Fyra (First Draft)

Twenty Three

Fyra squinted at the light as she followed Mariah up an earthy staircase. She was finally being brought back to the land of the living.

"How long was I down there?" asked Fyra.

"One week."

Fyra nodded slowly. What had been a mere week above ground had felt like an eternity underneath it. She had been separated from reality for seven whole days, and it seemed like she hadn't formed a single coherent thought while locked away.

Every instinct in her body was shouting at her to run, to knock Mariah upside and make a break for it. She knew she would never make it outside the castle gates, not only because of the many guards, but because of the remains of the ball gown that she still wore. The gown that once held elegance was now tattered and grimy, and smelt of earth and sweat. It could prove difficult to scale any walls or defend herself in the heaping dress.

Still, she felt exposed and unsafe. If it ever came to a fight or flight situation, Fyra would have fled before the threat had the chance to draw its sword.

Silence hung in the air as they neared the top of the stairs. A dome of earth greeted them, like a portal back to the world. An impish looking boy leaned against the entryway, showing his crooked grin. It was for the best that she hadn't decided to make a break for it. She would have been surprised by this boy, and while she had no doubt a strong blow to the throat or groin would send him flailing, she wouldn't have been prepared for a threat so soon in her escape.

"What's the password?" He said. Fyra smiled.

Mariah frowned. "Cut it out, Eli. No time for messing around."

Eli rolled his eyes. Turning to face Fyra, he stuck out his hand. "Eli, at your service." Fyra shook his outstretched hand, surprised that the reedy boy had such a strong grip.

"I'm Fyra. Pleasure to meet you."

"Don't bother with the formalities," snapped Mariah. "We haven't the time. And besides, he knows who you are."

"What's got your goat, Mara?" Said Eli, wiggling his eyebrows. Fyra said nothing, though she had been wondering the same thing. The girl seemed tense and ready to dispose of Fyra and the rumors that circulated her.

"Don't call me that," was all she said. Eli rolled his eyes and tired to Fyra.

"Fire magic, eh?" Eli said, glancing into her eyes and then at her hair. "We had two, but Tori wasn't nearly as powerful as...Marcus"

He said the name hesitantly, as if he were worried someone may overhear. Curious, Fyra asked, "What happened to him?"

"He deserted," said Mariah with curt detachment. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"He disappeared, because he was involved with the Army of Shadows." Eli whispered. "At least, that's what the rumors say."

Fyra shuddered. Though she hadn't heard anything but half-whispers about the guild that was rumored to still exist, the name sent a whip of fear through her. Though they hadn't labeled themselves, people across the country knew of the malevolent guild as the "Army of Shadows."

They weren't just a guild, they were a cult, slipping in and out of the shadows as they saw fit. Their reputation for ruthlessness left the mouths of mothers when they whispered warnings to children, describing what went bump in the night. Whispers made way for a cloud of terror that hovered around their name. Members basked in the fear they spread, feeding off pain and siphoning suffering.  Chills ran down Fyra's spine once again. She snapped back to reality when Mariah began to speak.

"If I were you, Elias, I'd shut the hell up already. That gossip has no substance whatsoever."

From behind Mariah, Eli made a face, mimicking her words with the look one would wear if they sniffed at curdled milk. Fyra held back a laugh, but she couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Eli grinned, but said nothing else.

Fyra was quiet as they walked, unable to discern their location. Mariah led them down what looked like a dirt road, but Fyra struggled to look beyond the edges of the path. As far as she could tell, they were the in a forest. However, when she tried to focus on their surroundings, her mind could only grasp at blurry images before they slipped away. Someone, or something, didn't want her to know where she was.

Her feet were a deadweight as she shuffled along the gravel, trying not to wince as tiny stones tore through the flimsy shoes she wore. Her mind was frantic, tearing through the void of her thoughts like it were nothing more than parchment. Every question that surfaced was drowned out by the ocean of uncertainty that roared in her ears.

Her footfalls came to an abrupt halt as she collided with Mariah, who had, without warning, stopped.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" Mariah sighed, rolling her eyes. "These are our barracks. You'll be rooming with our other fire user, Tori."

Elias winked. "Have fun with that one. She's a spitfire if I've ever met one." Fyra laughed softly, but it fell flat with a glare from Mariah.

"Well I'll be heading off then," said Eli as he walked away, leaving Fyra alone with Mariah.

"Here's the drill. I'm going to bring you to your room, and you'll stay there until tomorrow morning, when Tori will bring you to breakfast and training." Mariah crossed her arms, staring at Fyra with a mix of condescension and annoyance.

"I don't want to pry, but is everything alright?" Fyra asked. "You seem...different somehow."

Mariah scowled. "Let's not get all buddy buddy, alright? I'm not your friend."

Without another word, Mariah turned away, walking into the barracks. Fyra sighed as she followed the other girl, making no attempt to question her further.

In all honesty, what she needed now was a long nap. Sleeping in a dirt cage hadn't been the most comfortable, and soreness crept up her neck, sapping at her strength. When they made it to the bare room, Fyra sat on the bottom bunk, watching as Mariah turned over her shoulder once, and walked off.

Fyra wondered what her deal was. When she had brought her food while she was imprisoned, Mariah had seemed likable. Perhaps something was bothering the girl and this cold front was only temporary, but Fyra couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was missing something.

She shook her head, laying back onto the simple sheets of the bed. It may have been plain and small, but lying on an actual mattress was bliss.

Fyra closed her eyes, shoving down every question and worry that made her want to scream. It was impossible to know why and how she had even made it to this point. Fyra blocked out everything, pretending that nothing terrible had ever happened, that she was still home, with a family that loved her.

When sleep finally found her, she drifted off with a smile on her face.