Anwen shifted her foot along the rocky bottom of the spring, submerging into the water further until only her head and shoulders were still exposed to the air. She rested the back of her head against the pool’s stony lining, taking in a deep breath. She had spent so much time stressing and worrying over her journey that she gave herself no room to relax. After all, there was a slim but not impossible chance that this would be the last time she’d get to put herself at ease.
The pine trees all around her stood tall and strong, as they had for centuries. Luminous specks of light freckled the sky for as far as the eye could see. Somewhere out in the distance, an owl made soothing cooing sounds, the animal having nothing that stopped it from doing so. Pine needles rustled behind her, guided by the gentle wind not far from the natural skyscrapers from which they were born. The water of the brook ahead of her was pristine as it basked under the yellow light of the moon. The pungent smell of pine and the damp smell of earth completely infiltrated her nose. Her senses being refreshed by the bounty of nature, she felt pleasant. She was feeling sensations she hadn’t experienced before. It made her feel warm inside in a way that the water around her body didn’t. It was all a result of her choosing to be alone, to be in the presence of no one else. Being alone wasn’t all that bad, she had to admit. But still, she thought that being with others was even better.
Stefan must’ve grown up somewhere like this. He should be here. He should be enjoying this place as much as I am.
She looked at her hands, which had become pruned from being in the water for so long. As good as she felt inside the pool, she decided that it was time to start going to the campsite. She climbed out of the pool and dried herself as best as she could. She reattached her artificial leg and put on a long shirt and baggy pants from one of the sacks that Vi had given her on behalf of Gareth. She found a tree branch that was low enough for her to reach and hung up her wet clothes to dry. She put her boots back on and took the other, smaller sack in her hand. She opened it and started to eat the dried nuts and berries on her way back to the tent, which would serve as her dinner.
“Aren’t you going to bed?” Anwen said softly, slipping into her deerskin sleeping bag as Vi stood outside the tent flaps and Gareth snoozed soundly beside her.
“I have to ensure that Gareth won’t run from his responsibility in this large, open area,” Vi said in their low, firm voice. “I will stay up as long as needed.”
“That’s not necessary,” Anwen argued. “Gareth doesn’t run from anything. Just go to bed, it’ll be a long night.”
No… he does run away, she thought to herself as she struggled to find a way to defend her father. He ran away from his home so long ago, wherever that is. But he won’t run away now. He won’t watch me die. There’s no way he can.
“I don’t know that he won’t run,” Vi ascertained. ‘So unless you can guarantee that, I will stand guard as I was ordered to.”
“We can take shifts!” Anwen cried. “Y-You can watch over for four hours, and we can switch! It’s just… it’s been a long journey, we all need some rest, don’t we?”
I feel sorry for my murderer. How pathetic. I can’t help it though, can I?
“You want to watch over your own father as I sleep? How do I know you two won’t try seeing my face or perhaps even try killing me?”
“B-Because…”
Stop stuttering. This is the worst possible time to be irresolute.
“…because even more than wanting to have anything to do with you… we both just want to be with Stefan! So use your nifty Black Shield tools and give me a tracker or something. That’ll keep me from messing with you, won’t it?”
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“I supposed that is an adequate proposition,” Vi concurred. “I’ll think of a solution by the time your shift starts. But in the meantime, you must swear on your life that—
“I swear on my life I won’t do anything that’ll harm you!” Anwen spat out before Vi could finish speaking.
“That’ll do. Now, go to sleep.” Vi said in their cold, stern tone.
Getting any meaningful sleep that night was out of the question. Thoughts regarding the man who slept only a few feet away began to consume Anwen.
Had he accepted the Anbieter’s task for Stefan, or for her? Was it his desire to mentor Stefan further or to keep Anwen alive and well that spurred him on? She knew that he wasn’t willing to give up his stash of Utrium, it was as scarce as hen’s teeth on Earth. But was it his to begin with, or did he just come across it while excavating and making the Titanian warehouse into a home for him and Anwen? How had he known about its location, or that it was a Titanian warehouse? Who was he? Who was the man that made sure all her material requirements were taken care of but did not blink an eye at her emotional needs? How did he come to know of the boy she knew as Stefan and what was their connection? Why was he so committed to honing Stefan’s combat skills and abilities, but could not even do so much as wish his daughter good night? What was it that made Stefan so special that she didn’t have? She didn’t know. She couldn’t answer any of the questions she asked, which prolonged her desire for sleep. The more she tried to sleep, the more she thought, the harder it was to sleep, which caused her to think more.
But at some point, she was able to sleep. How did she know? Because she had suddenly shot up from her lying position, covered from head to toe in cold sweat. Her face was hot and wet. She’d been crying in her sleep again. She knew she’d had a night terror again, but like always, she couldn’t remember how horrific and terrifying the contents of her violent dream was. This was not uncommon. Starting from not long after she was first carried by Gareth into their underground home, she had been plagued by the dark visions from which she’d wake up with no visual memory of, but which her mouth did, expressed in the form of heavy pants and screams that Gareth never seemed to hear or care about despite their multiple years living under the same roof. At first, the terrors would haunt her multiple times a week, but as she grew older, the frequency had decreased to about once per week. After Stefan joined them, they lessened further to once or twice a month. But at the end of the day, they still occurred, and she had no idea why.
She had to take a few deep breathes to calm herself before wiping the sweat and tears off her face. She then made sure she hadn’t disturbed her surroundings—Gareth, to be exact.
“Halsten, Rhona, Andria, old man Henrik… Anwen… come back. Anwen…. Just come back… don’t leave me alone…” the man muttered in a whisper, turning ever so slightly.
Phew. Gareth hadn’t been woken up by Anwen’s fit. He was in the midst of his signature sleep ramblings, which Anwen had grown to be indifferent to. Who those names belonged to and what they meant to Gareth didn’t phase Anwen.
As long as Gareth doesn’t value me, I won’t value the names he keeps saying.
Maybe convincing herself that treating Gareth the same way he treated her would make her feel better.
“I was just about to wake you up.” Vi said, their voice slightly muffled as always due to their ever-present black mask.
“S-So I take it you’ve found a way to keep track of me while you’re asleep?” Anwen said, pulling herself out of her sleeping bag and slipping on her fully purple, metallic prosthetic.
Vi suddenly stepped into the tent and forced Anwen to her feet, nearly causing her to shriek in fear. But she knew better than to wake Gareth up.
“Wh-What—
A grey, metal collar filled with electronic components found itself clasped around the girl’s neck, just loose enough that it allowed her to breathe.
“Don’t complain. Our engineers built these to watch prisoners without actually watching them. You want to be the guard? There you have it. Just know that there is a specific distance you can travel out until I’m alerted.”
“A-Alright.”
Vi stepped in even further while giving Anwen a shove out to the cold, dirty ground outside. They tossed out her coat and boots, so at least she wouldn’t be exposed to the elements. Anwen found a tree within sight of the tent to lean against. She fought hard against sleep.
You want to do this. Don’t complain, she reminded herself over and over again.
The task of looking over the tent for four hours was monotonous and tedious. Anwen didn’t enjoy it one bit, and she could imagine that only someone who behaved as robotically and automatically as Vi could’ve tolerated such a task. Nothing had happened, as she expected. Vi closed up the tent flaps and went to bed.
One hour passed.
Two hours passed.
Nothing happened besides the rustling of wind in the trees and the chirping sounds of a few small nocturnal animals every now and then.
But eventually, something did happen. And it didn’t come from inside the tent, or anywhere around it for that matter.