The thought echoed in my head. The siren rang in my ears and the gun pressed against my head. I closed my eyes.
BANG!
The young girl fell to the ground below her, eyes now lifeless and blood spilling from a wound in her head. I couldn’t let anyone I knew suffer the same fate. I wouldn’t join that girl. This, I vowed.
“NO!” Ambert yelled.
The officer turned to look at Ambert and chuckled. My eyebrows shot up. No, they couldn’t have him too.
Without warning Enya grabbed a knife from her back pocket and thrust it into the officer’s chest. Blood spewed onto the snow and for good measure Enya slit his throat. Ambert looked away with a pale white face. Wes placed a firm hand on Ambert’s shoulder.
Enya dragged Ambert back to where we were in the warehouse. He shoved her off him with watered eyes.
“No one had to die…” Ambert quivered.
“We would’ve been caught. I’d rather be safe,” Wes interrupted.
“But we could’ve saved her!” Ambert yelled, “We could’ve helped her slip away, couldn’t we?”
“And what if there were more guards?” Wes asked.
Enya chuckled. “There was only one and he’s dead. We don’t have anything to worry about.”
Ambert shook his head. “And you, Enya! I can’t believe you did that! I hate all this bloodshed! We could’ve done something else.”
“Like what?” Enya paused, “Now we have one less Regime supporter to worry about.”
“Enya, Ambert’s right. We didn’t have to do that.” I wasn’t about to let her tear into Ambert’s beliefs like that.
“I’ll turn in for the night…” Ambert sighed and headed back to his room.
“What about dinner?” Wes asked.
“We’re waking up early tomorrow. Rest might be good,” Enya suggested.
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
After eating a can of green beans, I headed back to my sleeping place. Laying on the floor in the sheets, I missed the comfort of my own bed. The hardwood flooring below left my body stiff, unable to sleep.
Tossing and turning, my thoughts took over. I couldn’t rest. Not while The Regime could burst through the door at any moment. Images of my body lying next to the young girl’s filled my head. I clutched the sheets over my body.
‘Am I doing the right thing? Am I sick?’
Cocooned under my blanket, I sighed. Dreaming freed me, yet an emotion overtook all of that. Fear? Loss? Regret? I couldn’t describe it. All I knew was magic didn’t seem real to me. Dreaming and creativity could’ve just been a high, not something real— only addictive, demanding.
‘What would Father say?’
For all he knew, I ran away like Mom and Gran. I clenched my teeth. I ran away. I didn’t mean to, but I did. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe I could run back home and wrap my arms around Father.
But if I were a Dreamer, I would betray my own kind— and Enya, Wes, and Ambert. Could I betray my friends to the fires if they were corrupted? A sharp pain filled my head.
Betraying them would be worse than The Regime. I would be breaking myself and the promise I made to help Wes find his sister. If I betrayed The Regime, all order could be thrown into chaos. The impasse stared me in the eye as if to ask ‘Who are you, Calista Knight?’
Without The Regime’s influence, I didn’t know. That was scarier than any gun.
Twenty:
“Fire!” Enya wailed from the center of the warehouse.
I jolted from my blanket and darted to where she was yelling.
Flickers of red, orange, and gold peered off of Enya’s hand. Her eyes widened, panic filling her fierce blue irises. The ground below her lit aflame from the sparks on her palm— lighting spare paper and wood up in an array of colors. Smoke clouded the room, and the oaky smell of burning materials spread through the warehouse. The charred, brightly lit fire ate every item it touched.
“Holy crap, someone help me before I explode!” Enya yelled.
I wheezed. “Hold on, Enya!”
On instinct, I grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and sprayed its contents on top of the flames. Enya, now in a state of shock, watched as the flames on her hand continued to rise, a blue now emitting from the center.
Wes stood at my side and pulled me away from Enya. My lip quivered as Enya’s arm lit aflame. Wes grabbed a bucket (used to stop a leakage in the roof… which thankfully filled it with water) and threw its contents on Enya. Ambert placed a hand on my shoulder, jaw dropped.
Enya’s hand couldn’t have survived through the roaring flames. I pictured peeled, torn skin colored in blacks, browns, and reds… almost like a melting candle.
To my surprise, soft, baby-like skin covered Enya’s arm. It was unscathed— no better than unscathed. She actually looked stronger, but her hair wasn’t as lucky. Her long oak colored locks were unevenly singed and cut to almost a bob. A shade of dark brown— almost ebony— covered the tips of her hair.
“Woah… Enya… your hair. It’s…” Ambert tried to find the words, but they didn’t leave his throat.
Enya touched the tips of her hair. A scowl formed on her face. “Are you freaking kidding me!?”
“It’ll grow back, right?” Ambert asked.
“Yeah, in two years,” Enya chided.
“What happened? I was trying to get to sleep and I heard you yell…” I inquired.
“Get bored?” Wes smirked. It was always like he had it out for Enya.
“You think I meant to start that mess? It just came from my hands,” Enya explained.
She crossed her arms over her chest. The hoodie she wore was singed and the right sleeve was completely eaten away by the fire. The smell of burnt plastic almost made me hurl.
“You had to be doing something. Magic doesn’t just come like that, especially for no reason,” Wes argued.
“You think it was magic?” Enya’s eyes widened.
“What else could it be?” Wes chuckled, “Ironic considering you’re a doubter.”
Enya looked at the palm of her shaking hand. An earthquake coursed through her system, doubt, denial, and frustration flowing through with it. She pointed to her palm and I leaned in to get a closer look.
A small symbol, a flame, laid scarred on her left hand. The ruby flame-shaped mark stared back at Enya, taunting her disbelief in magic.
“Nothing like this has ever happened before…” Enya’s lip quivered.
“So, you wield fire, not just sing! Aren’t you excited?” Wes asked.
“I… I just wanted to find my real family. What will they say now? That I’m a freak?” Enya mumbled.
“Enya, you’re not a freak. You’re a Dreamer. Dreamers can have magic, right?” Ambert smiled.
“I don’t know, Ambert…” I returned.
Magic was a new concept for me and the word barely squeezed through my mouth. I had my doubts. What was magic? Cheap? Painful? Dream-like? A combination of the three?
“He’s right. Oracles, witches, Onlookers, alchemists, druids, and various types of sorcerers have been associated with Dreamers. It used to be rare to find people without magic,” Wes explained.
“Guess that makes me feel a little better.” Enya let out a sigh and looked back at her palm.
“And each had their own mark… their own brand.” Wes took out a sheet of paper and some colored pencils.
He drew several symbols— each with their own color. A crimson flame for fire, a teardrop for water, a snowflake for ice, a triangle for the earth, a leaf for life, moon for illusion, etc.
Three intrigued me more than any others. The first was a black swirled design without a real pattern. What could that possibly mean? The second was a symbol of dotted stars and one swirl enclosed in a circle. The color of this mark was silver. The last was an eye shape, and the color of it was a lilac purple with white in some parts.
Ambert pointed to the flame. “That’s the one for fire. That means you’re a… fire wielder? Fi
re witch?”
“A Fire Elementalist or a Pyrokinetic Witch,” Wes corrected.
“What’s this last mark?” I asked.
“That’s the mark of an oracle,” Wes explained.
“Then it just proves I’m not one, right? I don’t have a mark,” I said.
“Cal, it could be like Enya’s. Since we’ve taken vials of Antiserum to prevent magic and dreaming all our lives, I don’t think anything would show on Dreamers right away,” Ambert informed.
“Ambert, we don’t even know if you are a Dreamer, let alone me,” I paused, “We’re just helping Dreamers out, right?”
“Calista, your brother is a Dreamer. A good one at that!” Wes said.
I paused to let the fact sink in. Ambert couldn’t be a Dreamer, right? If he was, why would The Commander spare his life? Nothing made sense. Yet again, Ambert did feel a connection to Enya and she was a Dreamer. It could’ve been a possibility.
“What can you do, Ambert? Make friends?” I joked.
The others shook their heads.
Ambert laughed. “I can play instruments and make melodies, besides the making friends thing.”
“Yeah, we all know you couldn’t make friends or be kind before,” Wes said. Sarcasm filled his voice.
“And Enya can sing? Can’t you can make a song together?” I asked.
Ambert smiled. “I actually wrote one with her while waiting for you to come to the warehouse. I’m pretty proud of it.”
“You should be, Ambert. It’s a pretty good song,” Wes complimented.
“Can you two play it for me?” I asked.
Enya sighed. “I think I’ve had enough magic for one day. A little music might do me some good.”
We gathered at the piano. Ambert sat on the wooden bench and opened a notebook that sat on top of the music stand. He trickled the ivory keys. Enya took her place beside him. She took a deep breath in and out and sang a gentle lip trill up a scale.
“I never caught the song’s name. What’s its title?” Wes asked.
Enya gave a lopsided grin. “We call it Dare to Dream.”
Ambert played, trickling a mixture of ivory keys, both low and high like I once did. The song’s lyrics depicted dreaming’s freedom and creativity as well as the struggles Dreamers faced against The Regime. The lyrics in the chorus stood out to me, filling my soul with a sense of relief and fulfillment.
“Do you dare to dream?
Do you dare to take the challenge?
As the sun sets behind us
We will bring back the dawn!
We will love because we want to!
We will dare to dream our way out!
We will let our talents show!
Why should we back down?”
Enya sang these lyrics as everyone clapped for her in awe.
I hugged my brother and refused to let go. That was special, inspiring— Crap, that meant he was a Dreamer. This was his fight too. I wasn’t abandoning Ambert. If he were in my shoes, he would never abandon me if I were a Dreamer.
I smiled from ear to ear like I won a prize. “That was amazing!”
“I hope just as amazing as our new plan,” Wes mumbledd.
“We changed it?” I asked.
“We don’t want to risk anything, right?” Wes asked.
I nodded. “What’s the new plan?”
Wes looked up. “Ambert and Enya will sneak into The Information Department as we come in the south through The Science Department. We’ll meet up at the computer showing records and search Aurelia’s name from there.”
“Since when are we going to The Science Department?” I asked.
“It’s Father," Ambert answered.
“His secret project— you know, Project Dark Phoenix— is located in The Science Department, and we want to know what it is," Enya paused, "It needs to be stopped."
“When all of this is over, I don’t want to go back to Father.” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I want to run away.”
“We can’t run away from our problems forever. I will get my sister no matter what happens on this mission.” Wes popped his knuckles.
“I know, but, we can get away so we don’t have to worry about Father…” I argued.
“I agree with Cal. If we make it out of this, we need to run,” Ambert replied.
Enya and Wes thought for a moment, the gazes in their eyes showing their consideration. At least they acknowledged our request, but if they didn’t agree, we would have to separate. I wasn’t risking Ambert and I getting killed.
Wes nodded. “Alright, we’ll get Aurelia and run away.”
He picked up a backpack and swung it over his shoulders.
Enya raised an eyebrow. “What’s the bag for?”
“Tapes. There’s a tape my parents left me for when Aurelia and I were older,” Wes explained.
“You’re watching it once you find her?” I asked.
“That’s the plan anyway," Wes paused, "It’s strange. It’s like my parents planned for all of this."
Ambert smiled. “You should be glad. Because of them, you’re still here.”
“Do you know how to start a fire again? It might come in handy,” Wes said.
“Does it look like I know how I started it? Look, I know my name means fire, but it doesn’t mean I’m naturally good at controlling it,” Enya raised her voice.
“We understand, Enya,” Ambert paused, “You were concentrating, right?”
“Yeah, just thinking about that little girl…” Enya sighed.
“That’s the trigger,” I chimed in, “Your concentration. Your emotions. It’s gotta be.”
“Hard enough to control that as it is,” Wes uttered.
Fire formed in Enya’s hand. “I heard you, blockhead.”
Ambert stood between Enya and Wes. “Enya, it’s okay. Just calm down. Don’t you want to save Aurelia?”
“Yeah, but not for him…” Enya clenched her fist, causing the fire to disappear.
I chuckled. “See? You can get the hang of it.”
“Calista would know,” Wes smiled, “She’s an oracle.”
“Wes, we don’t know that,” I argued.
“Are we going downtown before I burn something again?” Enya asked.
“Yes. Let’s go,” Wes ordered.
Ambert picked up a backpack from beside him. I recognized it from the house. He probably brought a lot of materials we could use. At least he was prepared.
Wes, Ambert, Enya, and I packed supplies in some backpacks and left the warehouse. The snow trudged our steps as we made our way downtown towards The Regime’s buildings, but we didn’t care. Sunlight warmed my back in defiance of the cold around us. The sun began to rise, and so were we.
As the song said: We dared to dream.
Twenty-One:
The downtown area was much more elaborate than I remembered. Ambert could navigate the place like the back of his hand. It was a good thing he came with us.
Buildings in the downtown of Fortress ranged from tall metal skyscrapers with many windows to stone buildings with electric fences around them. Ice and snow covered the terrain in a frosted blanket. Fortress was such a boring name for a capital city, yet I could understand why they chose it.
The Commander wanted everyone to know where the capital was without confusion, so they named it the worst name imaginable. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have lived there, but if I didn’t, I might’ve not met Wes.
Whatever we did would cost something. As I twiddled my fingers, my mind lingered in curiosity. Would we find Aurelia? What was Father working on?
Enya shivered. “How long until we get there?”
“Not long now. We just need to head past the Antiserum manufacturing plant,” Ambert explained.
“I hate that stuff. They actually have people making it?” Wes asked, wide-eyed.
“I’d take any job over that one any day,” I said.
I looked up to see a sign above my head. The ivory letters popped against bl
ack background reading the words: ‘Creativity is dead, dangerous, and drives the mind insane. Support the cause.’
A stab entered my chest. That sign was everything I knew before Wes. Doubts entered my mind once again. My feet pulled me to a stop.
“You okay, Cal?” Ambert asked.
Breaking Order: Book 1 (Breaking Order Series) Page 11