After the third time, Daisy was almost getting used to the sensation of traveling via scheduled blast of underground air. Almost. She was still dizzy, and there was simply nothing to be done about the effect it had on her hair. After removing the iron bolt from the track in the tunnel wall which guided their travel and placing it back in a pocket on his vest that looked to have been made for that specific purpose, Fen still insisted she eat a handful of the berries which tasted vaguely like mothballs and stale tea. There were other nooks in the side of the walking tunnels, similarly situated to the first she had seen, and each time they stopped to take a rest, Fen would answer more of Daisy’s questions.
We as Fen explained in his abrupt, yet succinct manner, was The Rebellion. He had been a part of The Rebellion for the better part of his life. The Rebellion, as he explained
-’S made up of all sorts of folk, Daisy. That’s the point. Wran, Islanders, Main Landers and various other sects that amount to the same groups in the end. We never do get tired of dividing ourselves up into smaller and smaller pieces.
-How did you get involved in the first place?
-Well, Fen began, taking a sip of black coffee they had made from a stash in yet another of his many, many pockets, and a convenient stove with a pipe that Daisy could only imagine had to travel nearly a league up through the ground to vent into open air. It was back when I was still working in the Grand Archives below Apart.
-You were recruited into The Rebellion while you were still on The Islands? Not after you fled?
At this, fen laughed heartily until he began to cough a rough, phlegmy, pipe-smoker’s laugh.
-Fled? Daisy you’ve not the right idea at all. I left The Islands of my own accord, at the request of others in The Rebellion.
-I’m sorry if I don’t understand this fully.
-No, Fen said, leaning forward to first set his coffee cup down on the table between them in the cozy, cubby-like room, second to place his other hand firmly on her knee as he looked her directly in the eyes with his powerful, one-eyed gaze. Never apologize for admitting what you don’t know, Daisy Heartfand. It takes intelligence.
-In that case, Daisy said, blushing slightly. I don’t understand how The Rebellion managed to penetrate The Archives beneath Apart, the center of The Islands’ empire, and recruit you.
-That’s the easiest part of all. That’s where it began. You’re a smart girl. Think about it. We were in the best position to see The Islanders for what they are. Unlike Mainlanders, who only see guards, we lived beneath their world. The brave of us even ventured out into it. It was not hard to see that their nonsense about superiority and the necessity of separation was bunk. It became clear that if an uprising was ever to happen, it would need to start with those of us closest to the lie. So we brought it to The Mainland.
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-But it didn’t make it to Luxan. Torv and I certainly didn’t know about it.
Fen finished his cup of coffee and stored his mug away in a pocket whose origin was impossible to determine. He smiled wryly at Daisy.
-Think we ought to get going. Our next crossroads isn’t far off and we don’t want to be late.
The archives were quiet in the dead of night, and the only noise was the leaves which occasionally caught in the ventilation tubes which snaked up and out discreetly behind some bushes in the courtyard above. The Islanders traipsed by daily without coming any closer to knowing their direct proximity to the hated Wran. On occasion, an adventurous child would find the vents behind the bushes and shout something inane like hulllooo but whoever was on duty in the archive was strictly forbidden from answering. It had only happened to Fen once before, and the child had been quickly reprimanded and the echoes quickly faded away.
The last time was different. Fen had volunteered to work in the dead of night. He did not sleep well and never had. A number of healers had suggested it was due to his monocular situation, and a few had suggested it was because he read too many books and scrolls, even for a Wran, which stressed his nerves too much. Whatever the case, nights in the archive were a sort of salve for Fen, as he was naturally solitary in nature, and did not like to be disturbed while reading. Even after hours of concentrated silence, he was still greatly irritated if something was required of him before he had finished with his studies to his own, exacting standard.
On the night in question, a soft, high-pitched voice echoed into the cavernous archives. Fen looked up from the vellum held flat by his palms and cocked his head to the side to hear if there would be more. And there was. A little girl’s voice called through the ventilation tunnels.
-Hello hello ground people. It’s me, Maisie. You don’t have to say…
-Hello.
Fen spoke the syllables out loud before he could stop himself, realizing too late what he had done, and clapping his hand over his mouth. He took a deep breath. He had only spoken at normal volume and wasn’t anywhere near a ventilation tunnel. It was highly unlikely that…
-My mama’s coming, bye!
Her echoing alto faded and the sounds of small limbs scraping on the ground to get up and through the bushes to an adult summons were vaguely audible, or so Fen imagined. It could have simply been the wind. Fen stood up from the oak desk, his reading lantern throwing shadows on the row upon row of bookshelves behind him, stacked to the ceilings with ancient tomes and texts. He took deep breaths, smelling deeply the familiar smells of parchment and lamp oil and...lavender? He shook his head. No. There was nothing to worry about. The young Wran returned to the vellum on the table, but his eyes could no longer focus, and for the rest of the night he was restless, pacing the stacks until aboveground the sun rose and someone came to relieve him of his duties.
Home in his own bed, Fen slept less than ever, terrified not only that his mistake would be discovered, but what the consequences might be. Wran had been put to death for less. Eye wide open to the ceiling, he took deep breaths until night fell again.