Deon couldn’t be more relieved when the next item on Skip’s training itinerary was simply team combat drills. He desperately needed a break from all of the deep, dark, and vulnerable lessons, as valuable as they had proven to be.

“Keep focused, Deon!” Skip urged, leaning against the boulders where his cabin was built. “Skrili, you’ll have to trust that it’ll appear!”

High above, surpassing even the height of the tallest trees, Skrili balanced atop a single floating wooden plank. She leaned forward, preparing to jump.

Deon’s eyes widened as he grimaced from effort. His timing and aim had to be perfect, or Skrili would freefall.

Once Skrili took a brave, steady leap into the open air, Deon tried to follow her eyes and position to determine where she was hoping to land. In a split second, he imagined another floating plank. Skrili’s toes barely reached it, but she stepped forward and caught herself atop the platform.

Deon let out a massive sigh. “Nice one!” he shouted up to her.

Still balancing out, Skrili sent a single nod his way.

“Boooooooo…”

They both turned to glare at Skip in confusion.

“What’s wrong this time?! Skrili didn’t fall!” Deon protested.

“No good. Do it again,” said Skip flatly.

“But why?!”

“Why do you think?”

Deon and Skrili took a second to ponder. Then Skrili checked behind her.

“The other plank,” she noted.

Skip pointed to her in affirmation. “There it is. Nice thinking, Skrili.”

Deon tensed. Now he was the only one who didn’t understand. “What’s so wrong about that?”

“You left the other unneeded plank in existence. In a tournament fight, a mistake like that can be critical,” Skip explained. “As an Imaginer, leaving behind anything you make creates an opening for your opponent, which they can use against your teammate. Another Imaginer could intercept it as a weapon. A Manipulator could turn it into something else. If you leave a trail behind, any skilled fighter could follow it and attack Skrili.”

Deon grit his teeth.

“My instructions were specific for a reason: when Skrili jumps, create a new stepping point for her, but remove the previous one at the same time,” ordered Skip. “Do it again.”

These drills ate up the rest of the afternoon. They saw improvements little by little. By the final few hours, Skrili was practically jogging through the air, stepping on the planks Deon imagined while the ones she left vanished close behind her. Deon had to imagine pillows on the ground to catch her countless times, but as the hours passed, the falls and drops decreased.

Skip seemed rather pleased with their steady progress, already beginning to list off recipe ideas while the woods grew tired and shadowy around them.

This was precisely the training Deon was hungry for, but he found himself less invested than normal. Instead, for hours, all he could truly focus on was his talk with Skrili this morning.

That shared vision weighed down on them constantly, looming in the shadows of their thoughts.

Was it their greatest fear, or was it the future?

Skrili’s promise that she’d tell him about her brother’s death tonight was her last mention of the situation. In general, she’d fallen particularly silent since then—even for her.

He wondered if she’d still follow through with it.

After winding down from training, and partaking in Skip’s latest concoction—a surprisingly rich, relaxing salad bar—Deon and Skrili departed from the cabin and entered the chilled night air.

Their shoes brushing against the grass and dirt were the only sounds, all the way back to their tree.

They paused in silence for a moment when they reached its winding trunk.

“Well…great work today,” Deon uttered.

“…You too.”

Then, with a graceful series of hops, Skrili ascended high into the tree, towards her branch. Deon watched her leave wordlessly.

I guess she changed her mind, he figured.

Deon climbed up, his stuffed post-dinner stomach weighing him down a bit. While Skrili’s branch was near the very top, his was only partway. It was thick and curved off from the rest of the tree’s peculiar shape, forming a perfect natural hammock.

He lay down, but grunted as his back banged against the rough bark.

For the first time since they’d arrived, the tree’s wood didn’t transform into a soft and pillowy substance tonight. Instead, it stayed firm and far from comfortable.

Frick’s sake…what’s this tree’s deal? he thought. This is gonna be a long night…

Within minutes, he was already convinced this location wouldn’t do—there was no way he’d get any meaningful sleep. Even the trees in No Man’s Land were more cozy. He sat up to pick a spot on the ground.

A vibration in his pocket interrupted his progress. Deon reached for his TeamTrack.

“Come up to my branch. I’ll tell you everything.”

It was from Skrili. Deon peaked up, barely able to make out the glow from Skrili’s TeamTrack screen high above. It faded out a second later.

The vision of Skrili holding her dead brother, and then Lammy, protruded his thoughts once more.

He could feel his heart beating.

Deon took a long sigh, and then began the climb higher into the branches. They became thinner and more crowded as he ascended, making his path much easier. Soon he reached a hole that lead up to a blanket of interwoven branches, almost at the very top. They formed a circle around the trunk, curving up like a reversed umbrella. A few more branches dangled above this area like a ceiling, open enough to provide a gorgeous view of the starry Fiction Country sky.

Deon whistled as he stepped into Skrili’s domain. She sat against the trunk, staring at her hands.

“You picked a way better spot than me,” Deon noted. “Must be amazing when the bark is soft like usual.”

Skrili didn’t have to confirm, because he found out for himself: as soon as he sat down next to her, the wood abruptly transformed, giving way to its familiar, fluffy texture. Deon and Skrili sunk into it clumsily.

They felt the occasional breeze, but nothing else stirred in Nightwood Valley.

Deon could hear Skrili breathe in shakily, preparing to finally speak.

“You might not see me the same way after tonight,” she practically whispered.

“That’s um…a little dramatic, isn’t it?” commented Deon.

“I’m serious.”

Deon reeled in his attempt to weaken the tension. Skrili was fidgeting with her fingers, staring into something unseen. This wasn’t easy for her.

“Sorry,” said Deon softly. “So then…what happened…to your brother?”

~~~

“Akri, dear, I told you to wait for your sister!”

“Aw, but I’ll starve! She’s taking too long.”

Skrili ducked under the drooping, ripped gray fabric and stepped inside the tent. A fishy, musty odor met her immediately. It was hardly appetizing, but her stomach rumbled anyway: it meant food. Bread and rodent meat were one meal more than she’d managed yesterday.

“It’s fine. Let him eat, Mamma. He has more growing to do,” she said.

Her Mamma’s thin blue hair wrinkled more than usual beside the smoke of their fire. Her purple eyes glared steadfastly.

“Tradition is tradition,” she urged. “We eat together. Are you Shfi, or not?”

“I wish we weren’t! Then we could really eat!” exclaimed Akri, lunging for the first wooden bowl of food.

But with minimal effort, Mamma placed her palm on his forehead and ceased his feeble attempt.

“Have some pride, Akri,” she ordered. “And wait for your sister—she’s the only reason you have this food, after all.”

Skrili sat between her brother and Mamma around the humble flame.

“I’m sorry this was all I could find,” she said. “The only Shfi-friendly shops in the market didn’t have anything to spare.”

Besides, she thought, they all still see me as that girl who ‘seduced’ an Arnlekan. But she didn’t dare bring that up—Mamma had lectured her enough about that.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You’ve done what you can, Skrili,” assured Mamma, handing out the bowls. “Providing for the family isn’t a task meant for a young girl.”

Akri snatched a bowl, his mouth watering. But he paused and looked up at his sister, then handed it to her first.

“But Skrili’s the best!” he exclaimed while stuffing his mouth full of bread and roasted rat meat. “She always finds us food! Where did you get this?”

“Not always,” Skrili denied. “And…that’s my little secret.”

She stared down at her bowl, but she could feel Mamma’s eyes pressing onto her both somberly and worriedly. Dodging a five-year-old’s curiosity was easy enough, but she knew there was no fooling her grandmother.

Skrili ate slowly, trying not to grimace as she brought the flesh to her mouth. While it was cooked now, she could still see the living being she trapped and killed hours ago. She longed for a day where she wouldn’t have to steal a life for food.

Her eyes drifted to Akri and Mamma, who had already almost emptied their bowls. This repugnant meal wouldn’t be nearly enough to fill them, but she knew they’d never complain. They would starve before they would ever admit she was letting them down.

Skrili sucked in air to try and keep tears from building. They needed so much more.

And there was no use in convincing herself she’d accomplished anything for them.

Mamma took Akri’s dirt-smudged rags in her hand lightly, brushing as much dust off as she could.

“You have a rip here. I’ll patch it up tonight if I have any fabric left.”

Skrili knew there was no fabric. Mamma would tear off a piece of the tent when no one was looking.

Suddenly, Akri perked up. “When Mommy and Daddy come back, Mommy can do that, Mamma! Then you can get more sleep!” his head spun to Skrili, his purple eyes big and glowing. “And Daddy will get us food! Then you won’t have to, Skrili!”

Skrili winced and rose to her feet. Dust settled around the tent as she rushed out.

~

It was too dark for Skrili to see anything but the vapor exiting her mouth. She shivered, hugging her knees as she sat just outside the tent.

She wished she could remember her parents’ faces, so it would feel more real when she pictured herself telling them off. To leave her and Akri to Mamma once they could no longer provide for everyone—it was to leave them all to die.

Mamma was too old and weak. All the responsibility they left, Skrili had to pick up.

But it was too much. She needed to be stronger.

Two tiny arms wrapped around Skrili’s shoulders. Akri jumped on her from behind, almost toppling her over.

Skrili felt her sorrow retreat as she broke out laughing, failing to fend off Akri’s grasp.

“You’re getting too big for that, you goofball!” she said.

But his hug persisted. “Mamma said you’d be cold out here,” he explained. “Thanks for the food, sis!”

“It was trash.”

“It was from you, so no it wasn’t!”

He hugged tighter, so Skrili reached up and grasped his hands. She heard his stomach rumble, just as it had yesterday when she returned home empty-handed.

“Tomorrow I’ll find something even better,” Skrili promised. “I’ll bring something home every day, no matter what, for the rest of our lives.”

“You mean, until Mommy and Daddy come back?”

Skrili knew that meant the same thing.

“Y—yeah,” she said.

When Akri released his hold, he paused and stared at his arm. “Skrili…what’s all over me?”

He kneeled beside her, revealing red smudges on his skin. Before Skrili could try and mask it, he reached for her rags and found the source.

“Skrili, this is blood! What happened?!”

She recoiled the instant his hand grazed the gash oozing into her clothes, but bit her tongue to avoid letting out a cry.

“It’s…this is nothing,” she insisted. “I…just tripped while I was looking for food.”

Akri tried to clean up her bloodied rags with his own, but it was no use. She’d been bleeding slowly for hours. Thankfully, by now, it was beginning to scab up—but that only increased her discomfort whenever she moved.

She was surprised Mamma hadn’t noticed. Her vision must have gotten even worse.

“Take me with you next time you look for food!” Akri insisted. “I’ll follow you and make sure you don’t trip or hurt yourself.”

“What? No, Akri.”

“Why not?”

The deep, crackling bang from the landowner’s blaster gun rang in her mind.

“Because…I’m a big girl. So I’m supposed to do it. You’re a little boy,” she said.

Akri kneeled closer. “No! I’m almost six! Come on, we’ll be a team!”

Skrili wrapped her arm around him. “You stay here and grow big and strong. Do that for me, and I’ll make sure you always have something to eat.”

Akri’s attempts to convince her continued on for a few minutes, until they heard Mamma call them back inside. It was the dead of night: not a safe time to be out and rambunctious. An encounter with a Shfi or Arnlekan gang—or both—was the last thing this family needed tonight.

As always, they all huddled close in the center of the tent to ward off the unrelenting cold.

But still, Skrili could hardly sleep.

~

Thankfully, the morning found her with a light fog and a drizzle. This already increased Skrili’s chances for today’s search. She snuck out when it was still dark, making sure Akri and Mamma didn’t stir, and neared her destination just as the first daylight was beginning its steady arrival.

Everything was falling into place: less people would be outside, and Akri and Mamma didn’t see where she was going.

They couldn’t find out what she’d been doing all this time—what she had to do.

Her feet moved soundlessly and swiftly against the dirt. She ran low. Soon she reached the tall metal fence, and leaned up behind the same pole as yesterday. Peering into the farm, she found exactly what she’d hoped for: nothing but the dewy dark green grass, several cows at the far end of the field leagues away, and silence.

…And a guard. And the dog.

Her path wasn’t exactly clear. The guard made his rounds slowly around the outskirts, wielding an electric rod. He was closer to the cows, facing away. The dog lay asleep in front of the newly-refurbished red barn.

Skrili was grateful she waited before rushing in; while the fog masked her presence, it also made it harder to detect her obstacles.

But there was only one guard this morning. And the landowner was nowhere to be seen. She was right: they were laxer on rainy days.

She had a chance.

Skrili breathed in once slowly, then out. She leaped up onto the fence, darting up its wire as soundlessly as possible. That was always the easy part—getting over the top was the main challenge.

To skirt the barbed wire, Skrili pushed off the fenced and swung up in a flip. A spiking pain seared through her arm briefly, but this slight impact didn’t impede her motion. She reached and gripped onto the other side of the fence. It rattled lightly for an instant.

Skrili surveyed the farmland once more, frozen in place against the fencing. Nothing stirred.

She hopped down, her constantly sore feet welcoming the soothing grass’s embrace. The cut on her arm bled slowly, but it wasn’t deep. She was clear to proceed.

It was always easier to run soundlessly within the farm, thanks to the grass. But her proximity to both the risk and reward heightened her nerves nonetheless. Unfortunately, the barn wouldn’t do this time with the dog sleeping just by the entrance. Instead she worked her way closer to a shed behind the barn, her eyes hardly leaving the preoccupied faraway guard.

Soon she found herself up against the shed’s wooden wall. The dog hadn’t detected her, which allowed a window of opportunity to slip inside. She cracked open the door steadily—any faster or slower, as she’d learned, and it would creak. Pleading mentally to nobody in particular, she peered inside.

As far as she was concerned, her luck couldn’t have been any better.

A hefty, cracked barrel was toppled over on its side, with oats poured all over the floor. One of the landowner’s sons must have been transporting barrels to the grain bins and hid one to finish work earlier.

Whatever the reason, it meant Skrili had found something worth bringing home. She didn’t have to try and cradle eggs only to feel them crack along the way this time, or settle for hunting in the barn for curious rats like yesterday.

She pulled out her cloth bag and slid into the shed. The intent to steal hadn’t held her back in a long time.

According to Shfi legend, Arnlekans like these farmers stole their sacred land and destroyed their way of life. So to many Shfis like her, they were only stealing what should be theirs.

But this justification was hardly on Skrili’s mind as she filled her bag with Arnlekan oats. She didn’t care. Without this food, her family would starve. It was simple as that.

She reemerged, but froze in place.

Two eyes stared right back at her.

And a fluffy tail wagged in delight.

The barn dog lunged forward in a familiar onslaught of licks and sniffs.

“Hey…” she whispered, patting his head gently. “Sorry—now’s not a good time. Stay.”

With a disappointed whimper, the dog obeyed.

Skrili pressed onward, her bag full. She darted towards the barn wall first. After this, it would take making a break for the fence and climbing it once more. She was almost in the clear.

She stepped forward—then stopped, her heart skipping.

The guard had made his way back around. His back was to her, but if she’d been a second faster, it would all be over.

Skrili waited for him to fully pass by the barn. She pounced forward behind him, stabbing her palm into his back, and then chopping his neck. He grunted and collapsed limply.

That was it. All her obstacles were behind her, and nothing but a swift escape ahead.

She ran for the fence.

Had it not been for the flickering yellow light against the fog, or the distant sizzling, Skrili would have died right then. She dove to the side just before a crackling explosion blasted a gaping hole into the perfect field.

“SCUM! GET OFF MY LAND!!” a man boomed.

The landowner. She spotted his shadowy, booming figure nearing from another corner of the field. His bulky metallic weapon rested against the silhouette of his equally rugged shoulder.

Skrili grit her teeth and hurried back to her feet. She assumed the fog gave him the same limited vision as her, veiling her identity—but it meant he could still follow her movements. She needed to get out now.

“BOYS!! WE GOT ONE! GET YOUR BUTTS OUT HERE!”

Another sizzle and crackle.

Skrili ducked, but it was useless.

Electricity coursed through her body and burned her leg, jolting her right off her feet. She was airborne for a second and toppled into the grass with a cry.

“That’s a high voice for a thief,” the landowner observed. “So they’ve been sending little boys to steal from me? Pathetic. But I’m not surprised.”

Skrili’s vision blurred. She bit her hand to keep from passing out. But once her senses improved, she lifted her hand to her face.

Her bag was gone.

It lay not far ahead, in the direction of the landowner. The oats were spilled everywhere.

Skrili felt her soul deflate.

She had to run. Her family’s source of life was only steps away, but she had to run. To try and salvage the food now would cost her life.

Despite her promise to Akri, he and Mamma would go hungry again tonight.

Tears welling from both the physical and mental pain, Skrili made one more break for the fence. Her Power Rebound energy flickered to life and forced her forward.

A blast zoomed past her head and exploded against the ground.

“DIE, SHFI SWINE!!”

Another whizzed overhead. This one slammed into the metal fence with a deafening POP, leaving a hole behind towards the bottom.

In a split decision, Skrili didn’t jump through it. That would have been an obvious move. Channeling the strength from her Power Rebound, she launched into the air, this time clearing the barbed wire by a longshot.

She saw one more blast plow into the fence, widening the hole into a gate-like shape. Skrili landed unevenly but sped off, her bare feet scraping the rocks and coarse dirt beyond the farm.

“COME BACK AGAIN, AND I’LL INTRODUCE YOU TO MY SONS!!” roared the landowner. “IT’LL BE YOUR LAST MISTAKE!! YOU HEAR ME, SHFI SWINE?! YOU’RE DEAD!!”

Once the farm fence was out of sight behind her, shrouded in the fog, Skrili finally let herself fall. She dropped into the dirt with wheezing gasps. Her senses almost faded, but the sound of her pumping heart in her head jolted her awake again.

Her Power Rebound was the only reason she could stand and keep walking after she caught her breath. Her mind wanted nothing more than to hide—it had to be better than returning broken and empty handed.

But a trail of white flowers sprouted before her through the lifeless dirt.

They were omniflowers: here to lead her to where her heart needed to go. Following their path with her eyes, she knew they’d lead right back to the tent.

Skrili was too jaded to resist. Her feet dragged slowly through the depravity-tainted dirt, all the way home.

~

“Skrili!” called Akri’s voice.

Her eyes stared past him emptily. She couldn’t bear to see his face now.

“Skrili—oh! You tripped again?”

She tried to nod, but couldn’t tell if she succeeded. Everything was numb. Somehow, Akri hadn’t mentioned her obvious lack of food yet.

Instead, he hurried into the tent just before Skrili.

“Mamma! Mamma, Skrili’s all scratched up! Help her!”

Skrili entered the tent.

“Skrili! Oh—my dear, you’re shaking!”

She heard gasps from both of them as she let herself fall hard against the ground. Her blue bangs drooped over her eyes.

It wasn’t the injuries, or the comedown from her Power Rebound, that kept her down and still.

It was the failure.

Failure for the thousandth time.

When Mamma’s hand met her quivering shoulder tenderly, she couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer.

“My sweet girl. You ask too much of yourself.”

“Mamma, tomorrow I’ll get us food!” declared Akri. “I’ll do it for her!”

“No, Akri.”

“But Mamma! I can do it! Now I know where—”

“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS TENT TOMORROW.”

Akri paused. It had been years since Mamma’s voice had strengthened to that intensity.

“Sis, please?” he begged softly. “Please don’t cry. I’ll find you the best food ever.”

She couldn’t muster a response anymore. She couldn’t stop the tears and act tough.

“Sis, please stop crying…”

Nothing.

“I’ll make you smile. Count on me.”

The weight of hopelessness was too much. Too much to speak, and too much to look into her brother’s determined eyes.

But if only she could, she would have been able to detect the sheer intent in his words, and realize what he was about to do.