. I swear to the God above.”

It snorted. “Then death it shall be.”

As I watched them walk away, the world seemed to slow, anger clouding my mind. I lunged at Damien, my hands wrapping around his throat. His body gasped in surprise, clawing at me in panic. That only made my grip tighten. He tried again and again to throw me off.

The part that confused me was that they were panicking. “Please,” they gasped. I faltered�"just long enough for them to hurl me away.

I hit the wall with a sickening crack. Blood dripped down the side of my head, a ringing filling my left ear. My vision blurred, my left eye half�'blinded by the blood flow. I looked up at Damien, the thing inside him staring back.

I kept my eyes on it, wary that if I looked away he would strike. I edged closer, body tense, every muscle screaming at me to move faster, but instinct forced me slow. The spear gleamed faintly in the dim light, a promise of survival if I could reach it.

Damien’s body tilted its head, the thing inside him studying me with a predator’s patience. Its lips curled into something between a grin and a snarl. “You crawl like prey,” it whispered, voice low, mocking. “Do you think the spear will save you?”

I ignored the words, my breath shallow, my fists tightening until my knuckles ached. Another step. Another inch. The floor beneath me felt alive, every scrape of my skin against stone echoing too loud.

The spear was close now. Close enough that I could almost feel its weight in my hands. My heart hammered, not from fear, but from the strange certainty that if I touched it, something inside me would change.

Damien’s body moved suddenly, a twitch that sent a jolt through me. I froze, teeth bared, ready to spring. Its eyes glowed faintly, unnatural, and for a moment I thought I saw Damien himself staring back, trapped, pleading.

I lunged, fingers wrapping around the shaft of the spear. The familiar weight burned against my skin, and a surge of energy shot through me, wild and untamed. It laughed, as it dodged my blow. I swiped again, and this time the spear grazed his arm. My grip tightened on the spear, and for the first time, I felt the balance shift.

“You cling to wood,” it rasped, voice scraping like bark. “Do you think sticks will save you?”

A new sense of anger flooded my limbs, the image of his pale body in the earth burning behind my eyes. If I die, all of those who died cold and afraid would have no vengeance. I lunged at Damien, the weight of me knocking the air out of his lungs. 

I scrambled up, keeping him down with my foot. I lifted the spear and brought it down, a splash of blood spurted and hit my face. I stabbed and stabbed, my anger waning slowly. Once I was done, I collapsed in exhaustion. Damien's body leaked a steady stream of blood. Ten times�"that’s how many times I’d stabbed him. 

I wonder if Damien felt it, if he was still there. But a passenger in his own body watching it take control. Watching himself die and bleed, was he still there. There felt like something was breaking in my chest, and something cold seeped into my veins. Any regret or remorse I felt disappeared, just a cold sensation of what I did remained.

“Great job.” A voice said behind me. I whipped around and it was Zayden. His gray-green eyes as calculating as ever. They matched perfectly with his messy black hair. He didn’t look shocked at what I had done. 

“What do you want?” I growled. I wanted to be alone. You could kill him. The thought bubbled from the back of my mind.

“To talk.” He answered simply. As walked toward me, I noticed  he showed no fear. He was always good at that�"hiding what he was feeling, hiding behind those eyes. I reached for my spear, and he stopped in his tracks.

Could he sense that I’m different? I queried. I shook my head, and pointed the spear at his chest. “Leave me alone.” I growled, anger clearly evident in my voice. 

“I found someone I think you would like to see.” He stated. 

I blinked. “Who?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you”

I rose, but still had my spear ready. 

As we walked, I noticed he had a new limp. He looked slightly weaker than the last time I saw him. I looked at his face, his eyes had a slight hint of desperation and hunger. His hands were shaking.

Zayden never seemed like the desperate type�"but starvation can  bring out the worst in people. I was looking around the place when I found a deserted jacket, it had a bit of dried blood caking the left arm but otherwise it was okay. I snatched it up, and slipped it on, finally noticing how cold it was. I fidgeted with the zipper, and rubbed my arms, trying to warm myself up.

Zayden finally stopped when we reached a body that looked vaguely familiar. I gave an inhuman scream as I realized it was Minthe, her red hair matted with blood. The bright pink shirt she wore today was now stained crimson. Her skin was slightly tinted blue and her eyes were glassy. The blood around her was starting to dry and I cried into her hair. 

She was cold, lifeless and there was nothing I could do about it. She seemed peaceful, she was probably looking down at me as I sobbed into her body. 

Stop, the voice hissed. Emotion is weakness, you need power.

Tears stopped streaming down, and my face went slack. I stood up, and dragged her outside. Zayden followed me.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

I ignored him and continued dragging her body. I didn’t stop until I reached the old oak�"the one where she used to read. I laid her down at its base and dropped to my knees, digging into the earth with my bare hands. Soil packed beneath my nails, cold and sharp, but I didn’t care.

I worked in silence until my fingers struck the thick roots of the oak. Gripping my spear, I snapped the ones blocking the space where she would rest. When they broke away, the hollow beneath them felt right.

I pulled her into the grave I’d carved, and her body landed with a quiet, final thud. I placed the frozen flowers in her hands, arranging them as if she could still feel them, and then pushed the dirt back over her.

I remember when it was just the two of us in that house, before everything cracked open. Back then, mornings were slow and warm, sunlight drifting through the curtains, the smell of toast and coffee filling the kitchen. It felt like the world was small enough to understand. Safe enough to trust.

Then the police came.

They didn’t knock. They exploded through the door, splintering the frame and flooding the house with shouting and heavy boots. Mom spun around so fast the plates she’d been carrying slipped from her hands. They shattered across the tile, scattering breakfast and ceramic shards like a warning shot.

Minthe screamed. She threw herself at Mom, arms locked around her waist, her face buried in the fabric of Mom’s shirt. She held on with a desperation that made the whole room feel like it was collapsing inward. And Mom… Mom held her back. Even as the officers grabbed her arms, even as they pulled her away, she kept her hands on Minthe for as long as she could, her fingers trembling like she was trying to memorize her.

I stood there, frozen, watching the way Mom’s eyes stayed glued to Minthe. Not me. Not once.

And I felt that familiar sting �" the one I’d learned to swallow years ago.

Minthe was always her favorite.

I used to pretend it didn’t bother me. I used to tell myself it didn’t matter. But in that moment, watching Mom cling to her like she was the only thing worth fighting for, something ugly twisted inside me. Something sharp. Something I hated myself for feeling.

Because the truth was… sometimes I hated Minthe for it.

For being the one Mom reached for.

For being the one she cried over.

For being the one she whispered to at night when she thought I was asleep.

But even as that bitterness rose in my throat, another truth sat right beside it �" heavier, deeper, impossible to shake.

I loved her.

God, I loved her more fiercely than I ever admitted out loud.

More fiercely than I loved anyone else.

And that was the part that hurt the most.

When the officers finally tore them apart, Minthe’s sobs filled the house. Mom’s eyes followed her �" only her �" until the very last second. Then she looked at me, and her expression shifted. It hardened. It steadied. It carried a weight she needed me to take.

“Protect your sister,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “No matter what happens, stay with her. I will come back for you both… just not right now.”

Then she was gone �" dragged out into the flashing lights and cold morning air.

Everything after that blurred. A social worker with a soft voice. A car ride that felt too quiet. A foster home that smelled like lemon cleaner and someone else’s memories. Minthe clung to me every night, her fingers gripping my shirt the same way she’d gripped Mom’s. She didn’t ask why Mom didn’t look back at me. She didn’t ask why Mom’s last words were all about her.

She didn’t have to.

I already knew.

Those weeks in foster care felt like drifting �" like we were suspended in a place that didn’t belong to us. Minthe barely spoke. She followed me from room to room, her eyes always searching, always waiting for something she couldn’t name.

And even though part of me still felt that old bitterness, that old ache of being second place, I kept her close. I held her when she cried. I whispered Mom’s promise to her at night. I told her she was loved, even when I wasn’t sure she believed it.

Because Mom was right about one thing:

Minthe was all I had.

But now she was gone, and I felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The cold inside me spread, settling into the spaces where grief should have lived. It was strange �" I knew I should be screaming, breaking, tearing at the earth until my fingers bled. I should’ve been begging the world to rewind, to give me one more hour, one more breath, one more chance to protect her like I promised.

Instead, I just stared at the mound of dirt covering her, the frozen flowers trembling in the wind. My chest felt hollow, scraped clean. The voice inside me hummed with approval, curling around my thoughts like smoke.

Good.

Weakness is gone.

Now you can become what you were meant to be.

I didn’t answer it. I didn’t have the strength to argue, or the will to agree. I just stood there, swaying slightly, the spear still clutched in my hand. Blood �" Damien’s blood �" had dried on my knuckles, flaking whenever I moved.

Zayden hovered a few steps behind me. I could feel his eyes on my back, sharp and calculating, but there was something else there too. Something like uncertainty. Maybe even fear. He wasn’t used to seeing me like this �" quiet, still, emptied out.

“You buried her,” he said softly. Not a question. Just an observation.

I didn’t respond. My throat felt tight, like speaking would shatter something fragile inside me.

Zayden shifted his weight, wincing at his limp. “You didn’t have to do it alone.”

A bitter laugh scraped out of me �" dry, humorless. “I’ve always done it alone.”

He didn’t argue. He knew it was true.

The wind rustled the branches above us, and for a moment I imagined Minthe sitting there again, legs dangling, book in her lap, humming under her breath. She used to hum when she read �" a soft, tuneless sound that drove me insane. I’d snap at her to stop, and she’d just smile like she knew something I didn’t.

Sometimes I hated her for that too.

For being so bright.

For being so loved.

For being everything I wasn’t.

But I loved her more fiercely than any of that. More fiercely than I ever admitted. More fiercely than I knew how to handle.

And now she was gone.

I wiped the last clump of dirt from my palms and rose, the cold weight inside me as heavy as the soil I’d just shoveled. The spear felt wrong in my grip now �" too long, too slow, too honest. They didn’t give you the luxury of distance.

“Take me to the art wing,” I said.

Zayden hesitated, eyes narrowing. “That’s where Northwing’s camp is.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “Just get me there.”

He didn’t argue. He only nodded, and we moved through the wrecked halls of the school in silence. Broken lockers, shattered glass, and the smell of decay pressed against us at every step. The further we went, the more I realized I hadn’t thought about the camp at all �" not the people, not the politics, not the man leading them. I just knew I needed somewhere safer. Somewhere with walls. Somewhere I wouldn’t have to bury anyone else today.

When we reached the art wing, Zayden paused, gesturing to the space ahead. “You sure you want to go in there? It’s crowded, and my people�"”

“I’ll manage,” I said.

The classroom was alive with light and noise. Makeshift barricades lined the walls, and survivors moved between tables cluttered with supplies. I hadn’t realized how many were here �" how many had gathered under one roof, breathing the same stale air, clinging to the same fragile hope.

Then the guards at the entrance snapped to attention. The second one’s voice cut through the chatter.

“Northlord Rook.”

The title hit me like a shock.

Zayden �" Rook �" didn’t flinch. He dipped his head slightly, a gesture so small but full of authority that even the crowded room seemed to lean back.

“At ease,” he said, calm and commanding.

The guards relaxed slightly, but their eyes stayed sharp, tracking me as if I were a puzzle they hadn’t decided how to solve.

“She’s with me,” Zayden said, voice low and precise.

That was enough. The room didn’t erupt; it didn’t question him. It was simply accepted. The weight of his name and his presence settled over me like a second skin.

And only then did it hit me: I hadn’t just followed a guide through the halls. I had followed the Northlord himself �" Zayden, the man who held this wing together, who commanded loyalty without raising a hand.

I clenched the improvised tool in my hand, feeling its crude weight, and realized that survival wasn’t just about strength anymore. It was about knowing whom to trust.

And I had just stepped into the lion’s den.

Author's Note

ignore the grammar issues, i suck and i know it

Reviews

[Elsa 123]

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