Ivory Chronicles

Act II - Revolutionary Insurgency Part 9

Past, Present, and...

Two days had passed since we all got together, and everyone was talking about what happened in the old city of Urices. The TV news made us out to be bad news, but people online saw us differently. They were even asking us to come to their towns to help.

I couldn't help but think about how people's attitudes toward us were changing, especially since the protest against Senator LaBorda. That day, Mateos got arrested, but not before he used his powers to save many protesters. He helped those who got hurt or couldn't move because of the tear gas and the police's brute force. Now, when I overhear people talking in the streets and stores, they're saying good stuff about us. It looks like we're starting to win some support. But with all these people looking up to us, I feel the pressure building. We need to be careful about what we do next.

Today was also the day the big storm was supposed to hit, and we still hadn't heard anything from Lucía. Ivory was trying to call her non-stop, but Lucía wasn't picking up. She kept telling me to call her, but I was pretty nervous about it – Lucía can be really intense. So, in the end, Ivory just teleported us right where Lucía lives. It's in an old building not too far from the Capital.

As I hesitated at the building's gate, Ivory was having none of it. "Well, you go on ahead. You let me know how it goes." I tried to excuse myself, hoping to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Lucía.

But Ivory was quick to pull rank. "Oh no, you don't. You're coming with me whether you like it or not. You're the leader, and we need her. You know she hates me, right?" she said, her grip firm on my hand as she began to tug me inside. Her grip was surprisingly strong, hinting at the hidden power she possessed.

I trailed behind, reluctantly. "I think she hates me too," I admitted, recalling our last awkward conversation. "I didn't give her a clear answer the last time we talked, and we haven't spoken since Arlo's death. Which I think she blames us for, too."

"She blames everyone for everything but never herself." Ivory retorted with a hint of bitterness.

I had no response to that. The conversation fell into an uneasy silence as we ascended the old staircase, winding around the non-operational elevator. The building, with its peeling paint and creaking steps, felt like a relic of a different era.

As we ascended the creaky staircase, I caught a glimpse of the central courtyard below. My gaze drifted upwards to the glass roof, a later addition to the building that allowed light to filter through. I imagined this place in its heyday, vibrant and full of life, with rainwater cascading into a fountain below, nourishing plants and serving the community's needs. It must have been a sight – a bustling hub where people gathered, surrounded by the soothing embrace of nature.

Now, it was a shadow of its former self, the fountain, and plants replaced by concrete and stones, devoid of the life and communal spirit it once harbored.  Things have changed, not just in this building but across the entire island. As we continued our ascent, I couldn't shake the feeling of loss – for the building, for Arlo, for the island as a whole. But there was also a sense of purpose, a determination to bring back some of what we'd lost, starting with mending fences with Lucía.

We finally reached the top floor of the building, both of us out of breath. "Finally!" Ivory gasped, clearly relieved to be at the end of our climb.

"Do you even know her apartment number?" I asked, a sense of dread creeping over me. I was afraid Ivory would say what I was thinking.

Ivory just laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You should know me by now and how I do things. I'll take the left side, and you take the right." And there it was - we were about to knock on every door, hoping to stumble upon Lucía's.