“Agency is often disregarded willingly, until it is taken away by force. Suddenly unable to act with influence, one realizes that they've become a mere spectator in their own story. Make your choices and feel confident in their outcomes, however it may unfold, for this, free will, makes you an author of history.”

---Excerpt from the unlicensed biography of Jordan Rasa, founder of Futures Ltd.

Brilliant shades of orange and red blended together and turned the sky into a wonderous tapestry. This was the sign that another day had closed for those living in the villages scattered across the vast expanse of grassland south of the Sea of Darkness.

The deep aura of the setting sun bathed the tall grass in soft hues and seemed to transform the gently rolling pastures into a billowing land of dancing flames. Wild and untamable, this mystical illusion naturally gave the region of the Burning Fields its name and, symbolizing their wild, passionate spirit, provided those native to the region a strong sense of pride and unity.

With the sun going down, the villages, peaceful during the working hours, came alive with the sights and sounds of daily life. Farmers led their animals from the fields to be fed and cared for, apprentices paid great attention while cleaning and preparing the farm equipment for the next day of work, traveling merchants set up their temporary stalls along the roads leading into the villages, and the stationed guard units began to bring their patrols in to garrison the walls for the night.

In one of these villages, situated along the eastern regional border, a closed door shook violently. It was a very plain and unassuming door, and, although located in the halls of the largest building in the village, the foot traffic around it was almost nonexistent.

This was the door of a broom closet.

After a time, it shook again, this time with even more force. Muffled noises echoed out into the quiet halls. The sounds of giggling became more prominent when the door of the broom closet suddenly burst open, its latch failing to contain the wait thrown against it, and, with a gasp, two intertwined people fell from the exposed space.

The clamor of wooden handles, continuously falling to the stone floor, resounded deafeningly throughout the hallway as the couple collapsed, laughing uncontrollably, under the mess. Several doors creaked open following the commotion, with various pairs of curious, and furious, eyes finding their way to the young man and woman that were still struggling to contain their laughter as they disentangled themselves.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Aiden,” the young woman teased as she lay on the ground, pouting up at the young man as he picked himself up off the floor, “you were supposed to catch me.”

Aiden looked down at the young woman with a mischievous gleam in his dark brown eyes, chasing away several corny puns that flashed across his mind as intrusive thoughts, “Was I supposed to do that before, or after, you pushed me against the door?” he teased back with a sly grin.

The young woman continued to pretend to pout, propping herself up on an elbow. Her lips were pursed and her eyes squinted slightly at the less than subtle jab. “After, obviously.” she said haughtily.

Reaching down, Aiden gently held the young woman’s hand as he pulled her to her feet, his face flushing even as he chuckled, “I’ll be sure to do that next time.”

Like Aiden, the young woman’s face was flushed with excitement and traces of embarrassment as she tried, and failed, to hide her giddiness.

'Step one complete. Now for the final push.'

Having allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, she looked deep into the young man’s steady gaze with her own blue eyes glimmering with emotion, “You seem to be awfully confident that there will be a ‘next time’.”

Aiden was taller by a head and his height blocked her view of the hallway behind him, so the young woman had a singular focus as she reached up and pulled the young man into a passionate kiss, blatantly ignoring the mass of onlookers.

A wide range of emotions were showcased in the eyes and faces of those that were watching the scene unfold before them: resignation, annoyance, frustration, jealousy, but no one showed any sign of being surprised. This, in itself, said a lot, as the onlooking faces all belonged to the students and teachers whose lessons had been interrupted by the sudden disturbance.

Gradually, and with the dull murmuring of fresh gossip, the scores of eyes began withdrawing back into the open classrooms as the doors closed behind them. Eventually, only a singular pair of eyes were left; resting patiently on the oblivious duo.

It was only when the murmuring appeared and disappeared behind the sound of closing doors, that the occupied youths finally started paying more attention to their surroundings. When the clack of the final door closing echoed in the sudden silence, they promptly ended their kiss. Their eyes filled with the satisfaction of a job well done as faint traces of sunset filtered in from the nearby windows and illuminated them gracefully.

The young woman smiled warmly as she reached up and tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear, "I think that went well. Plenty of witnesses this time, at least."

Contrary to her expectations, however, she saw that the look on Aiden’s face was not returning her playful gaze, but seemed to be frozen in place, the mischievous light in his eyes fading ruefully.

He felt a cold sweat suddenly dampen his previous fervor as the hairs on his neck and arms swiftly rose. Likewise, the young woman, noticing the change come over the young man, perked up her ears upon recognizing the sound of clicking heels, and her warm expression was instantly replaced with a small, twitching frown. A subtle glint in her eye was hidden as her eyelids drooped in resignation.

A cough butchered the tension that had descended.

“Ms. Perez. Mr. Wright. Since you two seem to be wrapping up, I’d like to see you both in my office. Now.” a gentle, but severe, voice spoke from behind the young man’s back; offering no quarter.

Two dejected voices echoed in unison, “Yes, Administrator Reed.”