After World (Gar Bluemoon Fanfic)

Forbidden

Can you imagine what it must be like to fly? There are Tracers who can fly. They can be seen every day jumping off their balconies and gliding off into the distance, outside of the city where the Wasters reside. I remember when I was a little girl I would watch them every morning. I was mesmerized by their beauty and grace as they took flight. They soared through the air like the planes you learn about in school. I've always been fascinated by the Tracers, although I've never had the opportunity to meet one. Young Tracers aren't allowed in our schools, and most adult Tracers are accustomed to avoiding us because that's what they were always taught to do. 

I looked out across my balcony as I did every morning. I'm long out of my childhood now. Although, even as an adult at 23 years, I'm under constant survelience and scrutiny; being a descendant of a Head Elder and everything. But to this day, I still think about what it must be like to fly. Although, some Tracers have abilities even more fascinating than flight. I studied them when I was in post-education. I wanted to work in combat training station; to be able to analyze and train Tracers directly. My father had other plans for me, however. So instead I'm stuck getting all primped and primed day in and day out to be the poster child for the city's Next Generations campaign.

Don't get me wrong. I love my family and my heritage, but nothing hurts more than having your individuality stripped away from you. I used to wish that I had been born a Tracer; that by some mysterious chance I would have broken the bloodline and been apart of the Affected. Yet I always thought about what it would be like to be yanked from my family and be deemed an outcast, and that seemed like the worse of the two. 

As the sun began to creep over the city, I decided to leave my balcony and prepare for my day of work. Although, I really had nothing to prepare because everything was done for me upon arrival. I pulled on my usual attire of all white. All Head descendants were required to where all white when out among the general public. It was to distinguish us not only from the Tracers, but also the common Purebloods. I hated everything about it, personally. I hated being put on a pedestal. 

I grabbed everything I need, and decided to head on out. I figured I would stop by the park on my way across town. The park was a wonderful place to go when you just wanted to relax. I stopped here often. Something was different today though. As I approached the park, I noticed it was completely vacant and had a bit of a eerie feel to it. I just brushed it off as emotional instability. I walked to the center of the park where my favorite bench was located. It was surrounded by what could be considered a small maze of hedges that provides a very serine privacy. I made my way through the hedges and sat at the covered bench. The sun shown just slightly above the edges of the easternmost hedge. I pulled out my drawing pad and flipped to a page in it that contained an illustration of a Tracer I had study in post-education. She was able to shift her molecules until she was entirely invisible. She was a girl about my age, with shoulder length blonde hair. She had a strong build, and an attitude to match. That was my favorite thing about her, even though I never actually got to speak to her. She was always the most fascinating to me. 

As I sat adding details to my illustrations, I heard a low growl start to approach behind me. I tensed up at the sound, and froze dead in my seat. I listened as it grew closer and closer, until I could feel the breathe of someone, or something, on the back of my neck. At this point, adrenaline finally kicked in. I quickly bolted from my seat and ran to the quickest route I Knew out of the maze, but I could tell that whatever this thing was wasn't far behind me. As I exited the maze, I paused for just a moment, long enough to see what was behind me. Waster. I didn't know how, Wasters never came more than 5 miles outside of the city, but there it stood right in front of me. I turned to sprint again, but it was quicker than me. In one fluid motion the beast leapt forward and jerked my legs right out from under me. This was it. My life was about to end in the most peaceful place in my overly protected city. The Waster raised its contorted arm into the air to strike me.

But before it could swing, the ground beneath us began to shake, then suddenly the Waster flew straight up in the air.

I shook myself from my momentary shock, and turned to see someone else standing about 15 feet away from me. It was a dark haired guy, who looked to be about my age, and his hands and forearms were glowing a bright royal blue. He was a Tracer. I quickly jumped to my feet and ran to stand behind him. I watched as he directed the peace of Earth carrying the beast using just his hands. With one quick swing downward, he sent both objects hurling back down to Earth resulting in a bone crunching sound. Dust cleared from the impact, and I thought we were in the clear. Then suddenly, the beast bolted at us both. Using his right hand, the guy pulled another piece of ground up without a single touch. Just as he was he was lifting has hand to fling the piece at the Waster, the beast suddenly dropped to the ground and began writhing in pain. The dark haired boy turned his head to the right, and I followed his gaze to see another guy in a beanie sprinting across the field. He had bits of luminescent light flinging off of him; it looked like the actual embodiment of electricity. I watch as he flung bits of the light towards the Waster, rendering it unable to move. Then suddenly, almost out of thin air, a girl appeared next to the beast and slit it's throat.