The sound of the stone ceiling splintering above her was loud. The sound of her heart breaking within her, was completely silent.
It started with a simple crack, no wider than a fingernail. That was it. All it took for something, so mighty, so powerful, to just… fall apart.
Because cracks spread and become breaks and then fissures and then massive, massive chasms until nothing is keeping them together besides the weakest of facades, begging, praying… no imploring, you to believe that everything is okay and nothing that battle-tested, that durable… nothing that unique could ever ever break. And then it does. And the whole world comes crashing down around you.
“Wake up.”
She lay there, insensate, huddled in a tiny little ball, as he took one step, then another through the falling rocks towards the throbbing, black stone. Her eyes did not see, her ears did not hear, her hands did not feel, her heart did not love. For it was all broken. All gone. She had devoted the entire rest of her life, her whole purpose, for being there for him at that moment, and when the moment came, he did not want her, did not need her, and there was nothing she could do.
“Wake up.”
Time lost all sense and meaning as she lay there. Rocks continued to fall from above, but shattered into dust before reaching her skin. She would have welcomed the crushing pain, the coming of the end, but she was denied even that. It had never been for humanity, never been for herself. It had all been…
“Wake up!”
Her eyes opened, just a crack. She expected to see only darkness, but there was a distant foggy light. It called to her, tried to rouse her again and again, but she did not want to wake. In here, it was warm, safe. In here, there was nothing to hurt her. Out there, there was nothing but pain. Nothing but trying and trying and trying and… losing.
“WAKE THE FUCK UP IT ISN’T OVER!”
Her eyes shot open and suddenly she wasn’t there anymore, she was somewhere else. A long, dark room, lit only by a massive bonfire roaring in the center of it. She was cold, so cold. She shivered and breath steamed from her mouth as she hugged herself and leaned away from the fire, not toward it.
Because the fire was wrong. It seemed to draw in heat, not release it. Suck away light from everything else, rather than creating any itself. And something was in the fire. The man.. No, not a man. The thing. The thing so burnt and scarred that it was repulsively inhuman as only something that is so close to being human, but is not, can be.
It slowly stepped from the fire, one withered foot, and then the other, sprinkling white ash across the cold stone as it grew larger and larger and larger. It grew in her vision until it was all she could see and see tried to run, but found herself transfixed by the two orbs of black fire burning in its eyes. She opened her mouth to scream and no words came out as the thing came closer and closer and closer.
“Evie.” Its words were soft, raspy. Words like rustling paper drifting on the wind. “Evie.”
She willed her legs to move, jump, skip, hop, to budge a single inch! But they stayed rooted in place, paralyzed by fear, and wonder, and horror.
“Evie.”
Small embers of flame escaped from crumbling lips as it spoke and caught in the air, gently floating past her frozen face. Its hand reached towards her and got closer, and she knew it could not, could not, could not touch her, but there was nothing she could do as the fingers crept closer and closer, reaching…
***
“[??? ???] level 25! Skill gained - Victoria: [Imperial Edict]”
Evie jerked awake, her heart pounding as the lingering remnants of the voice calling her name echoed in her ears. Thin, golden rays of sunlight filtered through the tent seams, doing little to warm the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She lay tangled in her sleeping bag, the echoes of unuttered screams still ringing in her head and making her throat feel raw despite not saying a word. With a shuddering breath, she pushed the heavy fabric aside, her movements stiff as she tried to shake off the remaining vestiges of terror. She was still wearing the same shirt, coat, and trousers she’d been wearing when she went to sleep earlier that morning, but her face felt clean as if someone had washed it.
She sat up, rubbing the stiffness from her neck, and bumped straight into the tent’s canvas roof. It was a different tent than the one she’d slept in the night before, smaller, barely large enough to fit her and her bag, and there was no sign of her tentmates.
“Why am I alone? What happened to the others?”
Swallowing down her apprehension, she struggled into a new sweater and pair of pants, unzipped her tent, and scrambled outside. The camp was already busy with the sounds of people packing up and the smell of breakfast in the air. The area around them was far less forested than she remembered – trees replaced with the crumbling shells of suburban homes. People smiled and waved at her as she walked past, and she waved back hesitantly.
Slowly, she made her way over to the supply wagon and got into line behind a group of people waiting for food. The mood around her was amicable, almost jovial, as people laughed at jokes and shared stories between sips of coffee and bites of hard bread. The camp felt like it was beckoning to her, trying to say that everything was okay, but she couldn’t help shying away from the smiles and laughter that felt like tiny needles piercing her ears and eyeballs.
She closed her eyes, hugging herself tightly, but her mind reeled with images from the night before – flashes of violence and cries of pain that had been carried by her nightmares through her sleep into the light of day. She opened her eyes, gaze flitting across the faces around her, searching for any hint of distress or sorrow that might match the tumult in her own heart.
"Hey, you're Evie. We haven’t met yet."
A young man in line turned to her with a friendly nod, breaking her reverie. His face bore a long slash of red slicing a divot across the bridge of his nose, but he still smiled up at her brightly.
"Yes, I am." Evie gazed at the man warily, forcing a small smile while continuing to clench her upper arms over her sweater. "Do you need something?"
"Just saying hello." He laughed and turned back to receive his share of food. "You were pretty brave out there, glad you’re okay."
Evie's smile faltered as the man turned. She reached the head of the line and accepted a portion of oatmeal from the supply wagon – a meager, lukewarm blob that hardly seemed appetizing. She thanked the server and moved aside, nearly bumping into several other people as she stumbled aimlessly through the campsite.
“Is the camp a little emptier than it was last night? There’s 10 waiting in line for food, another 8 sitting around the wagon. 3 serving food, 5 packing up over there. That’s 26, how many were there before? 30? 40?”
She stopped, fingers numb on the cold wooden bowl, head swinging frantically from side to side trying to spot any gaps missing from the company.
“Are my tentmates dead? Is that why they put me in that small tent by myself?”
“Oy there!” A familiar voice boomed through the camp. “Is that…”
Darius’ voice trailed off as Evie looked up and he saw the haunted look in her eyes. She immediately looked back down at her feet
“Morning.” Her voice was more a croak than a proper greeting and she suddenly found herself struggling to break the magnetic connection between her eyes and her feet. She forced her head up, as if she was lifting a heavy barrel and saw Darius was wearing a new set of clothes and several cuts on his arms were covered with crisp, white bandages. “How… is everyone?”
“The crew? We’re mostly fine.”
“How many?”
“Evie… You-”
“Darius, how many?”
“Just wait-”
“How many?” The sound was half scream, half wail, and it cut through the camp like an arrow puncturing cloth. It felt as though every eye in the camp was turned on her, but her mind only had room for one thought.
“Seven.”
“Seven.” The number reverberated through her skull and swept the breath from her lungs. “Seven people.” She had gotten those people killed. They could be alive right now if not for her.
“Eva Victoria.”
Darius put a huge, rough hand on her shoulder, but she trembled, shying away from his touch.
“If I have that look right, and I know I do, you’re beating yourself up for everything you did wrong and could have done differently. I’ve been there, we all have.”
“But seven people are dead because of me, Darius.”
Tears stung her eyes and her voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Seven. I should have been there with you fighting the whole battle, and instead you and Reyna had to protect me because I was so stupid and didn’t know what I was doing. I… You were so right. I’m young, and stupid, and so naive and I begged you to let me come and now people are dead. I-”
“Shh…”
He hugged her to him and she felt her face buried in his chest. There was no energy in her, neither mental nor physical, and she felt her whole body sag as his arms enveloped her. For a long minute, she cried, her retching sobs only partially muffled. When she finally pulled back from him, her eyes were still blurry with tears and snot ran down her nose. She hastily wiped her face and saw several people from around the camp looking at her with expressions she couldn’t read. There was no judgment in their eyes. No pity. It was something else.
“Come with me, there’s something I want to show you.”
Without waiting for a response, Darius started walking off the road, away from the camp. Not knowing what else to do, Evie shuffled after him.
It wasn’t a long walk, and Darius didn’t attack it with his usual urgency. He walked slowly along a well-worn path, always a few steps ahead of her, knowing that she was following behind him without having to look back. Evie felt herself carried along after him like in a dream. Each small step felt at once both effortless and excruciating as her mind worked in overdrive to process her emotions only to end up with the same crushing sense of failure.
She looked up to see Darius paused on top of a small hill. A sense of foreboding filled her and her feet stopped, imploring her to turn around and run back to camp. Whatever was on the other side of that hill was an obstacle that she wasn’t sure she was ready to face yet. The path ahead of her both pulled at her and repelled her at once and she felt herself stuck like a piece of metal dangling between two magnets.
Behind her was imagination, every dream she’d ever had about becoming a hero and destroying the Virus with barely a scratch on her sword. In front of her was reality – the true path ahead of her. But even her dreams, now, were nightmares and there was nowhere left to go but forward. So despite herself, she stepped onto the hilltop. And she felt a small piece of herself wither and fall away.
The entire valley, as far as she could see, was covered with row after row of graves. They were not ordered rows of neatly organized tombstones like the cemetery in Richmond. Instead, graves were marked by rough stones, chunks of concrete, pieces of scrap metal – each one unique and placed without any discernible pattern.
Evie’s breath caught in her throat as her feet carried her aimlessly past Darius along a narrow, winding path down the hill. She stared, eyes and mouth frozen in arresting shock at the incomprehensible number of monuments to dead bodies littering the hillside for miles. There was no rhyme or reason to the graves’ placement – some were clustered closely together, while others were more isolated. Some were barely large enough for one full-grown adult, while others were big enough to contain two or three different bodies. Names, where they were known, were crudely etched or painted onto the markers, some barely legible after exposure to the elements.
Grass and wildflowers grew in tufts around the markers, the vegetation untamed and varying in height and density. In some places, the natural growth almost obscured the graves completely, as if the land itself was slowly digesting the bodies. It was beautiful, in a way, but also terrible. So terrible.
Evie swallowed, struggling to breathe. Her gaze lingered on a simple wooden plank with a name crudely carved into it. It was too much, the weight of so many lost lives pressing down on her. Feeling a deep, hollow pain in her chest, she collapsed to her knees, fingers digging into the dewy grass. Tears once again slid down her cheeks and she simply knelt there and let them fall.
“It was called Herndon once.
Darius’ voice was low and solemn, drifting to her ears as if carried by the breeze.
“A nice little suburb outside the capital. The people here were well-off, comfortable. Happy. When the rifts started opening, Lord Kalanick tried to convince everyone to move inwards, towards Washington, where he could protect them more easily, but many people… We didn’t want to flee. The whole world was falling apart and these were our homes. We said we’d band together and fight them off here. Had a few Tier 3s, more than a few people with guns. It worked for a while, but none of us understood what we were really facing. One night we had communities, families, loved ones… and the next it was all gone.”
He paused, allowing the oppressive silence of the gravesite to regain its grip as Evie continued to stare blankly at the grim panorama.
"You're thinking about those seven lives lost last night." He walked over to her and kneeled down beside her, slowly shifting her chin with his large hand so his eyes locked with hers. "You think it's your fault they're gone. But look around, Evie. This… this is years of battles, years of surviving, years where we've all had to make impossible decisions.
“I’ve traveled this road hundreds of times, and every single journey I’ve stopped here. Sometimes just to pay my respects, often to add new bodies. Some of the people here died on my watch, under my protection. Now they’re buried in a place where few people will ever be able to come to show their respects.”
"But… how do you go on?"
Evie's voice was barely audible, a thin wisp of sound in the quiet morning air.
"This weight, the guilt of being the one standing when my comrades are lying in the dirt… it’s part of me. It hurts, so badly. Every time I go to sleep at night it’s with me. Every time I wake in the morning. There’s no running away from it, no leaving it behind. For those of us who have survived for long enough, it’s hard to remember what it’s like to live without it. But it’s what makes us strong.
“I’m not going to tell you that everything’s okay, that mistakes happen, and that you have nothing to regret. But that regret, that pain, desperation, sorrow – it’s something the Virus will never have. Each person we lose makes us more determined to see it never happen again. To get that little bit stronger to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes twice. "
Evie nodded slowly, tears still streaming down her face.
“I’m a mess, Darius. Ever since my mother got sick, I’ve tried to be strong, but it’s always felt as though I’m one disaster away from falling to pieces. And now she’s gone and my friends are gone. How do I…?”
She trailed off, looking up at him as he knelt beside her.
“There was a woman I knew once. The bravest woman I’ve ever known. When all of this started she had everything she wanted: a wonderful husband, a residency at Children’s National Hospital, and a baby girl who she loved with all her heart. When the rifts started opening, she worked non-stop in the emergency room, trying her best to prevent the city from falling apart, while her husband fought to keep the Virus at bay.
Darius was smiling, but there was a glassy look forming in his eyes as if they were remembering the past and not fully in the present.
“I remember the first time I met her. I was 18 then, the same age you are now, but I wasn’t anything like how you kids are today… I’d broken my collarbone when a small rift formed near the apartment I was living in at the time and I was waiting in the hospital, barely holding myself together as I waited for someone to see me. I remember seeing her, scrubs spattered with blood, hair sticking out from under cap, but completely in control of everything – telling confused volunteers where to go, comforting scared patients. When I saw her I felt a little bit braver myself.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“A few weeks after that, her husband died fighting, leaving her and her baby alone. I can’t imagine what she was going through then, but not so long after that, she left the hospital and started the Washington Militia. Even then, I was too scared to join, but several months later, I saw them in action, protecting a group of us after a large rift opened in the center of the city, and I finally mustered the courage to enlist. She was everything I remembered, so confident, so powerful, even with her little daughter toddling around beside her. She made it seem like it was possible to survive the Virus.
“I remember, one day, we were attacked by a large group and my commander sent me running to ask her to send reinforcements so I ran to the apartment building where she was living and climbed the stairs to her door. When I knocked, nobody answered so I opened the door and went in. I found her huddled on the floor, hugging her howling daughter, while crying almost just as hard herself.
I’d never seen a grown person cry that hard and I remember feeling so embarrassed that I tried to back out of the room despite the danger my unit was in. But she saw me, and made me tell her what was happening, wiping back her tears and trying to comfort her daughter the entire time. After I was done, she asked me to wait downstairs and less than five minutes later, she met me, looking just like the woman at the hospital with a full squad of people backing her up. We made it in time to save my unit. Not a single person died that night.
“You see, Evie, being strong, it’s not about never falling apart. It’s about somehow finding a way to get up every time and remembering you still have something to fight for, even if every step hurts. You’re not alone in this, Evie. None of us are. We lean on each other. We fight for each other.”
Evie listened, her tears beginning to subside as she took deep, steadying breaths. The rawness of her emotions began to settle, replaced by a calm that was fragile, but calm nonetheless.
“I want to honor them, Darius. The ones who died last night. All the ones who have died before. My mother… I don't want their deaths to be in vain.”
He simply nodded as he stood and helped her to her feet, a small smile forming on his lips. Evie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, feeling how puffy and tender they were. Darius looked like he was ready to set off, but she pulled him back, grasping his arm.
“What happened to the woman? Is she still alive?”
Darius looked back at her and laughed. Hard.
“Oh, yes. Her name’s Katrina. You’re on your way to meet her.”
***
“Where are we going?” They had been moving for less than ten minutes, but Evie was already panting. “The camp’s that way.”
Instead of returning to the main road, they had turned north from the graveyard and were scampering between – and in some cases over – nascent trees and ruined buildings. It was both encouraging and disturbing to see the trees emerging inside the once lively suburb. The last traces of human infrastructure were disappearing, but the greenery that slowly reclaimed it formed its own type of beauty, even in the last vestiges of winter.
“They don’t need us today. Reyna can handle everything this close to the fort. I did tell you that your fitness needed some work. Consider this a basic practice routine.”
“Basic?”
Evie sucked in a huge mouthful of air as she scrambled up a tree after Darius and then leapt after him to the eave of a nearby house’s roof. The structure immediately crumbled under her weight, despite managing to support the much larger caravaneer just a moment earlier, forcing her to desperately leap from shingle to shingle until she was finally able to leap clear of the collapsing building and somersaulted down to the ground. Darius, paused a few steps in front of her, one eyebrow raised.
“Now that you’ve seen a few battles, do you think you get many chances to take a break in the fighting?”
But Evie wasn’t listening, her mind had latched onto something else he’d said.
“What do you mean this close to the fort? I thought it took at least three or four days to get there?”
“Evie, how long do you think you were knocked out for?”
“Um… Two or three hours?” She looked up at the sun that was just barely shining through the clouds. “Maybe four.”
“Hah.” He started running again and with a groan Evie followed after him. “Try two days and two or three hours.”
She stopped short, staring at him open mouthed. With a sigh, Darius turned back to face her.
“Two days?! I was asleep for two days?!”
“Well, let’s see… You completely burnt out your body trying to use two skills at the same time, somehow managed to resummon your hero a second time, then ran four miles through the woods with a giant juggernaut that no one has ever seen before chasing you. So yes, two days.”
“...I don’t understand. What type of energy is my hero even using? How do I get more of it?”
“Do they not teach you any of this in school?” Darius grumbled, scratching his head. “I thought your last few years were completely focused on this stuff.”.
“About Tier 2 heroes? Why would they? Nobody had awakened one in years. Before me I guess… Plus it’s not like there’s a lot of you all around to go through the specifics with us…”
“Okay… But what about archetypes? It’s the same theory.”
“I know there are 13 archetypes, but some of them are really rare. There’s only ever been one [General], [Vanquisher], and [Paladin]. And hardly any [Berserkers], [Builders], or [Spies]. That’s yours, right?”
“Yes.” Darius looked like he was considering saying more, but decided against it. “13 is mostly right, but there’s also [Pathfinders]. There’s only ever been two, and neither were human, so we’re not sure if it’s a real archetype.”
“[Pathfinders]... Don’t they help people awaken?”
“They do. Until you, I don’t think anybody has awakened without being close to one. What about you by the way? What’s your archetype? You can often guess by the hero and skills, like you did with me, but Victoria is hard to pin down. [Knight]? [Adventurer]?”
“I don’t have one…”
Evie bit her lip. She looked up at Darius, who for only the second time she’d seen – besides when she’d shown him her hero for the first time – looked genuinely surprised.
“What do you mean you don’t have one? Almost everyone gets one by level 20, some before, and I’ve never heard of a Tier 2 without an archetype.”
“I don’t know.” Evie shrugged, trying to mask her apprehension. “When I awakened Victoria, the voice just said ??? ???... That’s what it says every time I level up too.”
“Well that’s certainly strange…”
Darius scratched his head again before shrugging.
“Don’t worry about it too much, everytime anyone thinks they know the rules for this stuff, we see something new. C’mon, let’s keep moving while we talk. We can skip the free running until you’re out of questions.” He winked at her and set-off running. “What else do you know? I’ll fill-in the gaps.”
“Before the Virus there were no archetypes, or levels even… The teachers said you all could train, but there wouldn’t be any real recognition of it doing anything.”
“No wonder so many people used to be overweight…”
?The first heroes were all primogenitors, Tier 2s, but then other people started leveling without awakening heroes first. When some of them got to high enough levels, they started awakening Tier 3s, archetypes without heroes, and getting skills of their own. What’s a Tier 1? The teachers all claimed they didn’t know.”
“Nobody knows… Some believe Lady Edson awakened one before she died, but if she did, the secret died with her.”
“Hm… Anyway… What’s the difference between an archetype’s skills and a hero’s? Do you have both?”
“I do! Archetype skills tend to be pretty standard, especially at lower levels. Some people get rare ones, but most of the time you see some selection of the same 5 or 10 before level 30. Hero skills are unique and almost always tied to the hero’s lore or mythology. They’re not always fully accurate – your Victoria looks like the captain of a ship, even though she was a queen, but she probably encompasses not just her own legend, but England’s while she was queen. Hero skills will also only work while you’re transformed, but archetype skills will work whenever, as long as you have enough energy to use them.”
“So back to energy…”
Evie sighed, feeling her heart rate rise again as they picked up speed.
“Yes, energy. Think of it like physical fitness, but for your mind and soul. Using skills will deplete it, so will summoning your hero, but there’s no exact measure for how much you have. Some things will deplete it much faster, like using two skills at once like you tried the other night.”
“But how could I have known that would happen beforehand?”
“You practice! Try things out when you’re not in the thick of battle…”
“So I’m just supposed to summon Victoria and start using skills?”
“Well please don’t do that in the middle of camp, but yeah, that’s the idea. How many skills do you have?”
“Four, if you count the one that I got this morning.”
“And how many have you used?”
“Two…” Evie blushed, feeling somewhat abashed. “And one of them was that [Cannonade] that didn’t go so well for me…”
“So you didn’t even know what that would do?”
“Um…”
“Deep breaths Darius…” His words were soft, but Evie still heard them and scowled at the back of his head. “Okay, so no time like the present. Let’s see the other ones then.”
“Like now?”
“Yes now! Though preferably nothing with cannons quite yet. I don’t fancy getting myself blown up. And if you knock yourself out again, I am not carrying you to Washington.”
“Victoria.”
Evie felt the familiar thrill of power course through her. Suddenly, she had no trouble keeping up with Darius and her heart rate slowed down considerably.
“Besides the two you used last night, what else do you have?”
“[Reign of the Conqueror], and [Imperial Edict] is the new one.”
“Okay let’s see the first one, that sounds like an aura.”
“[Reign of the Conqueror].”
Evie focused her mind on executing the skill. It felt like a natural part of her like she was snapping her fingers or blowing a bubble with chewing gum. From her perspective, nothing changed, but running beside her, Darius stopped short like he’d hit a wall.
“Wow, that's chilling…”
Darius turned and stared back at her, looking a little bit perturbed.
“What does it feel like? I don’t feel anything different.”
“Can. You. Use it with me, instead of on me.” His words were forced out through gritted teeth and sweat started to bead on his forehead. He also looked like he was struggling to catch his breath.
“What do you mean? Is there like a setting somewhere?”
“A setting? Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m not really sure what to do.”
Evie raised her hands in an exaggerated shrug.
“Then just release it!”
Darius tried to roar, but it came out like a strangled whisper.
“Release it? Hm…” She tapped her lips.
“Evie!”
“Oh fine!”
She laughed and tried to do what he suggested. Instead of focusing the aura on Darius, she tried to craft it around him. It took her a few tries, but she knew she got it right when he suddenly straightened and breathed a sigh of relief. His pupils, which had constricted considerably, were now back to normal size.
“You did that on purpose…”
Darius scowled down at her, mopping his brow.
“Who me? I’m a newbie, remember? I was never going to get it right on my first try…”
“That was… not nice.”
“What did it feel like anyway?”
“It felt like… you were suddenly very large and I was very small. Like I should drop to my knees and bow to you. Pretty vicious, especially considering I’m nearly twice your level.”
“What are auras normally like? Mom had a holy one that worked well against the Virus. This one… I’m not sure if I like what it did to you… Would it do the same thing to Virus?”
“Auras can be pretty different depending on the archetype and even the person. Your mom was a [Healer], right? That one’s pretty common for [Healers] and [Adjudicators]. Yours… I guess it makes sense for Victoria, but it doesn’t seem like it really fits you. Try using it with me as an ally instead of against me.”
“That’s what you were saying before, isn’t that what I just did?”
“It feels like you turned it off. If you didn’t, then you exempted me from it so I don’t feel its effects at all.”
“Interesting…”
She focused on Darius, like she had the first time. She tried to push again, but saw him stiffen and immediately pulled back. When she closed her eyes, she could feel the energy coming from her. She could feel it pulsing on her skin, permeating the air, and humming with a sound so deep it was almost impossible to perceive.
It didn’t stretch that far, only about 10 feet in each direction. When she tried to extend it, it felt like the air around her was pushing back and she didn’t have the strength to go beyond the small bubble around herself. Switching tactics, she felt for the gap in her aura where she’d purposefully stopped it.
“How did I do that…”
She had thought about excluding him from the bubble. That had been harder than pushing it through him, but not that difficult. There was just a small hole in the bubble now. What she needed now was to reverse the flow. Instead of pushing, she tried to pull, but that did nothing.
“No, not pull… Reverse, like inside out.”
Slowly, carefully, she started turning her aura around so that instead of pushing against Darius it was drawing him to her. Little by little she changed it and then… she felt her form shatter into tiny bits of light and she fell to the ground, unconscious.
***
“Not bad for a first attempt.”
She woke to a splitting headache and Darius holding a mug of cocoa to her lips. Her upper lip felt hot and sticky and she tasted the remnants of dried blood on it. She slurped thirstily at the cocoa and immediately felt a little better.
“Please don’t tell me that was another two days…”
She groaned and sat up. Darius had leaned her against the wall of a building close to where she’d fallen.
“No, just a few minutes.”
He was laughing at her again and it made her upset. She grabbed the mug and drank as long as her throat would allow the scalding liquid to pass through it. When she responded, her words were laced with accusation, but he just shrugged it off.
“You knew that would happen.”
“I thought it might. But there’s no better way to find your limits. Not bad for a first attempt.” He looked at her appraisingly. “Most auras have a natural inclination and turning it around is quite difficult. I’m impressed you managed to exclude me without turning it off entirely.”
“So what now?” She cradled her head in her arms in a vain attempt to smother her headache.
“Let’s run a few miles, then we try again when you’re feeling better.”
“What part of running a few miles is supposed to make me feel better?”
“Well your lungs will hurt enough that it will make that pounding in your head feel insignificant.”
“Darius, I will-”
“Gotta catch me first!” He laughed back at her, taking off at a much faster clip than they’d been running earlier. With a groan, she gave chase.
***
By the time they had reunited with the caravan, just after dinnertime, Evie’s head was throbbing so badly that she felt as though she was one knock away from going blind. Her nosebleed had grown so her lips, chin, and even the front of her shirt was covered with blood. Her feet hurt, her muscles hurt, and she knew if she heard Darius laugh one more time she was going to summon her sword and run at him screaming.
She had tried to reverse her aura three more times and each time she had fainted. Her second try had also felt close, but by the last attempt, she knew she had no chance from the instant she resummoned Victoria and it felt as though Darius was torturing her for sport.
“Oy Darius, what have you been putting this poor girl through?” Reyna looked at the two of them with a combination of concern and amusement as she watched Evie limp into camp. “You sure you didn’t run into a few Virus on the way in?”
“I was just giving the girl a glimpse of what some real training looks like. Isn’t that right?”
Evie, from where she had collapsed on the ground on the way to the supply wagon, tried to shoot him a glare, but she imagined she looked far more pathetic than intimidating in her state.
“Come on.” Smiling warmly he offered her a hand up. I have something to show you. Josh! Get this girl a burger and a beer. She’s earned it.”
A few small cheers came from the direction of the supply wagon, and a man, Josh, ran over with a plate and a mug. Seeing her face, he left and returned half a minute late with a wet washcloth.
“Thank. You.”
Her words were muffled by the burger in which she was already nose deep. The blood on her face did nothing to curtail her appetite and she scarfed down the food ravenously before finally taking the time to clean off.
“We have more if you want…” Josh was dubiously looking between the empty plate and Evie’s face. The only remnants of the burger were the crumbs scattered across Evie’s face and shirt.
“No, thank you.” She smiled tiredly, handing him back the plate. “This was so good, though.”
Still holding the mug of beer, she limped after Darius, following him through a clearing in the small wood in which they had stopped. Seeing him at the top of a small hill, she cursed, but stumbled after him all the same. For the second time that day, she crested the hill and felt her breath catch in her throat.
Less than five miles away, stood Fort Washington, its massive walls glinting with the last golden rays cast by the setting sun. The walls, far taller than the ones in Richmond stretched into the darkening sky above the northern bank of the Potomac River. Small lanterns at the top illuminated battlements with hundreds of soldiers on patrol. Weapons of all kinds: crossbows, catapults, even a few ballistae dotted the parapets, each manned by torch-bearing figures wearing leather or steel armor.
A huge, iron gate sat right in the middle of the wall nearest her, and through it, she could see her first glimpse of the fort and old capital of Washington. Buildings and homes rose majestically above the street and people, hundreds of people, milled through the street, returning home from work or getting a few last items from the market before they closed for the night.
“You made it Evie.”
Darius’ words were gentle and he wrapped an arm around her. Eyes still agog, Evie looked up at him and smiled, before leaning her head against his chest.
“I can’t believe it. I’ve dreamed of coming here my whole life, and finally…”
“I think your journey’s only just begun…”
They stood that way for a long time, until the sun had set and only the torches lit on the ramparts could identify the city from the night sky. Then they returned to their tents.
As tired as Evie was, she shifted back and forth in her sleeping bag. What would tomorrow bring? What would happen when she finally entered the city and met the stewards? How much more could her life possibly change? It was late into the night when her brain finally gave up, and she fell into a fitful sleep.