With a few more minutes of staring at the bleak skies of London and shaking along with the worn-down truck, they came to a stop. Blare finally turned to Wes, “You have a choice right now; you can either tell Jax, or you can go through with it. I don’t give a damn either way.”
He looked like he was about to say something, but Blare had already opened her door and let herself out. She marched over to Xan, who was dejectedly staring at the dark muddy water. “Please tell me we don’t have to go in that water,” the girl said warily, not even looking up.
“We’re going in that water,” Blare stated, and Xan groaned.
“Oh god, tha-” Xan paused, as if she just noticed the annoyed scowl on Blare’s face. “Do I need to beat up Wes for you?”
Blare shook her head adamantly. “No, he’s just being really frustrating. He’s apparently afraid of deep water.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope,” Blare sighed. “And he tells me, of all people.”
“Can I beat him up anyway?” Blare shot her a look. “Kidding, kidding.”
“Not that I would stop you. But it’s fine, actually. I’m fine, and that’s all that matters. Though sitting next to a panting, sweaty mess of a man does not help your nerves, contrary to popular belief.”
“I’m sure,” agreed Xan, a smile on her face that quickly morphed into a scowl. “Why are these suits so uncomfortable?” Xan was picking at the material, plastered to her body like a second skin.
“To make us suffer, I reckon. At least yours looks good on you! I’m some sort of degraded art project consisting only of white, black, and red.”
“That is poetic, Defalco.” Blare shoved Xan’s shoulder.
“Okay, we have 5 minutes until we go in. Are we all alright?” Celine asked, standing on top of what Z called the hood of the truck, hands on her hip. Celine, like Xan, was looking great in her wetsuit, which shouldn’t have been possible, with its unflattering shade of black. For the older girls, it was fitting properly and flatteringly around their curves, but for Blare, it just clung to everything but her flattering places. She sighed, giving up trying to make it feel better. They would be in the dim, murky waters anyways.
“Okay, if we’re all good, we should first run some checks. Make sure that your tank is on properly, and people with long hair, tie your hair back,” she instructed, gesturing to her already tied blonde curls. “As you all know, one of us has a malfunctioning tank, so for that reason, we should stick together. In our suits, we also have a tracking device installed, so we can be found wherever we are, and there are medics training under the revival project on-site. We can’t come up for air, and we have to find another way out of the water, via a grotto. That’s the most information that Ki- Jax, gave us, so we have to work cooperatively as a group to get out of this. Underwater is a horrible place to have a disagreement, so we have to be open-minded, and not lose our cool, otherwise, we’re dead meat.”
“You have 3 minutes,” Jax’s voice interrupted.
Xan leaned in towards Blare, her voice a low whisper. “Celine’s always been like this.”
“Having the king send unknowing glances her way?” Blare whispered back slyly. Xan smirked, but Celine’s voice cut in again before their conversation could continue.
“One last thing, we have to have a short list of basic hand signals to communicate. Like come, go, right, left, the works.”
“I have some we can use,” Paris proposed.
“Great, we’ll quickly go over that,” Blare could see right through Celine’s tight smile, but she played along for diplomacy’s sake. Paris went over a few gestures, rolling your hand, a few pointing ones, nothing too complicated. And then Jax announced it was time, and Blare oddly felt quite comfortable, comfortable enough to volunteer to go first.
Casting a quick glance at the people around her, she gave them all an encouraging smile, took in a breath and readied her equipment, and then dove in.
…
It was dark. Muddy with sewage-remains from run-off, and debris from Submerged London. Blare knew that the Submerged were just created because of the rising sea levels which overtook Second Era cities, the same way she knew that the water of London wasn’t that contaminated. It just was that way, the same way that the sky was always seemingly grey. But Blare couldn’t see anything, with the exception of rough dark blobs, whom she assumed were her fellow candidates. Suddenly, a searing beam of light pierced through the muddy brown.
Blare blinked a few times before she could make out the figure of Z’s once curly hair floating around his face and his lopsided grin (well, with his tank, it wasn’t much of a grin). He pointed to one side of his goggles, then back at the light being sent out of it.
Button for light at side of goggle.
Blare herself reached for the switch, and found it, illuminating dust particles amidst the water. Soon enough, 7 rays lit up the dark waters and after deciding on a direction as a group, they started to swim.
It took a few minutes for the first people in their company to start having doubts. Z and Jan looked dubious of their direction, while Wes was just visibly terrified. After some time, Blare found herself at the front of the group, after Celine’s light blinked to darkness. She felt pressure on her shoulder after what seemed like an eternity, and she turned, maybe a little too quick.
Truth be told, she really didn’t want to do this. Leading was not her thing; she would much rather leave all the briefing to someone like Celine (though sometimes, her bossy attitude could be a little too controlling). Leave the responsibility. Because Blare always evaded responsibility, that was her main problem in life.
But it wasn’t just leading the candidates in this trial that she didn’t want to do. The realization hit her hard, but it really didn’t surprise her; she never thought this through, after all. This change, becoming the change, wasn’t for her. She couldn’t help this way. She would rather be on the battlefield, fighting. But she wouldn’t back down now, what would happen? King Jax might agree with Wes, and throw her into-
The hand pressed harder.
Blare blinked out of her thoughts to meet the face of January. He signed quickly. City. Down. Left.
Blare looked down, her light shining faintly on what indeed looked like ruins of what might have once been a city. Not knowing how to sign thank you, Blare just nodded, but January was already gone, in what Blare hoped was scouting ahead. She turned to face the rest, signing alright?
There were nods from all, except Blare noticed Xan’s shaking figure. Blare immediately kicked the water as to reach here, signing another concerned alright? This time, however, Xan shook her head and rubbed her hands on her arms in what Blare assumed was her effort to stay warm. She snuck a look back, only to see that everyone else was also looking at the scene. Celine signed down to Blare, and with the fiery-headed girl’s approval, swam down to join Jan.
Blare desperately cast her mind back trying to think of anything concerning the topic of staying warm and loss of body heat beneath the water, but no little conversations came up. And Blare wasn’t one of those privileged kids who got to go to lessons on old Second Era practices, however fascinating Blare found it.
She couldn’t leave Xan like this, but she had to continue. She was leading the group, and whoever had the malfunctioning tank needed as much time as possible. Luckily, Xan made the decision for her by diving even deeper into the water, leaving Blare no other choice but to go behind her, granting permission for the entire group to go on down to the Submerged city of London.
…
The remaining buildings looked preserved in time in a sort of destructive, beautiful way. The building themselves were broken down and warn from years under the surface of the water. But there was some sort of beauty preserved in this underwater city.
Blare kicked ahead of the group, entranced by the rare sight of what used to be a prospering city. But then, when the water rose, it took half of the famous city with it. Then she caught sight of somethin
g that looked quite familiar to her; the location of the Massacre of Southhearn Street. While it was true that Blare never received any formal education, she had once watched a class through an open window, and that had been the day that they had been discussing the horrid events that took place on that street.
Knowing the horrors and injustice and innocent lives that had been taken in the same place she was, instantly unsettled her, and she quickly carried on, reminding herself that beautiful things weren’t always the right ones.
…
Blare was growing anxious after a few more minutes of swimming. What if they weren’t going in the right direction? She could sense the anxiety coming off the rest of the group as well; January looked as if he was just about ready to turn the other way and go on his own if that wouldn’t have meant elimination. But right around the time that Blare was considering asking the group of what to do next, she noticed an unusual rock formation. If she hadn’t been staring at the rock for so long, she would’ve easily passed it, but her eye was looking meticulously for any sight of detail.
Xan saw it too.
The older girl signed that she would check it out, to which Blare almost didn’t allow, but Xan looked like she wanted to get out of here, so she let her go ahead. Besides, some movement might help her warm up.
Xan soon gave her a thumbs-up, so Blare took that as her indication to bring everyone over. If Z’s predictions were right, getting through the tight space between rubble and rock would eventually lead to their grotto.
Feeling a wave of relief crash over her, finally seeing their end goal, she let her gaze trail over her fellow candidates. Paris, Jan, Celine, Z, and Wes—wait. Where did Wes go? Looking around desperately, dim light faintly illuminating the dark waters, Blare looked for him. Signing a quick wait in the general direction of her fellow candidates, she swam up, knowing that would be the only direction Wes would go.
Unless he sunk and is drowning, cursing you for letting him die in such a way.
Blare really didn’t react well to leadership. Ignoring the rather discouraging voices in her mind, she continued her trek up, reminding herself to add her air slowly, like how the instructor in the palace told them to. Her light was dimming and there was still no sign of Wes, but right as she was about to descend again and meet up with everyone else, she noticed a flash of black and white amidst the dark brown. Not caring about leaving the one place that guaranteed that she would meet up with the rest of the group, she went forwards, reaching for him.
He immediately shook her off. Go.
She restrained from yelling at him, not only because she was incapable of doing so, but also because she knew this was just Wes and his personality. What is wrong? —she roughly signed out.
It seemed that he understood her because he responded with a no.
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have understood him. But she knew what he meant, she remembered their conversation back on the truck. There weren't enough signs in their knowledge to carry out a proper conversation, but Blare knew that Wes was refusing to do this because of his earlier confessed fear, and Blare cursed herself for not taking it seriously. If Wes was going to give up, then it was serious.
You sure?
Yes.
Blare rolled her hands clockwise, then made an ‘x’ with her hands. Forfeit.
Yes. Blare was just about to raise her hands again, and start to argue, until she realized that Wes was terrified. Of course, that was expected, but his still rather handsome face was ashen and chalky, terror quite evident in his eyes. So she just nodded, and let her air release at a minuscule pace, watching as Wes broke the water, forever out of this competition.
And that’s when Blare learnt that she couldn’t make people’s choices for them.
…
Where- Z started to sign, but Blare cut him off.
Forfeit. Entrance?
Z just nodded and motioned her to follow him.
It had been a rather long descent down, after seeing Wes give up. It had been much longer on the way down than up, and her light that flickered into non-existence only prolonged that duration. Luckily, Z was waiting for her with his light at its prime, so she could faintly make out where on earth she was swimming, and now—well now, she was registering the fact that another person of their company was, gone.
Blare shadowed Z, sticking closely to the path of his light. And despite the absence of conversation, she felt perfectly at ease, watching with fascination as water surrounded her, filling up any space. It amazed her, and strangely enough, it calmed her; watching bubbles flow up, and feeling rather weightless.
When they met up with the rest of them, she was met with a rather peculiar sight. It wasn’t every day that you saw January wedged between two rocks, looking quite contorted and uncomfortable. Blare snorted, which altogether was an odd combination while considering her mask, and she had to wait for a few seconds to make sure that everything was alright. They really didn’t cover laughing in the quick explanation they had in the palace. That really would’ve been a sad way to die; here lies Blare Defalco, who died at age 16 due to laughing underwater.
Surveying everyone after deeming that she wasn’t dying, Blare realized with a start that they were missing Paris. Not another one. Right before she was starting to lose it, Z quickly explained that Paris had already made past the crack, and Blare felt her heartbeat slow down, though part of her was disappointed. She still was holding a grudge against Paris for what she did yesterday; betraying others was not cool.
But the fact that got to Blare the most, was that she didn’t actually care that much. She should care. Paris did a horrible thing, didn’t she? Sure, Blare hated Paris, but it wasn’t much of what she did, rather than just the vibe she gave off. The truth was, she didn’t know Nox, and she frankly really didn’t care, which was a horrible thing to admit, she knew. But it was true.
As it turned out, since her light had blinked out Blare didn’t have to lead anymore; another relief. Blare would’ve normally gone first to get things over with, but on the other side were January and Paris, and Blare would much prefer it if someone more neutralizing went in before her, just to prevent WWIV from happening.
Xan had long since gone through, and now it was just Z, Celine, and herself on this side. Blare was getting anxious, hanging back out of their little trio, waiting for Celine to finish. But it was taking her an awfully long time, and—oh heavens—was she crying?
Celine Hollingsworth, the passionate, at times aloof, headstrong leader? Crying? No, it didn’t make sense—Blare must have been seeing things wrong. But it was quite true; the blonde was in distress, but when Z looked as if he was trying to coax her out, she just stubbornly shook her head, and wedged herself further in, looking more and more ready to faint any second.
Can’t one day end already?
Blare quickly kicked her way over, concerned and mildly irritated. So much had already happened, and she was getting sick of the pressure of it all; how people like Celine managed to enjoy being in such a position she didn’t know.
Problem?
Z looked irritated as well, though there something of admiration on his face as well. Tight. Space. No.
Celine was claustrophobic, Blare immediately pieced together, and suddenly, the girl’s fear made much more sense. And if she was wedging herself further in, then did that mean that—yes. Celine, unlike Wes, was trying to get through her fear of tight spaces, and go through with the challenge, because she wanted to be here. Not anything like Blare…
It took some time, but a few minutes and more than a few bruises later, the entire team was on the other side, continuing on what was hopefully the right path. Hopefully.
Z was signing to them all, that they were close, extremely close, when Xan started to abruptly add air into the air bladder and started to begin her ascent. But before Blare could start and go after her, yet again, another hand stopped her.
Celine Hollingsworth laid a restraining hand on Blare’s sh
oulder, shaking her head gently at Blare. But you’re just letting her go, she wanted to shout, but she knew Xan as well as she could after one day. Xanthene Holland wouldn’t just give up for any reason. At least, Blare didn’t think that she would. But she did, and something probably happened beyond her control, and Xan had to go. And Blare had absolutely no control over that, and that was something she would have to live with. She could not control everyone’s actions for them.
And so they swam. And gradually (much sooner than it felt), the waters became a little clearer, and the lights on the helmets worn by Z, Jan, and Paris were growing more and more useless. They were close. Really, really close, and no one had gotten the malfunctioning tank. Maybe that’s why Xan left? Because she knew she had it? Or maybe, Jax was just trying to fool them- hiss.
It was threatening sound, and Blare immediately picked up on it. It was closer than what was comfortable, and after further inspection, her greatest fears were confirmed.
Blare realized she had the malfunctioning tank a little too late.
The group didn’t even notice her panic, until she forcibly hit the person next to her (who was it? Who was it?) and forced out the malfunctioning symbol. Malfunctioning, malfunctioning, malfunctioning.
After everyone understood what situation they were in, and Blare was getting more and more panicked by the second, Z hurriedly confirmed they were at the right stop. Of all places, this had to be the place that I die? So close to breaking water. So close to finishing the trial…
Buddy breathing system… a hand wrapped itself securely around her waist, and she realized with horror, how her oxygen levels were dropping.
The donor gives the demand valve and… they were going up, slowly, slowly. The light was getting brighter, but Blare couldn’t tell if it was the sunlight or not.
Inhale, exhale… the air wasn’t coming now. She was totally airless, and this close.
Inhale, exhale… slowly, slowly. The air stopped, and Blare held her breath. This close.
Release, slowly…they were closer. But too slow. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs for this distance, no. Not at this pace. But what if she…?
The Reformation Page 6