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“Hello?” Amy called out, knocking on Blaze’s bedroom door. “Mrs. Rain? Are you in here?”
“Come in,” Blaze’s mother said, and Amy entered. Amy noticed that she was holding a sword in her hand—it was sheathed, but it was there, nonetheless. Amy tensed up as Blaze’s mother threw it to the carpeted floor and put her hands in the air.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said.
All Amy could see were the red-stained bandages across the palms of each of her hands.
“I should go,” Amy said, swallowing hard. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
“You can stay as long as you want,” she said. “You need a place to live, Amy.”
“I had a place,” Amy muttered. Her guardians had cast her aside the moment she was thrown in jail. It was best to try remaining optimistic now, if for no one else but Blaze’s mother. “When are they taking the bed?” Amy asked, looking around her.
It had once been a bright room, full of colorful objects, plush carpeting and paintings—all items Blaze had bought with her allowance and earnings. Though her heart was in Comida, her tastes aligned with Musgrave. Amy supposed they were all like that in some way. Often, she wished she had been a part of Hearth, but that was back when she still lived in a fantasy land. Reality always came knocking unannounced and unforgiving.
“I’m not having the bed called away until you leave. And there’s no rush.”
“Thank you, Mrs—”
“Please, call me Rachel.”
“Thank you, Rachel,” Amy said. “I...I know it sounds strange, to want to stay in this room with what happened, but I miss her so much. I feel like I’m close to her when I’m in here.”
“If I think about it,” Rachel said low, “then I’ll lose my mind. Keeping busy helps...I know I’ll have to deal with it at some point, but not now. I want to be strong for my testimony against Judge Johnson and his son. I want to thank you again for helping me fill in the gaps.”
“I didn’t think that—”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Blaze is stubborn. She would have helped you in any way possible. At least he’ll pay for his crimes. I can find some comfort in that.”
“Yeah...”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What will you do now?”
Amy looked into Rachel’s eyes and wasn’t sure what to say. She had plans, but that was before Blaze had been murdered. Now there was no one to share her adventures with. No one to wish upon a star for her safety, or—
“Well, there’s an expedition being proposed,” Rachel said, breaking through Amy’s thoughts. “Blaze always described you as the adventurous type and considering that my daughter was the only link to Comida, I was thinking that you might be interested. Of course, you’re free to stay here if you want. You’re like my second daughter. But first and foremost, I want you to be happy, and I want to make sure that we can both walk away from this whole. Though we will forever embrace their spirits in our hearts, I don’t want them to weigh down our souls.”
Amy couldn’t stop the tears. She let them flow right along with her burden.
Of course, she would go.
After all, if Blaze was watching from above, she would get a front row seat to the show.
“I THINK WE’RE SET,” Cameron said, bursting into Tristan’s bedroom. “With my additions, we have a crew of eight ready to go tomorrow.”
“Knocking hasn’t gone out of style yet,” Tristan sighed as he stared down at his bed in the corner of the room. Papers were strewn about it.
“Do you really live like this?” Cameron asked, looking around. The wide glass windows were luxurious, but the rest of the room was filthy, covered in unwashed clothes, papers, books, and dishes.
“I have to do everything myself,” Tristan said. “I don’t always have time for the basics.”
“You can’t ask a maid to tidy up a bit?”
“I’ve been cut off mostly. Any funds I get are from trusts that were put in my name long ago, and I’ve nearly depleted those.”
“Then this expedition really could be good for you,” Cameron said.
“Mm-hmm,” Tristan said, looking up at him with weary eyes. “You said eight. Who’d you get?”
“Not counting ourselves, there’s the Great One—Momo, Lorelai—who we found preaching in the streets. There’s also a young girl and boy from Comida that volunteered named Amy and Balin respectively, and I’ve procured a couple of my father’s old acquaintances—a soldier, and a man who is both a chef and a historian.”
“Historian?” Tristan scoffed lightly. “What does he know? A history of Musgrave? Of the three communities at most? What secrets could he offer us that we don’t already know?”
“Don’t focus so much on the designation. As an historian, he has a sharp mind and a great memory. That will aid us in our journey. If there are many civilizations out there, we’ll need to keep track of who is who, and what their preferences are. We’re on a peaceful mission, remember?”
“Do you really think we’ll come across others? Like us?”
“There’s no way to know until we head out.”
“Alright, thank you for the updates. I’ll take it from here. Have everyone meet me just outside the Lasting Wall in Musgrave’s East End. I’ve used the last of my savings to bribe the guard.”
“That must have been expensive. They could lose their jobs forever if they let anyone through.”
“Well, with what I gave him, he won’t be needing to work ever again.”
Cameron stared out the window and sighed. “Are you sure you’re up to this? If you’ve given your money away, and the mission fails, you won’t be able to afford to live here. You’ll be forced to the streets.”
Tristan smiled at him weakly. “Then my body will simply be going to where my heart already is.”
Cameron said nothing. He could sense that Tristan was about to get very sentimental, and that was usually his cue to bow out. With a clear of his throat, he left quickly, and Tristan watched his back with a familiar sensation in his chest—that feeling that his needs were being denied. It was okay. He was getting used to it with each passing year, and the pain had now subsided into a numbing annoyance. It was better this way.
Tristan lifted his head and looked back towards his father’s study, as if he could see past the walls and doors between them. His father probably wouldn’t even care that he spent his life’s savings, or worse, it might be the final nail in the coffin, and he would be thrown out of the mansion before he could say the word, “bankrupt.” He considered saying goodbye at least, but the thought was shoved away by doubt. No, not now. It was better to leave first and secure his name, then he could return and be recognized.
Tristan reached down and grabbed the supply list. It was the essentials and nothing more. He didn’t have enough to afford weapons, and the food he procured was no better than edible. He’d have to maintain a healthy and jovial spirit to keep the morale high.
He looked down as his clothing—a pair of slacks and a long sleeve, blue dress shirt from Comida. They were so plain that he thought the dust on his sleeves were bugs. The material wanted to make him vomit, but he withstood the urge. Instead, one arm at a time, he removed his coat—a gift from a friend of his mother’s when she thought they had fallen on hard times. He threw it on the table and then cracked his knuckles. Like a snake shedding his skin, he cast away the last of his Musgrave heritage.
CAMERON APPROACHED Tristan eagerly, and Tristan immediately noticed the fine tailored clothing on his newfound Musgravian friend. Though Cameron had opted for more function over fashion, the clothes were still apt to cause dissention in the crew, especially considering they were in mixed company.
“You like it?” Cameron asked, putting a shiny sleeve of his coat in Tristan’s face. “Water resistant. Custom made.”
“It will definitely help in the rain,” Tristan nodded, stretching his head high so he could get a glance at the team. None of them were talking to one another—they stood apart, even those from the same community, and each of them looked like they were already regretting their decision.
“You should introduce yourself,” Cameron said. “They’ll want some kind of reassurance that you’re not sending us to a bloody death.”
“Could be.”
“Hey, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” Tristan said. “We don’t know what’s out there.”
“Is that a part of your speech? Because I think you should take a few parts out. Like all of it.”
“I won’t screw this up.”
“Then what are we doing?” Cameron said, clenching his jaw.
“We’re leaving,” Tristan said with his head held high. “Right now.”
“You’re not going to address them?”
“Did you make sure the supplies were dispersed evenly?”
“Yes, but was that all? We have enough for a few weeks at most. If we ration, perhaps a little over a month. I thought this was a long expedition.”
“It is. We’ll forage once we’re on the outside.”
“Are you going to speak to them?” Cameron repeated.
“I will,” Tristan said, walking past him. The members of his crew perked up upon seeing him, and he spared no words. “We’re leaving. Grab your things,” he said, and then he walked past them without another glance.
“Inspiring,” he could hear Cameron mutter from the back.
Tristan could feel them staring at him, but he kept his focus forward on the guard before them—an armored man, crouched down with his hands gripped on the massive lever underneath.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” the guard asked from underneath the metal. “I won’t refund the money, but I don’t want to know if I was responsible in your death either.”
“We have a schedule to keep,” he said. “Please open the wall.”
“Mm-hmm,” the guard said, pulling down on the lever with all his might. The pulley system activated and the gears within the wall itself began to crank and turn. Slowly, it rose, and even Cameron was overcome in awe.
“Let’s go,” Tristan called out, and they proceeded without hesitation.
The crew had been completed, and the journey was now set. The uncertainty and the fear of the unknown began to settle upon them all as they headed towards the East and through the Lasting Wall—the single defense preventing the elements and the wild from entering the three communities’ most prestigious district.
As they had to walk through the private sectors, any crowds interested in their strange procession were forbidden to follow along, and the silence was now nerve-wracking, with only their belongings making noise as they swung back and forth with their stride. They were all strangers, and yet, they were preparing to trust each other with their lives. They were all from the three communities, and yet, they had to become one if they had any hope of surviving.
It was truly a fool’s journey. The kind that came only of desperation. Of yearning and a hunger that lied only in the depths of the human spirit. Lost in their own thoughts, they could only dwell on their own personal longings, until they reached the end.
No one but Tristan and Cameron knew for sure that the wall could open.
That there were gates hidden seamlessly in the pitch-black surfaces—a solid material that didn’t reflect their images.
A strange, yet somewhat familiar valley lay before them beyond the frame, inviting them to discover its secrets. A cool breeze swept inward and brushed against their faces.
Amy took in a deep breath and filled her lungs with the strange scent. It was sweet, yet bitter. It reminded her of Blaze.
Cameron pulled at the lapels of the coat and shuddered. Spring was near, but it couldn’t come soon enough. Thoughts of home flashed in his mind. Of the fireplace and the plush carpets beneath his bare feet. But then he remembered the legacy of his father, and how difficult it would be to top it. He immediately cast the past away.
Lorelai kept her focus narrowed on the task at hand. Breathing heavily, she found the air pungent and stifling, but it only renewed her. It was unfamiliar, and she liked unfamiliar. Perhaps she could find peace for her people in a strange land, especially after she had failed epically at home.
Balin of Comida, ready for adventure, left all his belongings at home, bringing only the shoes on his feet and the clothes on his back. With only his wit and will to drive him, he would achieve greatness.
The middle-aged chef and historian, Desmond, led the charge into the unknown, eager to start life anew. The woes of the past nipped at his heels, but he would outrun them with all his might.
Momo smiled when she saw Desmond practically skipping along with gleeful abandon. The boy, Kent, came to mind. She was glad that she had given him the time of day. Without it, she would still be stuck at home, withering away and haunting her community like a ghost of a long-forgotten war. She may be able to live again.
Willa Kinsler kept a pad of paper and a pencil at the ready, already preparing to outline the first steps of the new world. She was the most stoic in face and form than the rest of them, though on the inside she was screaming. This was not where she belonged. This was not the mission she signed up for, and yet, what was her choice now? She never backed away from anything.
Tristan stopped suddenly and looked back at the many faces that were accompanying him. Seeing him halt, they followed suit, and Tristan cast his eyes to the heavens as he spoke.
“This is not an expedition of Musgrave,” he stated, making sure to look into the eyes of every one of them, making contact, and then proceeding on to the next. “All three communities are here, with purpose lodged in their chests. Many would think we’re insane, but the best ideas, the most noble of missions, always are. We are not here to pat ourselves on the back and congratulate one another on maintaining the status quo—for doing what we’ve been taught to do our entire lives. That’s easy. That’s muscle memory. No, we are here because we are the misfits. We are the world-breakers. The difficult. We’re the ones that change history and consequently force others to follow OUR status quo. There are dangers unknown out there. Some of us may even die...but what here...was truly worth living for? I lived in Musgrave, where I could have anything I wanted, and my entire life I have been hollow. It’s because I knew deep down that I was living someone else’s life, not my own. I followed their script, their purpose, their ideals, their vision. Today, we throw destiny behind us, and forge a new one, out of the sweat and blood of our will and ambition. Today, we leave the mundane behind, and let our fantasies manifest.”
He needed no applause or recognition. He had asked for that for far too long, and it had not yet been earned.
Right now, he needed them to simply work together.
For all intents and purposes, this was his family now.
Yes, he had to get to know them. Their strengths and weaknesses. Their dreams and their nightmares. Where they came from and what they were seeking out to accomplish. It would take a lot of time to reach that level of friendship and camaraderie, but at least it was fresh and new and exciting.
“Farewell,” the gate’s guard bellowed, shaking Tristan from his thoughts.
The gates shut behind them, causing them all to turn.
It was done. The Lasting Wall was closed.
All but Tristan turned quickly to see the new world in front of them. It was as if Spring had already welcomed them. Various insects hummed as they zipped amongst the short but wide trees. The grass was soft and untouched by feet in what appeared to be months. The sun was bright and warm, lighting their path through the miniature forest canopy.
They began heading out into the unknown.
Except Tristan.
He had been the only one to look back at the black wall, and the surface was far different than what he had expected. On the inside—in Musgrave—it had been smooth and polished.
On the outside, there were markings.
Of swords. Of beasts. Of monsters he had no desire to come across.
The slashes, cuts and marks crisscrossed and overlapped each other. Signs of desperation were felt beneath the grooves, and Tristan felt his heart beginning to beat faster.
He whipped his body back toward the group, who were already several yards ahead of him. Snippets of his conversation with Cameron about the dangers ahead echoed throughout his thoughts as he tried to still his rapid breathing.
He didn’t want to scare them, for they were already along their way. Perhaps the marks were from a distant past, although something told him innately that this was not so.
He caught up to the others quickly, joining them in the long-awaited expedition.
He only wondered...
Who else in the world, had just begun theirs?
THE JOURNEY CONTINUES IN:
VOLUME 3: THE PROTECTORS
