Legacy of the Birds: Book One of Spark(A MPHFPC Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten

They said, one day, a child of the mother of birds will return, and usher us into a brand new era, a world where persecution of both peculiars and normals no longer exists.
Prophecies will always come true regardless of what we decide to do about it. We're just playing our own parts to prepare for the inevitable end.
"Well, I hope you are right about that, father." Liam Brown said to himself.
*
Emma drove the Aston Martin into the Brown's driveway and jumped out of the car right after she parked.
"Is Aullis alright?" She asked.
"He's already gone when I got back," Liam said. "That thing we encountered back in the factory killed him."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Emma said after a moment of silence. "I'm afraid that creature found Aullis because of us."
"Yes, I'm sure it did," Liam said bitterly. "But apparently he thought he can still get away with it after helping you."
"I don't mean to be rude, but how come you don't seem a bit surprised to see all of these?" John questioned.
"I recognized her." Liam pointed at Emma. "My father was obsessed with the legend of Miss Peregrine's children, always mumbling about some prophecy of savior of Peculiardom. He thinks the person will come from Miss Peregrine's wards."
"I really thought after what happened last time, no one will take prophecies seriously again." Emma sighed.
"What did the prophecy say about Emma?" John asked.
"Something about the children of mother of birds and the savior of Peculiardom. Things like that, I'm not exactly an expert."
"It doesn't make sense," Emma said, "Why would he think Miss Peregrine is the mother of birds? There were many older ymbrynes, and they have their own wards. Some of them may even survive to this day..."
"What's the truth doesn't matter, what matters is people actually believe these crap." Liam interrupted her. "Your story just so happens to be the most famous, so people look up to you."
"And what do you think?" Emma asked him.
"I don't know. We were always told that whatever we do won't be enough to change the way this world is, and it really seems to make sense. But we were also told that none of Miss Peregrine's children survived the battle of Devil's Acre, and here you are. So I figured it's time we take a leap of faith... and if you think about it, we don't really have a choice."
*
They buried Aullis in the backyard. Some purple flowers were transplanted to mark his grave.
"Nightshades, he's favorite plant, graceful but deadly." Liam explained. "He thought it embodies what an ideal rebellion should be like. Now tell me, Emma, what did my father promised you?"
"He said he can lead us to a loop that belongs to an active peculiar rebellion organization." Emma told him.
"I'm sure he can't really do that. My father and I works for the peculiar rebellion, indirectly. We don't come into contact with the organization. We receive our tasks from an informant code named 'Mandrake.'" Liam explained.
"Tasks like the one we 'rescued' you from." John said.
"I don't need your 'rescue.'" Liam said annoyingly. "My father probably thought the arrival of the great Emma Bloom is more important than my mission, which resulted in the death of everyone in that damn factory."
"If you lead us to this Mandrake guy can he provide us information we need?" Emma quickly changed the subject back before it turns into a fight.
"If what you need is the location of their headquarter loop, then yes. But you have to convince him to help you. He can be quite skeptical, you know." Liam answered.
"Great then, how do we find him?" John asked eagerly, secretly relieved that the topic had changed.
"He lives in Pensacola. There's a new train station nearby, but I suggest you wait until tomorrow morning, so I can get you private cabin, easier for you to smuggle weapons in."
"Well, thank you." Emma said.
*
It was a warm, and tender feeling, like something was brushing gently on her skin.
It was her hand. That's where the feeling came from.
And there were something else, a whisper of which the meaning she couldn't tell.
She didn't know when it started, nor did she know when it would end. Or would it ever end?
She hoped it doesn't.
She had a feeling that the whisper was trying to tell her something important.
Someone was reaching out to her through that whisper, someone desperately trying to bring her somewhere else.
Where were she now, anyway?
She hung on to the whisper, like a drifter in the ocean holding on to something afloat.
She opened her eyes for the first time after what felt like forever.
It's a rather simple room. The bed she laid on was clearly just a pile of clothes and pillows–someone had to made it in a hurry. By her side, a boy sat on a chair, staring at the floor. She felt the tenderness of his hand in her own.
"Hi Blanche, you're awake." Blanche was sure John was more than a little nervous to lock eyes with her, despite his casual tone.
Blanche felt his hands slipping away, but she held on to it tightly.
"Don't leave me just yet, John." She said softly.
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured Blanche, while she struggled to sit up from the makeshift bed they made for her.
"What happened? Where are we now?" Blanche asked.
"It's... complicated. You are in a rebel agent's house. Many things happened after I fell out of that truck." John answered. "But I found the person Pensevus wanted me to find, and most importantly, I found you."
Blanche smiled, the first genuine smile she had in a very long time.
"My memories after you fell off the truck was very vague, just some fragments." She frowned, even just some blurry fragments of what she'd been through were too painful to bear.
They both fell silent, their hands clasped together. Just quietly feeling the presence of each other through the contact of skins.
"Tomorrow we are going to Pensacola to meet an informant–
"I'm going with you," Blanche said before John could finish. "Don't try to convince me not to go."
"But you just woke up from a coma!" John protested.
"What good can I do if I'm left here?"
"When a girl gives you that face, don't try to reject her. It won't work."
John turned to see Emma leaning against the door frame.
"How long have you been there?" Blanche asked.
"Long enough." Emma answered. "You must be Miss Blanche. Emma Bloom, at your service."
Blanche's eyes were wide with surprise. "Are you the Emma Bloom, Miss Peregrine's ward?"
"Yes, I am." Emma answered shortly. "Tomorrow we will leave at eight thirty in the morning. Do you know how to operate firearms?"
"Never use one before." Blanche shrugged.
"That's fine, I will teach you later." Then Emma checked her watch. "Well, it's Eleven thirty already. Guess your shooting lesson will have to wait until tomorrow." And she turned to John, "You really should get some rest, tomorrow will be a busy day."
"Wait a minute, where's Pensacola?" Blanche asked.
*
"You should sleep." Emma said.
"I just slept for two days," Blanche replied. "And I'm not a three year old kid."
"Well, I'm no ymbryne, either."
Emma was sitting on the floor, one hand holding an old notebook, a gentle ball of fire dancing on the other.
Blanche sat down next to her. "What are you reading?" She asked.
"An old friend's diary." Emma responded. "I heard about your town, I'm sorry."
"My people made their choice." Blanche replied dismissively.
"I've seen many people make their different choices, all with some noble purpose." Emma said, "But after all this time, I often wonder if they actually believe in those greater cause, or if they had just chosen an easier path. Being left in a world this cruel makes death sounds a lot more desirable." She sighed, "Tell me, Blanche, what were your people holding onto when they chose to fight to the end."
"A hope? A dream? A possibility that this world could be better? We didn't decide to help John because we see him as a messiah or anything, we decided to help him because we believe in our elders' wisdom. We helped because we have faith in the future our elders foretold." Blanche responded. "Maybe you're right. Maybe the only purpose we were left alive was to suffer. But what about those who died? Those who sacrificed for their ideal of a better world? Should we just allow this world to make their lives meaningless?"
"Maybe," Emma answered. "Maybe this world is already far beyond saving, and we're just wasting our lives for an illusion."
"But if you just give up here, how else can you rebel against this cruel world?" Blanche said. "Our lives became meaningless, because someone made them that way. To live, to fight, that's the sole method we can rebel against this cruel world."
Emma didn't say anything, just staring at flames on her palm.
"You know, when I was younger, my families will tell me about the stories of Miss Peregrine's Children. And you were always my hero, I wanted to grow up to be like Emma Bloom, who will never back down in the presence of injustice." Blanche told Emma. "Don't you remember that? Don't you remember what you were fighting for ten years ago?"
"That... was a very long time ago." Emma answered feebly.
How will you look at me now, Jacob? She thought bitterly.
*
The nest day morning, Liam drove them to the train station. It took them almost ten minutes of reasoning to convince Emma that leaving the Aston Martin at Liam's house was a better idea.
"Protect it for me," Emma finally said. "It means more to me than just a car."
John was still wondering what made that vehicle so significant to her on the train. Perhaps he'd never know.
Blanche sat down next to him. "I took some snacks. It's free, for peculiars anyway." She handed him some chocolate bars.
"Thanks. But I'm not hungry." Still, John accepted the snacks. "How are you feeling now?"
"Mostly fine, but something doesn't feel right. Like I'm somehow... emptied. Probably because part of my peculiar soul is on someone's face right now." Blanche laughed darkly.
"Actually, I was going to tell you earlier, you didn't lose your suul completely. I rescued it back there." John took out a carefully wrapped vial from his bag, inside it were silver sparks swimming in the black liquid, a fragment of Blanche's soul.
"Emma said if we one day come across someone who knows these things, you may be able to regain your full peculiarity."
"Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me." Blanche said gratefully. That was a dream she didn't even dare to have.
"I can't even imagine losing part of myself like that. Sorry we couldn't get to you earlier." John handed her the vial.
Blanche wrapped her fingers around John's, and pushed the vial back to him.
She held his hand along with the vial in front of his chest. "Keep this part of me safe, will you?"
"With my life." John promised. "And I also saved your knife." He added.
John handed it to her, and this time she took it, the last earthly reminder of her old hometown, and the families she once had.
A few rows of seats behind, Emma was watching thoughtfully outside the window as Blanche leaned onto John's shoulder.
*
When was the last time she took a train?
Fragments of memory flashed through Emma's eyes.
It all felt so far away, like a tale that ended centuries ago, yet, at the same time, so close, so vivid, like it was all just yesterday.
As if Jacob, Milliard, Hugh, Enoch, and everyone she ever loved were still with her.
She closed her eyes.
She's sure if she looked down, a piece of newspaper would be there, lying on her lap.
If she only read it, she would found that the headline was about London Bombing and the unknown death toll.
"Am I really here?" The boy beside her asked.
She laughed, reality was ever so confusing.
"Go back to sleep." She heard herself say.
"Do you think we will be alright." He asked again.
"Go back to sleep." She said again.
Maybe if she never opens her eyes again, Jacob would be there, forever.
Maybe they will all be there, if she just never wake up again.