Eien near shit his pants.

He dropped the illicit cigarette, smashing it with his foot, the smoke still wafting around his head.

He felt a brief breeze, blowing cool air on his face, smelling of shit and smoke and gunpowder.

She stood straight, looking at him with her head turned to the right. Eien trembled as he stood at attention, avoiding eye contact.

Her amber eyes glowed in the dimness of light cast by the outside mess hall lamp. The braid at her back was neatly plaited straight back. Her hands were loose at her sides; her throwing cudgel was swinging.

Hours must have passed. Or maybe it was minutes. She just stared at him, and every moment passing made Eien’s heart pound faster in anticipation of pain, of death, of anything.

Then, she turned her head forwards and walked on.

He watched as she walked away, taking slow steps past the mess hall. He heard her footsteps fade into the night. He waited, standing straight and still.

Some of the conscripts were leaving the mess hall, laughing as they went.

He saw shadows dancing across the ground as more of them left, going to the bunkers for the night.

He lifted his shaking hand, patting down his coat to find another cigarette. Pulling it out, he lit it, dropping the first two matches and burning his fingers a bit with the third.

“Goddamn that was fucking scary,” he breathed out quietly to himself.

“You free for it?” someone asked him. Eien looked over to see another conscript, one he knew pretty well.

“Yeah. Just give me a sec.”

--

Aino stirred, rolling over. Eien grabbed her arm, shaking her.

“Hey, Ai…We’re over. We’re over the edge.” She opened her eyes, sitting up quickly. Her head turned slowly, and her eyes rested on the fence.

“We did it. We are out of Beldam territory now. We got past the spot on the map. Right? That was the edge. Right?”

Aino nodded and looked back at him. Eien felt he had the goofiest grin on his face, but he could not stop smiling.

“Ai. I dunno what you did, but I don’t feel it anymore,” he continued, “I don’t feel the contract with them anymore. We’re free.” She felt at her wrist, where the flap of skin was.

“Aw man, I have so many questions, Ai. How did you do that? What did you do back there?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“We aren’t safe yet,” she replied as moved her hands around, feeling for her throwing club and her bag.

The sun was a sliver in the sky, and darkness had already engulfed the fence. Eien felt a breeze blow in from the west. It smelled of smoke and shit and gunpowder.

He looked at her.

“Is that.-“ he started.

“Shh,” she hushed him, “Antmen.” He pursed his lips together and nodded. Peering into the dark, he suddenly noticed movements in the grass behind the fence. She turned her head back to the Antmen, watching them carefully. Dribbles of sweat made his neck turn ice cold. He tried to still his breathing, willing himself to shrink and disappear into the black of night, to blend his noises with the night sounds.

“Move op. Three secs.” He tapped her gently on the shoulder to show he understood and started backing away from behind the rock, carefully watching to make sure he did not step on a branch or twig. She waited until he was far behind her, on the opposite side of trees to join him.

He looked at her pensively, his rifle resting loosely in his hands. She ignored his anxious, questioning look and slung her own rifle over her back. As she rested on her haunches, she examined the open grassland that surrounded them.

“Follow,” she whispered. A sinking feeling entered his gut as she entered the grasslands low. He copied her rifle carry and followed her into the tall, brown blades made black by the night.

He was thankful the moon was not out tonight. As awesome as Aino was at fighting, they both were in no shape for a direct confrontation. At this point, they were both in uncharted territory.

The edge.

The edge was the “edge” of a map. Eien had limited access to maps back in Beldam, so he didn’t know much past the boundaries of city. Aino had a bit more access, but still, the only thing she knew was that there was probably something more beyond the edge of the map.

The only question was what was there?

Could the Antmen follow them?

Was the area still controlled by Beldam?

Eien knew absolutely shit.

He followed Aino.

She suddenly stopped. He tried to peer around her, seeing nothing but darkness and movement. She aimed her rifle forward.

In the dark, if he squinted, he saw two large, round circles, about the size of apples, in front of them. They were only visible because of the slight, dim glow they emitted on their radius. He pointed his rifle at the eye-like things, waiting for Aino to give some kind of signal.

Aino breathed audibly in and out. Then she lowered her rifle. She motioned him to follow, and she led him around the eyes, giving them a wide berth.

She led him on for a bit longer until they came to a place where the ground dipped down into a hill. They slid down as quietly as they could to the bottom of the hill where the grass started to shorten, turning softer and cooler.

They both stood at the bottom of the hill. Aino was looking back where they came. The faint light from the stars reflected in her hair.

“We can rest here,” she said finally. Eien breathed out, as if he was holding his breath the whole time, in multiple short noisy gasps. Aino sat on the ground, staring up at the top of the hill.

Eien collapsed next to her, laying on his back, sprawled out like a flaying victim.

“Can we talk?” he asked, turning his head to look in her direction.

“Yes.”

“Okay. What the hell did you do back there? With the…running thing? The weird…I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I moved the molecules around to create solid matter,” she replied.

“What?”

He waited, but she did not elaborate.

“Okay…what…what about that contract? You asked me to contract with you, but I’ve never heard of anyone contracting with another person. It’s always the government. You know, the big man at the top. And…it seems it nullified the one, you know, in my head? Didn’t you have one?”

“No.”

“What? You never had a contract?”

Again, she did not reply.

“Why didn’t you have one?” he asked.

“I’m not human.”