The End of the Fantasy (Book #6 of the Sage Saga) (26 page)

“Geez, Aidan, what was that all about?” Isaac chuckled nervously. “You weren’t really going to set that place ablaze if they kept you there, were you?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, okay. Stupid question.”

“This whole place is laughable,” Aidan sighed as he picked up the pace, not yet sure of his intended destination. “It’s a prison, not a quaint little village in the middle of the forest. It’s the only explanation for why the general populace lives in cabins the size of birdhouses while the Elders are in miniature mansions. It’s all one big joke.”

“There’s room for improvement, but it’s still our home. A place that we will be at for a very long time I might add, if we’re lucky. Might as well get used to it.”

“Hard to when you already have two strikes. It’s plain history. No one with a strike gets an exemption. Not a single one.”

“Well, I don’t have any, so it kind of sucks to be you,” Isaac laughed, throwing his hands behind his head. “Did you hear me? It kind of – oh never mind.”

“We can leave whenever we like,” Aidan said, ignoring him. With barely a thought, he stopped to pick up a stray twig from off the dirt road and threw it into the nearby brush. Isaac thought over the comment as he let out a big yawn. The annual presentation of Advent was one of the few times the village would be up well past curfew, talking excitedly about how they could each contribute to a world that still needed so much bandaging. How their involvement in Lowsunn would eventually give them a purpose they had yet to figure out themselves. The excitement would all end tomorrow though. Aidan had already seen it happen four times. The inevitable news of a scouting mission gone wrong, a new threat discovered lurking at their borders, another wish rumored to be used for the further decimation of Obsidian...it was only a matter of days before their ambitions were crushed like the berries they hovered laboriously over to make their morning coffee.

“Yeah, we could leave this place,” Isaac said finally. “But if we do it now, we won’t have much to look forward to. What are you going to do out there? Use a wish to secure yourself a shelter? Fight over a body of fresh water? You’re better off here. No worries. All the water you can drink. The food you can eat. Shelter. Protection. Warmth.”

“So you would rather live comfortably in a cell than see the world and be free?”

“It feels like an easy choice to me. Let’s see…stay here until my wishes are used for the greater good, in which case I’m then kicked out and I’ll be seeing the world anyways…or, leave now and die. Hmmm.”

“I survived out there once. We can do it.”

“Ha,” Isaac retorted. “From what I’ve heard about you, your definition of ‘survived’ is very different than mine.”

“Well, there’s definitely no way we’ll make it if we don’t have our Yen as backup. It doesn’t make sense to travel once the Elders have already used you and you have no way to defend yourself.”

“From what I hear, they equip you quite well before they kick you out the door. And there’s rumors of sister villages being created nearby. Why does it always have to be mud with you? Can’t be rich soil sometimes?”

“Why do I even bother talking to you?” Aidan groaned, casting his eyes up to the moon. “Nothing is ever solved. I might as well be talking to myself in the mirror.”

“Oh, no. This is much better,” Isaac chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “After all, your reflection doesn’t talk back. Right? I mean, it doesn’t, right?”

“Get off of me,” Aidan growled, throwing his shoulder back violently. “Your hands are so soft, I find them offensive.”

“As I find your hair,” Isaac muttered, throwing his hands into his pockets. “But you don’t hear me trying to shank your feelings.” He sucked his teeth and thrust them back out into the air. The village clothes were notorious for their roomy, dark blue pants that were strangely designed with pockets barely able to contain a pebble. All were expected to wear a bright yellow, long sleeve shirt and then the worst of all – the child-sized backpacks. Little fanny packs that you kept on your back, held together by a belt across the chest. It was hilariously cruel, but that was the local weaver for you. Until someone else decided to either learn the craft or wish to become a master textile worker, they were all at the mercy of Luca Lorde.

Of course, Aidan never wore the standard issued clothing, opting to don the thick, hooded, robe and cloak his father had given to him on the day he graduated secondary school. It was drenched in black and littered with sharp strokes of hot red across its surface, as if they were cuts into his skin. No other symbols or patterns were emblazoned upon it otherwise, and Aidan saw no reason to decorate it further. He already had enough markings.

“So where are we going now?” Isaac asked, rubbing his hands through his messy blond hair. From the steadily rising tide of voices far behind them, the presentation was now over, and soon they would both be overtaken with an assortment of disgusted, shocked and respectful glares. 

“Bed,” he declared. Isaac rolled his eyes. Aidan’s hibernation schedule was interwoven with the amount of people awake. The more there were, the less he tended to be around. If it hadn’t been for Isaac’s insistence, he wouldn’t even had gone to the schoolhouse. In hindsight, Isaac thought to himself that perhaps that would have been the better move. Still, he knew where Aidan truly went in the deep of night…

They continued walking casually, past the miniature cabins that were all designed exactly the same. Whomever had wished them into existence had little imagination. The vegetation surrounding the cabins made up for their lack of décor however. Reaching across the sides and over the humble rooftops, thick white tree branches stretched over with a decadent array of flowers in full bloom. An explosion of blues and pinks and yellows pushed against the tree leaves and kissed up against the wooden posts of their homes. There were even a few Yen born arbors that produced flowers within flowers. In full bloom, their eerie luminescence even rivaled that of the moonlight in radiance.

The local birds, each known by name, traversed back and forth between plants, carrying the seeds to dull brown spots behind the houses and creating new jaw-dropping scenery whenever one fell and became part of the rich soil. Though there was little sunlight that could break through the sentinel forest canopy up above, the surroundings and ambience of Lowsunn was undeniably rich and cozy.

Though he would never admit it, even Aidan was apprehensive over how easily the scenery would take his breath away and force new creations and possibilities to be born in the recesses of his imagination. An outsider looking in would think it was paradise.

But it wasn’t.

It couldn’t be.

It was just a pretense. A ruse to make him comfortable. And the moment he fell into comfort’s arms, he knew he would be taken unawares, his Yen stolen from him either through torture or some other unspeakable measure. It didn’t matter if Lowsunn was the most relaxing environment he had ever laid eyes upon in his whole life.

It was not impenetrable. And its inhabitants were trying so hard to believe that it was. Just because it provided necessities that were no longer guaranteed in the new world: a secure shelter, an abundance of fresh water and food…community…it didn’t mean it was invincible. It had survived almost a decade, but how long until its luck ran out?

Lowsunn used to be a real village with another name, but none of the original townspeople were there anymore. No one was sure why, but then again, there was a lot of madness when Advent came. Wishes being used left and right, and without restraint at the time. All the Elders knew for sure was that the founder (Judge bless his soul) had used one of his wishes to restore the village to its rightful, pre-event origins, and then used his second and final wish to throw a massive, invisible barrier around it, preventing all those without permission from the chosen Elders to enter its walls. Without having to worry about the danger outside Lowsunn’s walls, the village was able to truly focus on the only real task at hand: surviving.

“You think the Elders will ever give us a scouting mission?” Isaac asked as they reached their quarters. All single men and women bunked together in their own respective cabins as if they were boys and girls academies. They were each at separate ends of the village (boys to the south, girls to the north) but it wasn’t necessary considering there were few midnight excursions. Everyone knew the risks. Getting caught after curfew meant banishment. Banishment mean death.

“What are you talking about?” Aidan replied, half-listening.

“I hear they’re going to announce their selections at the dance,” Isaac said. “You know. The Dance of Yesterday?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you ever wonder how we get our away missions?”

“I never paid much attention. The odds of me being picked for one is astronomical.”

“Because the Elders hate you. Your birthday is probably what they call their Advent. But I might be picked for one. Would you be sad if I left?”

“You wouldn’t be gone long, so no.”

“What if I got killed while I was away? Would you be sad then?”

“You would have gone on the mission knowing full well the possibilities.”

“So is that a no?”

“That’s a no.”

“You’re the only thorn in the rose garden, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aidan groaned. “And what’s with the hypothetical situations? There’s only one thing we should be worried about right now. The end of our fifth year.”

“You mean how we’re supposed to give our wishes to the Elders?”

“Exactly.”

“I take it you have no intention of following through on that.”

“Do you?” Aidan asked, turning to face Isaac for the first time in their conversation. Isaac grinned and shook his head.

“Hey, Aidan!” a student of Mr. Young shouted from behind them. They turned to see a short, stocky boy with glasses that were more like goggles. “Heard about your threat during Mr. Young’s presentation. What are you doing? Trying to graduate early? You know you’re not getting expelled while those are still active.” He pointed directly at Aidan’s right arm.

“I understand that, Jared,” Aidan said.

“Then what’s the deal?”

“I have a plan.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“I would rather not,” he said, staring forward. “The walls have ears and the wind is an excellent messenger.”

“Isn’t he hilarious when he gets all metaphorical like that?” Isaac laughed. “Don’t know where he gets it from.”

“Fine, whatever,” Jared huffed. He turned to Isaac. “You watch out for this one. He’ll get you in trouble too.”

“Oh, I’m fully aware,” Isaac chuckled. Jared waved bye and ran off to the right as the two boys remained outside their home. The crowd from the presentation must have decided to mingle in the village center, located further north and in the opposite direction the boys had gone. The voices were now at a tolerable volume.

“Guess I don’t have to blow a hole in the shield next week,” Aidan said, looking towards Isaac for a reaction. All he did was raise an eyebrow in puzzlement.

“Because you have a master plan all of a sudden?”

“Tell me more about these missions.”

“Basically the Fourth and Fifth Years are their strongest and most mature, so the best of them are sent on missions outside of the Institute.”

“I already know that part.”

“You want to learn something or not?”

“Fine. Go on.”

“I think the Elders use the somewhat established adults because they don’t want to risk their own lives to procure supplies and information.”

“I don’t even want to know what it takes to get established around here…still, what I don’t understand is why they use Fifth Years. They have the most to lose. They could stay out there as long as they pleased, and if anyone tried to bring them back, they could just use their Yen to resist.”

“There are chaperones of course,” Isaac replied.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“So your master plan is to go on one of the missions and then bail?”

“Exactly.”

“Like no one has thought of that one before,” Isaac scoffed. “And I’m sorry but it’s too late for you. You said it yourself. No one’s going to send you out there without a leash, a bridle and a muzzle. You’ve caused too much trouble.”

“But you’ll be selected, won’t you?” Aidan said, looking hard into Isaac’s eyes.

“Doubtful. I associate with riff-raff like you.”

“When they’re desperate enough, they’ll take you,” Aidan nodded with confidence. “And when that happens, I’m coming along for the ride.”

“While getting me killed in the process.”

“What are friends for?” Aidan chuckled.

“Well, this is highly suspect,” a pleasant, sweet voice muttered from the shadows between the two cabins. The boys turned, half-worried too much had been heard when the intruder stepped into the moonlight. Isaac smiled with glee.

“Morrigan! How good it is to see you! To what do we owe the pleasure of being able to bask in the glory of the marvelous, radiant, magnificent – “

“ – put a lid on it, Isaac. I’m sick of your false praise,” she snapped, pushing her maroon, thick, horn-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose.