Mass panic ensued mere seconds after Xiumin and Chen fled the room. I heard frantic yelling, booming thunder, and the screeching sounds of chipping ice. However, the noise drowned out quickly, the two of them getting away with such efficiency I reminded myself to commend them for it later. Unfortunately, these same sentiments were not shared by our hosts. 

The man clad all in flaming red appeared in the now doorless entryway of our cell, a less-than-gracious expression on his face as he demanded, “What the hell have you done?” 

The guards at his side looked antsy; their inner, frenzied thoughts mimicking their outer, panicked faces. Neither said a word of what they were thinking regarding me, and I’m not sure if I had rather them say it or not. If they simply said as they currently thought, trembling voices whispering, “They’re monsters,” I’m not sure how I would have reacted. 

There’s this kind of surreal aspect to another’s thoughts. I know I can read minds, but there’s always that little question scribbled in the back of my head that reads, “Am I reading them right?” It’s only when thoughts are said out loud that I can completely, 100 percent, confirm them. Only then are they truly real. When it comes to anyone who isn’t one of the Guardians I hold dear, the ones I trust above all else, I find myself following this train of thought. 

We’re monsters?

Fear-induced thoughts thunk by frightened minds. 

If said out loud, however, how would I even begin to change such an opinion?

What the hell would I do then, to borrow words from the man who now stood before us: Lay and I.

Though I suppose I shouldn’t dwell on a multitude of questions all at once. One step at a time, one question at a time. Not what the hell would I do, but what the hell have I done?

“They have gone to find and bring back their fellow Guardians.” I answered him, feeling Lay’s hand clasping down onto my forearm, ready to fight for me if necessary. I leaned into it, attempting to sooth his nerves with the gesture, attempting to sooth the red-clothed man’s nerves with the words, “I would hope the fanfare when they return is anything but hostile.”

“Have you gone mad?” He yelled so loudly his men flinched, and Lay did along with them, “You would so easily wear down the trust you so haphazardly managed to build in the span of minutes within mere seconds?” 

I put to use a few tips Cera had given me before, controlling my stammering tongue despite my hammering heart, “Just as I am sure you care for your people, judging from this prison cell you’ve thrown us into, we care for ours.” And as she had said many times, I must always remember that when outside the Hall of the Guardians, when outside of my own, personal realm, I must always show the utmost respect to Exotian I meet — especially those in positions of power. Always. “I mean neither to insult nor undermine your position of authority. In fact, I can assure you none of your men were hurt by Xiumin or Chen on their way out.” 

The man stared at me long and hard, picking apart my words in his head, deciding whether or not to trust me for the second time. Deciding whether he ever trusted me in the first place. 

And, in the end, he left, whispering to the men at his side to stay put and watch us. Lay’s hand moved from my arm to my waist, pulling me closer with trembling hands. The energy bar was aware of his nickname, no doubt. His chest heaved at an unsteady pace even now. The hand I placed on his back abated some of his worry, though I didn’t hold onto the hope that he’d ever stop feeling on edge when put into such dire straights.

Still, from the look he gave me, I could tell he trusted me. 

I could tell from both the expression and thoughts of the red-clothed man as he returned minutes later that he had decided to do the same. 

I spoke before he could, reassuring him that he had made the right choice, “They would never harm Exotians who meant them no harm themselves.” And even then, they’d be hard-pressed to do so.

“So you say, and so it is.”

He paused to release a sigh of relief before announcing loudly, most likely to all of those men who I couldn’t see through the small entryway of the room, whose thoughts I heard enough to indicate there were at least ten of them crowded around, eager to find out our fate, “We’re moving you to a different guest room.” He gestured to the room around us extravagantly, in that over-the-top manner that reminded me of Baekhyun, that meant we had narrowly avoided danger for the umpteenth time. “It’s our second best, so don’t expect the luxury you had here.”

And so, with the help of now twelve guards instead of two or three, we were lead to a different room some ways down the hall. It looked nearly identical to the last, aside from the fact that this one held in it a stench I could spend hours trying to figure out the origin of — which was a good thing in retrospect when considering the fact that this is where we would spend the next thirty-six some odd hours. 

The man in red only said one thing before he left, “When your Guardians return, and only when they do, you will have your meeting with our leaders.”

The door slammed shut, the air cut in half by the action hit my face with the force of an open palm. I’d wager it’s safe to say that I have dramatically halved our chances of a peaceful meeting with the leaders of the Board. Still, necessity demanded Kris and Tao’s recovery; just as it now demanded Lay’s. 

“You should rest,” I directed towards him as he peeked out of the small, grated window in the door. He turned, dropping from the tips of his toes, staring at me over his shoulder with a look of lost confusion — misplaced somewhere that left him mystified. I repeated myself, gesturing to the single bed in the room, “Rest, Lay.”

He replied with a short, clipped, “Nonsense, your highness.”

When I attempted to reason with him, starting with the call of his name, his rebuttal was immediate.

“If I rest, who will be awake to watch over you?” 

I argued back with a convincing, “And if you don’t rest, who will be awake to heal Kris and Tao should they need it upon their arrival?” 

He tossed the idea around in his mind, his habitual commitment to his duty and his undying commitment to his friends wrestling with one another for dominance. The latter won out as he backed away from the door, plopping down onto the creaky bed that was pushed up against the adjacent wall. Still, he insisted with a serious expression before he gave completely into the embrace of sleep, “Do not hesitate to wake me should something happen.”

I nodded my head. 

“Please say you will not delay in seeking my assistance, your highness,” he reiterated, forcing to me to make another promise. Because I had my own habitual commitment to them, to the Guardians, to their safety, to their health, and to taking on their burdens as much as I could, because both he and I knew this by now, he wanted me to promise I’d fight my first instincts to fight alone. And since I was looking to turn my luck around, since I was determined to walk a path of redemption for my past, broken promises, I did. 

“I will not hesitate,” I repeated, taking a seat at the end of the bed, where I would sit for the next five hours after that. “I promise.” 

The parallels between his eyebrows were erased, along with his weariness, as he settled into bed. 

I didn’t have the best first impression of her upon seeing her face-to-face for the second time. That may make no sense, but I considered this second time the first anyway, as it was the first time she looked at me. The first time she really looked at me. Brown eyes, high-rising, arched eyebrows, jet-black hair that curled around her chin, and she had a leer that could strike anyone cold in an instant. Whether she was happy or sad, angry or complacent, her feelings were hidden behind that gaze. 

But her words made up for what her expression lacked. 

Her words were honest, forthright, straightforward, and said with a tone of voice that imparted all the meaning and feelings anyone listening could desire.

Her name was Luna, though she wouldn’t tell me this now. She’d tell me later, after our stark dissimilarities and yet our many similarities brought us upon the same impasse, the same fork in the road, that same question of, “What should I do?” 

I’m getting ahead of myself, I know. 

But, I feel like I have to. I have to dwell on this moment, on our moments, as long as I can. I have to seize them and memorize them so that I never forget what I experienced then.

Now, as after a series of three knocks upon the metal door, it opened. And there she was, frowning — as per usual. She held a tray of food containing two pieces of bread, a few slices of ham, two apples, and two bottles of water. “Breakfast,” she announced in greeting, getting right to the point. 

“It’s morning already?” I questioned, though I didn’t expect an answer. 

Though she supplied me with one anyway, boldly and proudly, “The sun hasn’t come out yet, but we eat our meals early here in Sector E. Who knows when it’ll be our last?” Then, with a grimace, she sent the tray falling down onto the floor, not waiting for me to approach her and take it myself, eyes boring holes into me as though I were easy. As though she could see me for who I was along with who I didn’t want to be. “Plus, with you and your Protectors here, the last time we eat might just be today.”

She was angry, that much was obvious from both her thoughts and her words. 

She was angry because, as she had phrased it in her head, “The one thing you actually do for us is bring Death to our door and I’m supposed to say thank you, give you warm food and blankets, and wish you a ‘Good morning’? Good morning, my .” 

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at her truthful thoughts. The kind I could tell were 100 percent true even if she didn’t say them. Plus, if I didn’t smile, if all I did was regret my decisions, then where would I be at the end of the day? As I said yesterday night — presumably — to Xiumin, Chen, and Lay, regretting all of this would mean I put their lives at risk for something I wasn’t willing to go all in for. However, she didn’t take all too kindly to my less-than-conflicted expression. She took her leave immediately, slamming the door shut behind herself. 

Lay sat up in bed suddenly, startling me. I had learned in our time together here for the past handful of hours that he was a heavy sleeper, so I didn’t expect him to wake up so easily — though with all the noise, who could sleep? With half-lidded, tired eyes, he spoke in a low whisper, “Your highness, if I may give you some friendly advice?”

“You may,” I sang back to him while picking up the tray from the floor, counting how many portions they were with my eyes, anticipating the return of Kris, Tao, Xiumin, and Chen.

Kris went plummeting towards the ground, shot out of the sky with one more stone thrown from afar. Tao exerted himself, sprinting as fast as he could, slowing time as he went. He made it just in time, barely catching his head in his arms before it went slamming against the unforgiving ground. The noises around them grew louder all at once, Tao’s ability wearing off faster than he would have liked. 

“Kris!” Tao yelled into his ears, hitting down upon his chest, arms too tired to manage a strong enough hit to stir the older Guardian from his unconscious state. “Come on, Kris!” He yelled again, shaking him violently. Still, he didn’t respond. 

Tao cursed to the skies above, unable to hear anything but his own voice and the voices that slowly closed in on them. Unable to feel anything but his own heartbeat drumming against his chest. It was here, however, where the real problem lied. Where a problem worth cursing the planet for arose. 

Kris’s body was limp in his arms, as lifeless as a rag doll. 

He couldn’t feel Kris’s heartbeat no matter how hard he pressed down onto his wrist with his shaking fingers. He couldn’t see Kris’s chest moving up and down no matter how long he stared with his trembling eyes. He could only see the thick red liquid that dripped from beneath Kris’s hairline. He could only feel something wet drenching his hand which held onto Kris’s stomach. 

The stone that knocked him from his high perch in the sky wasn’t the first to hit its mark.

As he always did, as he always would, Kris had played it cool. He had pretended he was fine. He watched over Tao from above without once giving him even the slightest of hints as to his physical condition. And now, Tao cursed Kris’s natural disposition to not say a word if no one ever asked. 

To be the cool guy, no matter what. 

The Council’s forces were hot on their trail, their voices growing louder, their footsteps seeming to be only a turn of the corner away now. Tao didn’t have time to debate putting his life into Luck’s hands right now. He most certainly didn’t have time to think twice about setting out to succeed in the experiment that had worked — that he had attempted — only once, right now. Right now, Kris didn’t have any time at all. 

“You’re not leaving us.” Tao told him, cradling him in his arms, “I won’t let her take you.” 

Determined, he exerted himself to his breaking point, all in order to avoid another’s. He could feel his own breath shortening, his own heart slowing, his own blood curdling as he clenched down onto the soaked fabric of Kris’s clothes. Slower and slower and slower, until it stopped.

“I won’t,” he promised, not knowing if it would work, simply knowing that it had to. Simply knowing he had no other choice at this point, lest Fate lay her claim on the future of the Guardian of Flight. Tao could only hope Lady Luck favored him enough to keep him alive even a single day more. 

Just a single second more, as lightning flashed across the sky.

This wasn’t the highlight of our soon-to-be friendship, I admit that. But it’s surely what triggered it. As she, Luna, brought in “Dinner,” another tray, another frown, another unwelcoming greeting, her eyes darted this way and that. And as much as I wish Lay had been wrong earlier, it seemed he was the mindreader out of the two of us. 

She did exactly what he said she would. 

While he was taking a light nap, mentally collecting himself through deep mediation that I had trouble waking him from for lunch just earlier, and I was left with no one watching, no guards and certainly no other Guardians, she took her chance. 

She waited for me to come to her and take the tray this time. As my fingers brushed her own, her breath hitched, her hand went darting outwards, and the tray clattered onto the floor between us. 

The knife meant for to peel the fruit she had brought with her sliced across my palm. 

Only slightly. 

Only slightly, because even though I wished Lay was wrong, I certainly expected this. 

She was angry, so I was gentle. 

I was gentle when I used the move that Lay had shown me earlier, grabbing onto her wrist, flipping it back and up, disarming her with a twist here and some pressure there. She grunted as I pushed her away from me with my free hand, the other feeling as though someone had lit it on fire. Had I executed Lay’s helpful defensive move accurately, I wouldn’t have been hurt at all. 

If I didn’t expect the obvious, I would have a knife stabbed through my heart right about now. 

As I previously said, this wasn’t the highlight of our relationship — Luna’s and mine. In fact, I was angry at both myself and her for fulfilling my expectations. In that moment, I was an enraged woman who was sure of one fact and one fact alone.

As blood dripped from my hand, thick splotches falling to the ground, I spoke in a tone I don’t think I could mimic at the drop of a hat, “I cannot die here. I will not die here.” 

She stumbled backwards, fleeing the room, sending the door slamming shut for the second time. Another smack hit my face, harsher than the last. But I was prepared for this one. I had steeled myself against it. In fact, the dim lighting under which I saw my red-stained hand only worked to lessen the pain. 

To numb it. To blot it out for the time being. To keep me going despite the unpredictable nature of my current future. 

When Lay sprung up from the sound of her departure and saw the damage as clear as day, he said, “If I don’t heal it, it’ll scar.”

And, in the end, it did. 

She did.

A/N: 

This is one of those stories that I wish would never end, you know? The kind I never want to stop writing, you know? I actually can't really imagine it ending, even though I already know how it's going to happen and so on and so forth. As it stands, I predict no more than 45 more chapters before the end. That's a long ways away, I know, but when you think about it, we're almost halfway done with this story! And then there's the chance I might shorten that length even further as I write! It makes me sad. Partly because I hate to see things end -- it leaves me with an almost empty, lost feeling. Mostly because this story has gone in a direction I never thought it would have -- and I love it.

I mean, the plot has remained the same the entire time, but the feelings, the personalities, and the progression of the characters within the plot is just, let me stop myself now. If I say anything more, this will end up being one heck of a long author's note and there's no reason to dwell on anything so soon.

I guess I'm just trying to thank you guys, in a roundabout way, for staying with me as this story went from a romance-focused start to where it is now -- I'm seriously reconsidering the "romance" tag, but then I think about the future and can't help but leave it in. Thank you. Really and truly, thank you. 

Sidenote: I hope you enjoy my sweet gift for you all for this past Valentine's Day. Click here to receive your present!