Sunlight glinted from my silver blade as it delicately danced around me. The blood of the Watchers became a thick lacquer coat on its tip before sliding from the razor-sharp edge. It was more than just my sword; it was an extension of myself. Even as they poured through the broken wall, none could touch me. So long as I held my blade, none would make it into Divern.

Beyond the growing rise of bodies that surrounded me, I saw him. His scaled, opaque skin looked pale beneath the light of day as he stalked towards me. The Alpha’s glare fixed intently on me as I cut down another Watcher. I felt him grow closer until he was upon me. I swung my blade towards his throat as I'd done countless times towards his comrades, only to be met by a blade of his own.

Our silver clashed loudly as he met each of my strikes, blow for blow. He pushed me back with each thrust of his blade, a menacing smile on his face. The ground grew unsteady beneath me and I stumbled backward, his blade catching my arm. Warm blood poured from me, soaking my greens and coating my bicep. He continued with a renewed passion to turn me. He grinned at the sight of me. Blood dripping from my elbow like a cruel reminder of my mortality.

He swiped again, another impossibly fast movement, slicing my thigh. I dropped to the ground, feeling the muscle fibers tear under my weight. He approached me with speed and strength I've never felt before. He drug me to my feet, his icy hand clasped around my throat. His black eyes were like marbles in his skull as he hissed, “Where is she?”

I couldn't speak, so I shook my head. He asked again and when I shook my head once more, he released my throat. In a swift movement, he fisted my greens at my chest.

“I don't know who you're looking for.” My voice struggled to escape my throat.

“Pity.” He said before hovering his mouth over mine. So close that I felt his warm, sharp teeth brush against my lips. When he inhaled, I felt the blood rush to my face. I felt the burning warmth from within me rush up my throat and out of my mouth. I tried to swallow, but I couldn't stop it. My arms and legs grew cold, as if they'd been dipped in ice water.

My eyes rolled back into my head when he inhaled me again. My heartbeat slowed and my body went limp, only his grasp to hold me up.

“RUE!”

I felt my human soul leaving my body. My mind void of anger, sadness, or fear.

“RUNEL!”

I heard Grisham calling me, but he was too far away. He'd never reach me in time.

“Wake up, Runel!” I felt his warm hands shaking my body as it went rigid with alertness.

My eyes flickered open, my jaw clenched, and my heart raced. His warm, calloused palms gripped the sides of my face. Calming me in the way that only he could, “Runel, breathe. You're okay. I'm here.”

I grabbed my throat and forced a deep inhale.

“There you go. See? You're alright.” Grisham feigned a smile before pulling his hands from my face.

“S-sorry.” I muttered, licking the salt from my lips. “I'm sorry.”

Wiping the snot and tears from my face, I abruptly shot to my feet and stumbled to the bathroom.

“Rue, take it easy.” Grisham called before I slammed the door behind me.

I turned the faucet all the way up and waited for the water to steam. Once the heat rose from the water and grazed my skin, I stepped beneath it. The water fell from the showerhead with such force that I winced. The heat from it was almost unbearable enough to bring me back to reality.

It was a sweet burning sensation that rippled across my skin. I pushed through the initial pain to reach the sweet comfort that followed. I felt my cheeks grow pink from the steam that filled the room. My mind returned from the dream state only to be reminded of my pounding heart. I tried to breathe.

Just because it was familiar, doesn’t mean it was comfortable. It started with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach before crawling across my skin like ants on a carcass. I breathed again. Counting the seconds like Grisham taught me. I let the hot water envelop me. The heat crushed me again, enough to distract me from the crawling prickles on my skin. I closed my eyes for a moment to quell the grinding pain in my chest. I rested my hand over my heart. It was beating so fast.

Stop, Stop, Stop.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Without Grisham there to use his gift, it took a lot longer to regain my footing. The urge to vomit rolled through my body in waves of heat and sickness. Quickly, I turned the hot water off and cold water shot from the faucet in its place. The quick change shocked me and I gasped.

When the gnawing finally subsided, I dropped my hand from my chest. I searched for bruises from last night. My body looked as frail as it felt struggling against Doc. I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked at my naked body. It was no longer insulted by layers of fatty tissue and muscle. Apparently my body had been feasting on my reserves between meals.

Facets were well-fed. Three square meals per day since they needed us healthy. But now, I didn't really think about eating. I thought about Indigo. I tried to recall the last time I actually felt hungry. My stomach didn't growl anymore. Maybe it had given up, stopped begging for food after so many ignored pleas. Maybe it had lost hope like the rest of me.

The water squeaked to a halt, signaling that I'd used up my allotment. I gathered a new undershirt and underwear before retrieving my greens from the floor beside my bed. I noticed a new tear. A small one where the sleeve attached to the shoulder.

“Perfect.” I sighed.

I brushed my long auburn hair, leaving it loose to dry. I let it hang over the side of my face. It roamed freely around me only after my shower. It hung loose over my shoulders and down my back. Free and wild. The look of it never suited me. The mass of it should’ve been attached to some free-spirited, unencumbered person. Perhaps a woman who worked in the apothecary and tended to her garden of herbs while the boys of the colony followed her with puppy-dog eyes. Not a killer. A warrior possessing only a bitter heart. The look of it betrayed me. I contemplated shaving it all off more than once, and I probably would have had my mother not loved it so.

The staircase grumbled beneath my feet. The old planks whining from my intrusion. I skipped the step which Grisham had broken with his careless lumbering. Neither of us cared enough to repair it. This was someone’s childhood home, but it wasn’t ours. We needed a place to live, not a place to be comfortable. The house was still dark, the morning light only just cutting through the darkness. The smell of burning wood led me to the backyard.

Around the fire sat my new traveling party. The Facet Corps ensured the boys were up before the sun. A requirement that I promptly dropped when I abandoned my post.

“Sleeping beauty decided to join us.” The younger Facet was the first to speak. His voice was grating at this hour.

“Keep it down.” I hissed.

I drug my chair to the edge of the fire nearest Grisham. He looked at me with his warm eyes, “You alright, sis?”

I nodded.

Looking around the fire, I took inventory of them. The ones who would intrude on my peace until we completed our mission.

“What's your name, kid?” I looked at the younger Facet. His blonde hair was in need of a good washing. The messy look of him only made him appear younger. His attempt at a mustache didn't help either.

“Kid?” He scoffed. His eyes grew wide. “You're not much older than me, you know?”

“How old do you think I am, kid?” I sneered, drawing that last word out a bit longer than I should've.

“What like…” His eyes scanned me for longer than I'd have liked. I felt my face grow warm. “Nineteen?”

“You think he's nineteen then?” I smirked and gestured towards Grisham.

“Nah he's gotta be around… twenty-six.” The kid replied with a confidence that fit his level of maturity.

“They're twins, idiot. His name's Berkeley. But we call him Burke. And he's an eighteen-year-old kid. ” The older Facet looked directly at Burke as he spoke. “I'm Shelby.”

Shelby was the oldest of the lot of us. His dark hair was peppered with gray. His eyes carried the signature weariness of a senior Facet. Lasting that long in the ranks tested their sanity. Those who lived out adulthood as Facets had a hardness that protected them from the fear of death. A barrier that kept them from getting too close to anyone because they knew how quickly love turned to agony.

“Shelby, Burke.” I nodded. “I'm Runel, this is Grisham. We're twenty-three.”

“I was close.” Burke put a long piece of dried chew stick in his mouth.

My attention turned to the last member of our party. He stared at the fire. The lingering orange light of it danced on his face as the sky turned from black to blue. His expressionless face unmoving as if the flames had him in a trance. His crystal blue eyes caught the flicker of the fire from beneath his shaggy black hair.

I thought of last night, how he'd pulled Doc from me and held him in an arcane grip. He looked radiant then. Bright and strong. Nothing like the weary man who sat before me now. He wore a simple cotton shirt and jeans. Likely a gift from Grisham since they were similar in size. I wanted to ask him what power he carried and when he'd been touched. The words caught in my throat.

“So you work for Casian, then?” Grisham asked the Facets. I closed my mouth and looked towards the fire.

“We do.” Shelby replied. “I’ve been working with him since the last incursion. The kid came along about a month ago.”

“It’s Burke. Not kid.” Burke shot a glance toward Shelby.

“Whatever you say, kid.” Shelby grinned and rubbed his palms together before inching his seat closer to the fire. The morning chill hung in the air as the sun rose.

“I’m not a Facet anymore.” Grisham began as he leaned in towards the fire, “So I want to ask you. How can we trust a couple of lap-dogs?”

He looked directly at Shelby when he spoke, as if the kid’s opinion was of no consequence.

“I was commanded to be the Chancellor’s body guard. Some of us Facets remember the oath.” Shelby replied coolly.

“A Facet’s honor is his word to defend the Colony. To defend the Colony is to defend the Chancellor.” Grisham repeated the words of the oath with ease, though he hadn’t said them since we quit. “But you could’ve pulled rank. Said you're needed in the field. You chose to go along with it.”

“What’s it to you?” Burke cut in. “The Chancellor holds the Colony together. Everyone knows it. Without him, there would be no order. The walls would fall. Divern would fall. Stop spreading rumors, traitor.”

“Shut it, Burke.” Shelby shot a cutting glare at Burke. “I have my reasons.”

“Care to share them with your new comrades?” Grisham asked.

“I don’t know you, Grisham. She’s hardly spoken a word since we were attacked. And that one is in some sort of a walking coma until he gets angry and sparks shoot from his hands. Why on earth would I tell you anything about my decision-making?”

“Because we’re on mission together and you willingly aligned yourself with a fucking murderer.” Grisham replied.

“He’s not a murderer, you fool. That’s all propaganda to divide us. Open your eyes!” Burke shouted from his seat alongside the fire.

“I’m a fool? Kid, you’re living in blissful ignorance. Stay in the ranks long enough and you’ll see it.” Grisham’s gaze returned to Shelby. “Isn’t that right?”

Shelby looked down at his war torn hands, wringing them together.

“Why did Casian come to you? Me and Shelby could’ve handled this. And he wouldn’t have had to bribe us with Indigo. You’re an anarchist. You and your crazy sister.” Burke sneered.

“I’ll show you crazy, kid. Watch your damn mouth!” Grisham’s chair toppled over as he shot to his feet beside me.

I placed my hand on his arm. This kid wasn’t worth Grisham’s worry. He was ignorant, but he was right. The word “crazy” hits differently when it’s true.

“Do you want to know why he came to us, kid?” I asked as Grisham picked up his chair.

“Enlighten me.” Burke sat back and crossed his arms.

“That day, the incursion last year. It was the worst we’ve ever had in Divern. The wall collapsed, and The Watchers came pouring in. They killed Facets, civilians-it didn’t matter. It was easy for them to kill us. Compared to them, we’re mounds of meat and fluid all held together by soft tissue. They can tear us apart with their bare hands, and they did. My comrades bled out before I arrived. Their organs were outside of their bodies, still wet with the blood from their insides. Do you know how many died after me and Grisham got there?”

Burke sat, unmoving. The sunlight poured over us now. His face fully illuminated before me. The color drained from it. This kid had never fought for his life or the lives of his comrades. I was traumatizing him. I subdued a smile and continued.

“None, kid. We killed every last Watcher who tried to cross the wall, and they retreated. We’re Casian’s best bet to find where this latest batch of Watchers is spawning from and take it out. If we hadn’t abandoned our post, we’d be in your shoes. The best to defend our brave ruler. But he let us go. Deserters are killed, aren’t they? But not me and Grisham. Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

I flipped my hair over my left shoulder and began to braid it. “It’s because we were touched. But our skin stayed warm. We didn't turn. We-”

“Rue, that’s enough.” Grisham interrupted.

I nodded and tied off my braid. “We’re a threat to him, but we’re also an asset.”

“You were touched.” Vellum spoke suddenly, causing us all to turn towards him. “You and your brother… Like me…”

“How did you survive, Vellum?” Grisham asked. “Everyone else turns. We’ve seen it.”

“I… don’t know. It happened… so fast…”

“Neither do we.” I said.

“Impossible. So you all have some magic now or something?” Burke asked.

“Vellum appears to. I don’t have any abilities. Grisham has-”

“Enough, Rue.” Grisham interrupted me again. I sighed and pursed my lips.

“You're lying!” Burke shouted.

“We're done talking about this.” Grisham shot me a cutting glance.

“What happened to sharing secrets with your comrades, Grisham?” Shelby lifted an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.

We all sat in silence as the fire burned down to coals. Vellum had a notebook on his lap that I hadn’t noticed before. The leather binding was old and worn. He scribbled away on the pages as the rest of us did our best to avoid direct eye contact with one another. The morning dew settled on the grass surrounding us. Blue Jays called from the branches of the trees that lined the edge of the yard between stumps. I enjoyed this peace that seemed to make the Facets unsettled. Shelby and Berkeley fiddled with their hands and tied their boots. Shelby’s leg bounced rapidly once he had sufficiently re-tied his boots. All the while, the sound of Vellum’s charcoal pencil scratching on his parchment drew in my curiosity. Shelby pressed his hands into his face, rubbing his eyes and cheeks as if to stifle a scream of impatience.

“Alright, great chat. Let’s go fetch our supplies, comrades.” Shelby said before leaving the rest of us in silence.

We left the hospital together, Vellum and the two other Facets in tow. The lot of us mounted our horses and trotted back to the outskirts. No urgency to get back home.

“I don't like this. We can't trust deserters” The younger Facet whispered behind me as if he wasn't within earshot.

I ignored him and hastened Copper to catch up to my twin. Creating space between us and our new cadre.

“Vellum has disorganized thoughts. It was a mess in there. His mind is running all over the place. It's like…” Grisham stopped himself.

“Mine?”

He nodded. “Like yours after the incursion.”

Grisham had helped me pull myself together after the attack as best he could. An impossible task.

“The way he described it-the cave, the people. It seemed real. Like something I've known. Did you feel it too?” I asked.

“I'd be lying if I said no. I just got this feeling that they needed our help. The people out there. I know we're doing this to stop The Watchers from invading Divern, and for the Indigo payout-but I think those people in the Wilds need our help just as much.”

I gripped my pipe tightly, finally removing it from my pocket. From the inner pocket of my greens, I pulled out a small bag with Indigo shards and dropped one into the pipe. I pulled my lighter from the same pocket and lit the shard. It burned like charcoal, releasing a dense smoke that I inhaled deeply before replacing the lighter in my pocket.

I let out a long exhale and looked up at the sky above me. We'd spent the entire day traveling to the center of the colony, “Pink, purple, orange. Two hours to sunset.”

I held the pipe to my brother who shook his head to refuse my offer.

As we walked back to our house, I caught sight of my clients. Wandering the streets of our neighborhood as they often did near dusk. Something about the evening air made them restless. I felt it too. As the sun retreated, my skin crawled with the urge to move. The itch of the fight we'd not face.

One of my clients approached. A gangly looking man who'd once been an abominable force before the incursion. His hair had thinned, and his eyes receded into his high cheekbones. He looked neither asleep nor awake as he staggered towards me. Sensing his need, I hopped down from Copper.

“Hey, Doc. Shipments late.” I spoke as he approached. “Should have more soon.”

“Rue. I just need a little of your stash. Today's been a real bad day. You know what it's like.” His voice was scratchy and distant.

“I know, Doc. I'm sorry. You'll be the first to know when it comes in.” The five of us in the middle of the street, halted by Doc standing before us. Copper began to sway on unsteady hooves, adding to my unrest. The afflicted ones watched from their homes or the darkened spaces between them. All of them waiting to hear if I had something to give them, something to take their suffering away.

“I would, Doc. You know I would. It's just-if I do it for you, it sets a precedent for everyone else. I don't have enough to share with everyone right now.” I felt them getting closer, creeping from their yards like curious kittens. Kittens who grew more ravenous the longer they went without their fix.

Doc had been a Facet in my unit. He was granted leave when he lost his right eye during the incursion. He wasn’t much of a sharp-shooter after the injury. His bow became foreign to him. Ailed by the memories of fighting them and infected by the sickness, Indigo was his lifeline now. The sorrow I extended to him was a thing I was unable to extend to myself. His suffering was my own in a profound way. I experienced his pain when my own evaded me. Denying him relief brought me no joy.

But I couldn't share.

I was just as haunted as the rest of them.

The Watchers killed us by cutting us down, breaking our necks, or bleeding us dry. But some of us didn't escape their grip that easily. We were infected when our blood mingled with theirs. Once infected, the only cure is the antidote. And the only antidote was created by the Cambria Colony. They gave the antidote to many, including Doc, in time, but something lingered in the infected long afterward. They hungered for Indigo, even as they withered away into nothingness. It was the need to escape, but it was more than that. It was the affliction.

The strongest of the Watchers, the Alphas we called them, could turn you. A fate worse than death, worse than affliction. The curse of becoming one of them. Being touched always ended the same.

With two exceptions.

“I thought you understood, Rue. You're one of us. You know what we've seen.” Doc’s hollowed grey eyes met mine. His hunched back made him smaller. He met me, eye to eye.

“Doc,” Grisham spoke from beside me, “do you want me to bring you some peace? We could sit together for a while. It could help while you wait for the next shipment.”

“No,” Doc spoke through muffled sobs, “It's not enough. It never lets me go. You can't stop it, Grisham.”

As Doc looked over shoulder, I realized the afflicted had poured from the shadows and out onto the street. Their sunken grey eyes catching the last drops of sunlight as the moon rose above us. My horse whinnied and tugged at the reins.

“The fuck is happening here?” The younger Facet spoke from behind me. Both the Facets and Vellum drew themselves closer to Grisham and I. Their horses as unsettled as my Copper.

Doc took a step closer to me, his eyes fixed on my pipe. “Just one hit, Rue.”

“Doc, please go back inside before this gets out of hand.” Grisham's voice was hushed and unhurried. It was a warning to Doc. I felt my brother's shoulder brush against mine. Feeling Copper tugging at me, I released her reins. She fled, leaving me to continue my plea. I could calm them down. I had to.

“I can't do it, Grisham. I need that pipe.” Doc's face tightened under the strain of his wanting.

I rested my hand on my brother's forearm. A warning of my own. All the afflicted who looked at us now, the ex-Facets, Surveyors, and Wayfarers, no more than haunted reflections of the fighters they once were. Still, we didn't want to fight them. They'd suffered enough.

“We’ll take from the walls, Rue.” Doc wiped the snot from his nose. “If we have to, we will.”

“Doc, come on now. You know it's too dangerous. The Watchers are waiting for us to slip up. Just hold on for a few days, I promise I’ll-” I uttered my last plea.

But it was too late.

Doc reached for me in a blind fury. Grabbing my wrist, he knocked my pipe to the ground. He ignored it as he grabbed a hold of my jacket to dig into my pockets, looking for any shards I had left. He pulled on my greens and tugged at my undershirt.

The scuffle ensued around us. Grisham and the other two Facets pushed away the afflicted. Instead of breaking their bones or cutting them down, they took mercy on them. Pushing them away and parting the growing crowd towards our house. I felt Doc's cold hands grabbing at me as he looked for my inner pocket. He was familiar enough with the greens to know where I'd hide something valuable.

“Doc, please stop!” My voice grew frantic, his grip stronger than I'd anticipated. “You know I'll take care of you. Just give me time!” I looked around for help, but Grisham had gotten separated from me in the crowd of the afflicted. I couldn't see the other Facets either.

“I can't wait another day, Rue. I need this!” Doc raised his voice in my ear.

Only then did I realize how frail I'd become. In the year since the incursion, I'd hardly been able to get myself out of bed. My days as a Facet were reduced to rotting in bed and the occasional trip to the Gate to collect shipments. My arms, once muscular and lean, were now scrawny and weak. My body refused to move the way it used to. Only when Doc and I tumbled to the ground did I realize my body was fading into affliction.

We grunted as we continued to struggle on the ground. I gripped my jacket as tightly as I could, holding desperately onto my shards. I felt his nails scratching at my skin, my undershirt torn. I curled my body to keep his hands from my pockets. I laid on the ground, helpless as he pawed at me.

“Someone,” I admitted at last, “I need help here!”

I felt the ground beneath me tremble as if a stampede raced towards us. From the corner of my eye, I saw a light growing in brightness above the crowd. The clamor around us grew muffled and distant.

Doc's hands froze, and his startled eyes looked into mine. His body went rigid and I felt the weight of him lift from me. After a moment, I inhaled deeply and sat up, unable to gather the strength to get to my feet. I squinted my eyes through the bright light. Wild black hair and blue eyes stared back at us. No longer in his hospital robes, I saw his strong masculine form. The blues he wore now carried remnants from his struggle at the Gate. The rips and stains evidence of the fight he'd faced.

“Vellum?” I coughed.

The light wrapped around Vellum. It gripped Doc as he hung a few inches from the ground. He was face to face with Vellum. My vision wobbled as if I were dreaming.

“Don't touch her.” Vellum's weak voice was a memory of what I heard now. The ferocity of it wrapped around my body like velvet, warming a small, forgotten spark deep within me.

“Remember my face,” Vellum continued, “because if you harm her, I'll be the one to find you. It'll be my face you see as your soul leaves your body ”

After a moment of silence between them, Vellum inhaled sharply, as if he'd been struck. All at once, the light disappeared and the both of them fell to the ground. Doc scurried off into the darkness like a cockroach and Vellum lay on the ground. His eyes closed, his face peaceful. The light gone aside from the static of his power still crackling in the air around us

“Rue, what happened?” Grisham rushed to my side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” I crawled, pressing my hands to the ground. The darkness obscuring my view. I inched closer to Vellum, my arms and legs weakened from the struggle. I got close enough to Vellum to make out his face and paused. His hair has fallen away from his face to show the definition of his cheeks, the peak of his nose, his hard features relaxed now. The slight part of his lips as he drew breath in and out caught my eye for a moment.

My eyes jerked away as panic gripped my chest.

I continued feeling around as sighed with relief as I found my pipe. I placed it back in my pocket and sat back on my knees. I inhaled hungrily to catch my breath.

“He's like us, brother,” I turned to face Grisham, “He's been touched.”

Touched, but not turned. That makes three of us.

Housing my disdain.

An empty space holds mourning.

I can't try again.

- Mo Bella

I looked up at the icy blackness of the night sky and let three large puffs of smoke escape my lips. Leaning back in the creaky porch chair, I took another large inhale from the pipe. The bitter sting of it left an oaky residue in my throat. The burn traveled deep into my lungs as they filled with the thick purple and blue smoke. I inhaled, my shoulders dropped away from my ears, my eyelids fluttered gently.

In the distance, I heard a great owl calling. It's gentle call rolled through the silence. Though it was sudden, it wasn’t jarring or frightening. Pleasantly deep, it lulled me into relaxation. I rocked back in the chair, hovering the front legs off of the ground. My feet pressed up against the stump of an old tree, long since removed from here. As most things were.

"Time to go." Grisham's voice ran opposite to the owl's call. I dropped my pipe, the legs of my chair landing with a thud on the solid earth beneath me.

"Grisham," I sighed and rolled my eyes, leaning over to dust off my glass pipe, "how many times must you startle me before you accept my high-strung nature?"

"How do you know I haven't accepted it?" He laughed. "Perhaps I just enjoy scaring the heartless maiden."

"And why would you enjoy that?" I took a long puff and inhaled deeply before releasing the smoke into the night sky.

"Because it's the only time I see remnants of the humanness left in you, Runel." His heavy footfalls approached my side before a hand plucked my pipe from my lips.

I watched as he inhaled the sweet smoke. His eyelids fluttering as mine had moments ago.

"Help yourself." I muttered, finally forcing myself to stand. Brushing myself off before meeting his eyes with my own.

Tilting my head upwards, I watched the purple smoke float from his nostrils.

"Ready?" He asked.

His golden-green eyes and short-cropped auburn hair were just as they'd been since he was a boy. His sharp features developed more as he matured into the man he'd become. When we were kids, everyone called us the ‘Tormult twins’. Despite our differences now, our auburn hair and green eyes still gave us away. The only ones like us on this side of the wall.

"The more time you waste, the more pissed he's gonna be," he put the pipe on the stump, "no use avoiding it, Rue."

An exaggerated sigh escaped me and I walked back towards the house. I didn't have to look back to know Grisham followed. The sound of his footsteps trailed closely at my back. The old door creaked loudly though it opened easily. Everything about this place was old, the wall paper peeled from the walls, the wood planks of the floor barely holding together, cracks in the ceiling that threatened to split the place in half. Even the smell was old- dirty and dusty.

"Home sweet home." Grisham muttered.

The kitchen, though clean, was hardly usable. I tried to keep things tidy. It was the least I could do to give it the facade that this place was inhabitable. Crossing the threshold to the front room revealed that the lamps were already lit, illuminating the space just enough to see him.

"You've been avoiding me, Rue." His voice was silk. It was oil in my ears.

"I'd never dream of it." I retorted before coughing into my sleeve. Leftover Indigo working it's way from my lungs.

"Using your own supply, are you?" He asked knowingly.

"In moderation." I plopped down in the armchair across from him. None of the furniture matched here. The cloth fabric of the chair beneath me was ripped, only held together by whatever fastened it to the frame.

Grisham remained standing behind me. These visits always put him on alert. The Chancellor wouldn't dare harm one of his most valuable resources, but Grisham knew what he was capable of.

I hung my arms over the edges of the chair as I slumped back carelessly. Grisham on alert meant that I could relax. As my looks were often deceiving, his weren't. He was precisely as strong as he appeared to be.

"What can we do for you, Chancellor?" I asked through a yawn. I crossed my ankle atop my opposite thigh. I wore the same boots I had during the incursion, the same jeans -tattered and torn. Not that I had much choice anyway.

The Chancellor sucked his teeth as he ran his eyes over my shoddy posture. No doubt irritated by my lack of formality. He came to his feet, his uniform neatly pressed and clean. Shoulder pads secured in place to give a more masculine appearance than was natural to him. Short black hair slicked over his head giving it a shine that reflected the flames from the lamps. His glasses did the same, making it hard to read the expression of his eyes.

"There was an incursion at the North Gate." His voice turned grave. It had been a year, almost to the day, since the last incursion. Since the last time I took off these damn boots.

"How many?" I asked, feeling tired already.

"We slaughtered fifteen at the gate before the rest retreated.” He picked up his hat which he'd set on the end table and began turning it in his hands. As if he knew my next question.

"How many did we lose?" I asked again, leaning forward.

"Five Facets. Six Wayfarers." His eyes remained drawn to his hat as he spoke. Their deaths were his shame.

"How did we suffer so many casualties?" Grisham cut in. His voice just loud enough to reach The Chancellor.

"We sent for more antidote from the Cambria Colony. The Surveyor teams were sent ahead and cleared the wilderness. It should've been safe."

"Did anyone survive the attack?" I asked.

"Only one. A Wayfarer. He hasn't spoken since we recovered him." The Chancellor replied.

"Casian," I repeated with more disdain than compassion, "what exactly are you expecting us to do about this? Did you forget? We're not indebted to you anymore. This is your mess. You clean it." I stood up, turning my back to him and facing Grisham.

"Indigo," The Chancellor muttered, "the Wayfarer team stumbled upon a hold of it when they tried to escape."

I froze. My affliction was also my for-profit, slightly illegal, endeavor. I spoke through clenched teeth, "I imagine in their desperation to flee, they failed to draw a map?"

"You want it don't you, Rue?" When I turned to him, his eyes were touched by the tip of his grin, "I know your sources aren't as plentiful as they once were here in Divern. And you're not one to travel to the other colonies these days."

"I didn't say I didn't want it, Chancellor," I stared back at him, "I'm just in no hurry to die, either."

I felt a breath in my ear and tipped my head towards it, "Let's talk to him, Rue. The survivor." Grisham whispered, "He might have enough information to get us there."

I sighed, "so you want us to find out where the Watchers came from and the Indigo we find out there is ours?"

"If-," His voice hung on the word, "if you find where they came from, how they were able to ambush us, then I'll let you back into Divern with all the Indigo you can carry."

The Chancellor liked to pretend our Indigo affliction didn't benefit him as much as it did me. He knowingly reaped the rewards of a chemically dependent populace that cared more about their rocks than their rulers.

“Why not just send another team of Wayfarers and Facets?” I asked.

“I don't want to draw the attention of the other colonies by pulling away our crews. I want to keep this quiet.” He replied.

Despite his true motives, he was right. Our stores were running incredibly low. I'd burned too many bridges with the Angore Colony to rely on their plentiful supply. The journey through the wilds was treacherous. I hadn't ventured outside the walls since the war, but I remember it well. The thought of it sent a shiver through my body. We relied on what my only remaining contact from Angore would send. And the store we'd found beneath this house. The one we kept hidden from wanting eyes.

Still, it wasn't enough and the people of Divern depended on us. The people depended on Indigo. We depended on Indigo.

"Who am I to stop giving the people what they need?" I held out my hand, "Right, Chancellor?"

He shook my outstretched hand. That wolfish grin creeping over his face, "Pleasure as always, Rue."

"Take us to the Wayfarer." Grisham demanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We followed The Chancellor to the front of the house where his Facets awaited him, sitting high atop their horses. Horseback was the preferred method of travel when the gas pumps ran dry years ago. Looking up and down the streets, bodies of motor vehicles sat idle. Frames rusted, tires flat, stripped completely bare for parts. No one bothered to move them on the outskirts of Divern. Their dilapidated forms merely accented the deteriorating road beneath them.

Horses grazed on overgrown yards in front of houses that should've been condemned. Fifteen years ago, they would've been, but not now. Since Indigo arrived, we've had much bigger problems. Preventing incursions, securing antidotes and goods from the other colonies, and my own personal mission-feeding the Indigo affliction.

Grisham and I mounted our horses. Following close enough to see, but far enough to whisper to one another. As twins, much was unspoken, making private conversation practical.

“Plan?” I asked before cupping my hand over a deep cough.

Grisham nodded.

“The usual?” I asked.

He nodded again, “If it ain't broke…”

“Don't fix it.” I finished his thought, the phrase mom always used.

We made our way through Divern. Slowly, the streets became neater, fewer barren car frames. Weeds peeking through the broken asphalt had been plucked away by Keepers. The houses grew larger the closer we got to the center of town. I enjoyed rides through this part of the colony for one reason-the laughter. Children ran through the streets here, chasing one another and giggling wildly.

Where Grisham and I stayed, there were no children. Only the lost lived where we did-former Facets, widows, and the afflicted. But here, there were families, there were children. There was a future. Somehow there were still those who believed in a future bright enough to raise a child in.

How beautiful. And how very, very stupid.

When we reached the hospital, Grisham and I dismounted and followed The Chancellor once more. Only this time, his Facets followed behind him. Each of them eyeing Graham and I with a sense of unease and suspicion. The hospital was a two story building that was once some sort of factory, from what I could tell. It was equipped with machines that had been kept up by engineers from Cambria. The engineers a commodity The Chancellor undoubtedly bartered a few Facets for.

We walked by the intake desk, The Chancellor giving a curt nod before they let us through. Only a few Divernians possessed the authority he did. Doors that would've been shut in my face opened easily for him. Being the Chancellor of Divern did have its perks. No door off limits, an army of Facets at your command.

“I wish they'd stop following us.” I said, referencing the Facets behind us as we continued down the long hallway, “It's putting me on edge.”

I scratched my neck, calculating how long it had been since I inhaled that sweet smoke of my pipe.

“It's their job, Rue.” Grisham replied, “They're told to protect The Chancellor and that's what they do. You remember what it's like.”

“I remember.” I replied.

Grisham stopped abruptly and turned to face the two male Facets following closely behind us, “Would you mind giving us some breathing room here? We're not a threat.”

“You sure about that?” The younger of the two remarked, looking me up and down as I bit off a loose fingernail and spit it to the side of the hall, “This one looks like she woke up on the bad side of an Indigo affliction.”

He scoffed, nudging his partner who grinned widely.

I cocked an eyebrow but didn't say a word.

Reaching out his strong, slender fingers, Grisham grabbed the young Facet by his collar and pulled him towards his face. The camouflage jacket the young man wore stretched beneath the resistance of Grisham’s pull.

“Do you know who we are? Who she is?” He nodded towards me without taking his eyes off the young man, “She saved us from the last incursion. If not for her, Divern would've been overrun by The Watchers. Show some fucking respect.”

“She's not- one of us-” The young Facet struggled, “She wears the greens- of another soldier.”

“There's only been one female Facet.” The slightly older man interrupted his comrade, “You're not telling me this is her? She's not…”

“The Silver Blade,” my brother finished the man's sentence. The muscles of Grisham's neck flared as he set his jaw. His arms were hidden beneath his tattered leather jacket. He dared not wear his Facet greens anymore. It was too painful for him.

Quite the contrary to my daily garb. I wore the same greens every single day. I couldn't seem to let them go. No matter how sick I felt at the sight of my jacket, my boots- I saw myself no other way. I was a living photograph of who I'd been when the wall fell.

“She's fucking crazy, man. Look at her.” The young Facet’s brown eyes ran me over once again. The look on his face became increasingly disgusted, even as Grisham's grip tightened, “She's got those glassy eyes. She's pale. Her cheeks are sunken in. And she's still wearing greens. If she really is The Silver Blade, she's a deserter and doesn't deserve to wear the greens!”

“She's earned the right to wear the greens as long as she wants to,” spit from Grisham's mouth flew towards the Facet's face, “have you ever seen them? The Watchers? Do you know the empty, soulless eyes they have? Their pallid skin touching yours, the feeling of death creeping over you. And when they get close enough, the feeling of cold emptiness you feel when they suck your life away. Leaving you to suffocate and die just for the fun of it.”

The Facet quivered at Grisham's words. The tension on his greens grew until his jacket was too taut for him to move any farther, “Look man, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“You haven't even seen the outside of these walls have you?” Grisham’s voice purred through his clenched jaw. Hand on my forehead, I sighed as the exchange continued. Grisham's defensiveness wasn't a surprise. He'd always been my champion. My only fan. Even when I didn't deserve it.

“Well no, not yet. I… We….” he looked over at his partner who glanced off towards the wall. Refusing to speak on his behalf. I laughed as I chewed on my sleeve.

I walked to the Facet hanging from my brother's grasp and patted him on the shoulder before whispering into his ear, “Come find me if you survive outside these walls. I'll save some Indigo for you. We can share a smoke.”

“Unhand him, you brute!” The Chancellor shouted before forcing himself between my brother and the Facet.

The Facet stumbled backward and straightened his greens in an attempt to appear unbothered by the encounter. I flung my heavy auburn braid back over my shoulder and we continued down the hallway.

“You don't have to do that, you know?” I spoke quietly.

“You're my sister, Runel. It's my responsibility.” He replied.

“I'm a big girl, Grish. I can handle a little shit talking.”

“I know you can. But I don't think you should have to,” he nudged me with his shoulder. “You're strong, I know that better than anyone. I just don't want you to have to be all the time.”

I smiled at him and nudged back. If he hadn't been there with me after the incursion, I'd be dead. Not from any doing of The Watchers, at least not directly, but by my own hand. Long after the fighting stopped, I still heard their noises in my head. They'd burrowed into my mind once it touched me and I couldn't get them out. When it touched me, the strongest Watcher I’d ever faced, I saw the pictures in my mind. Death, over and over, our people being slowly killed by them. I couldn't stop all of the pictures, even after it released me. An endless playlist of death in my head.

Indigo affliction was already a part of me by then. If I wasn’t smoking it, I was running from the terrors I couldn’t explain to anyone. Not even my brother. I would've done anything to make it stop.

And I did.

Grisham found me that night. Covered in my own blood. The panic on his face, the fault all mine. I promised I'd never do it again, no matter how tempting it was.

But the Indigo…

It was the only thing to keep the voices away. The images that played in my mind. The soulless stares of The Watchers. The shrieks they made each time they claimed another life. It was constantly dwelling at the back of my mind, just waiting to be freed. But as long as I had the Indigo, I could manage it.

And I wasn't alone.

My clients were mostly former Facets. They needed it just as much as I did. The only thing keeping them tethered to their lives was Indigo. Even as some went mad and withered away, at least they lived when they so easily could’ve died.

I walked to The Chancellor who stood outside one of the treatment rooms. He read the treatment sheet just outside the door, mumbling to himself.

“What's his name?” I asked softly.

“Vellum.” The Chancellor replied quietly.

He slowly turned the handle and we followed him in. The Chancellor’s Facets stationed themselves outside the door.

The room smelled of stale, old crackers and mothballs. It was somewhat revolting when mixed alongside the smell of bloodied bandages and homemade anesthetic.

Vellum sat at the edge of his thin white mattress and looked out the window. From the window, the edge of the wall was visible just above the rims of the buildings that filled every crevasse of central Divern. A visual reminder that we'd been packed together like sardines in a can after the collapse of everything.

The wall was the only thing separating us from them. Like the other colonies, the people of Divern learned quickly that they shouldn't touch Indigo shards of the wall. Even the afflicted wouldn’t dare steal those shards. The colonies farmed it to build the walls making it property of the government and the people. Without it, The Watchers would have killed us all off long ago.

Some believe the Indigo appeared to warn us of their arrival. And that's why they can't touch it. Others think it's nothing more than a far-fetched coincidence, citing Murphy's Law. I think it's neither option. I think it's something far worse.

But I smoke it to keep the worries away. To remind myself that it's someone else's problem. Certainly not mine. Not anymore.

“Vellum?” The Chancellor whispered, placing his hand on the frail man's shoulder. “We're here to talk to you.”

Vellum turned to look at the chancellor and then at Grisham and I. His dark hair was disheveled and hung over his forehead. His blue eyes were shadowed with the burdens of what he'd seen. A look I knew from glimpses I'd caught of myself in the mirror. His face was lean, as if he hadn't eaten since the attack at the Gate. His hospital gown revealed little of his stature or size, leaving it a mystery to me.

“Talk… to me.” He spoke slowly.

“Yes we need some very important information, Vellum.” The Chancellor began, “This is Grisham and that's Runel. They were some of the best Facets we've ever had. They're retired, but they agreed to help us now. What happened at the Gate, we need to find out what we can do to prevent it. We need to know everything you saw. What you saw before the attack, when the Watchers followed you back to the Gate, anything that might help them. You're a Wayfarer. You know this area better than any of us and we need you to show us where you found those Indigo shards. If you do, then these two agreed to retrieve the antidote from Cambria for us. I know you're-”

“Sshhhh.” I hissed. As the chancellor spoke, Vellum’s expression became more drawn. I'd watched the eyes of my comrades turn glassy too many times to ignore what had happened to him.

I nodded at Grisham who approached Vellum slowly, carefully. His large form turning impossibly smaller when he sat before him.

“Vellum,” Grisham spoke softly and the frail man turned to face him, “I'm going to help you clear your mind to remember things that might be helpful to us, but I need your permission to do that.”

“You can… but how?” Vellum asked through strained breath.

“Think of it as cleaning the debris from your mind. Decluttering it so you can focus on what's useful.”

Vellum nodded, “We can… try….”

“Okay, take a deep breath and close your eyes,” Grisham spoke in a hushed, comforting tone.

Grisham sat before Vellum who was still perched at the edge of the hospital bed. Vellum's eyes reluctantly closed, even as his weary gaze swept the room in a final protest. Grisham had a gift for honing in on thoughts we needed to find. Interrogation some called it. But it was nowhere near as brutal as tactics often employed by Facets. Grisham merely unburdened them of painful memories held deeply. Decluttered their minds.

“Think about what you smell here in the room.

What you hear.

Now focus only on the sound of my voice.

Listen to my voice as you search for what we need.

Listen to my voice as you find the Indigo.

Picture it.

Look around.

Tell me what you see.”

Vellum's breathing slowed, his eyelids relaxed. His shoulders dropped away from his ears. He shivered. His voice suddenly more clear. “It's night. It's cold here. We got turned around… lost the trail to Cambria. The sounds of The Watchers are around us. G-getting closer.” His teeth began to chatter.

“We were trying… to get back to Divern. The path was dangerous…. We needed backup…. We could hear them…” Vellum's breath shuddered.

I saw the fear on his face. He pushed it aside in an effort to remember where he was and what he saw, but it was buried under the scaly, translucent skin of the Watchers who found them on that trail. I knew that fear because I'd felt it too. I'd been the best Divern could offer to stop them during the incursion. And I did just that, I killed and maimed dozens of Watchers when they tried to enter the colony. But what I'd lost during that fight, I'd never get back. It was a feeling that drew my pipe to my lips at the thought of it- despair.

I slowly stepped to Vellum and rested my hand on his shoulder. “You're safe now, they can't reach you here.” I retracted my hand quickly as if I'd been burned. Hoping the brief reassurance would help him find what he'd lost.

He inhaled deeply and turned his cheek towards me. Without opening his eyes, he spoke again, “When we retreated. We saw the blue glow of the Indigo. It wasn't a mountainside. It was a cave.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Indigo had only ever been found on mountain faces. The reason the Angore Colony possessed it in droves, it was a colony alongside the mountain range.

Vellum nodded his head. I looked towards Grisham who nodded as well, no doubt thinking the same thing I was. Our basement wasn't the only underground cache of Indigo.

When Grisham retracted, Vellum opened his eyes, “That's all I can remember.”

“It's alright.” Grisham replied. “The Watchers seem to make us forgetful. Can you take us there?”

“I… believe so,” Vellum’s voice turned frail once again.

“We need weapons,” As soon as I faced The Chancellor, Vellum began to speak again.

“There are… people out there.” Vellum's shaky voice barely noticeable. “We weren't… the only people… in the woods.”

The attention in the room shifted to Vellum. Through the silence, the young Facet spoke, “Another group of Wayfarers. Maybe an expedition from Cambria.”

“No.” Vellum replied, “these people… weren't from the colonies. They spoke… in sounds. Their weapons… were primitive. And the way they moved… when they fought The Watchers. I've only seen it once… before.”

He turned to look into my eyes for the first time. His dark, disheveled hair parted only to reveal his bloodshot blue eyes. The stubble along his jawline matched his dark hair. The slope of his nose drew my eyes to his lips, soft despite his unkempt appearance.

“Only once…” He drew in a deep breath to steady his voice again. As if it took all his focus and energy to do so, “I saw someone moving so quickly you could hardly see her cut them down. Her blade gliding through the air, saving so many of us. Someone so beautiful, I couldn't believe she was real. Someone who never truly got what she deserved,” his eyes widened as he looked at me. It felt as though he were looking at a myth he'd only read about.

“Runel,” I jerked at the sound of The Chancellor’s voice. I'd been so glad to be rid of him when I left the Facets last year, I'd forgotten the way his voice turned my stomach, “We’ll send you with weapons. I'll send you with your weapon.”

My blade. He was going to return it to me.

“Anything else you need for the journey, I'll do what I can to-”

“I'll go,” I interrupted The Chancellor. “I'll do it.”

“And you?” He turned to Grisham, “I need you with her. That's the only way this works.”

Grisham's expression grew fatigued, his eyes shadowed, “Where she goes, I go.”

I bit my lip, still twisting my pipe in the pocket of my greens. I hoped then, that we'd survive out there in the wilds. That we'd come back to Divern with Indigo and answers. But there was more, an unanswered question in Vellum's words. Deep down, I knew we'd get the answers I searched for.

But I could never have prepared myself for the cost.