…I won’t leave you, not while I owe this debt of gratitude.
Rana burst through the mental wall, shattering it like glass. The shards tore at her—but she made her way step by step to Lea, trudging through a slush of broken pieces that cut everywhere but drew no blood. Every foot of ground cost Rana. Every step drained her willpower.
If she ran out, she’d Break.
The pain, now burning, now freezing, now stabbing, was all in her head but no less real for that.
At last, Rana stood over Lea, sweating, gasping, and trembling despite having walked a meager ten feet. The Command which drained all Lea’s magic had sapped Rana’s mental stamina. They were both spent.
Lea found Rana’s feet with her gaze and raised her head. Monster red cleared from her eyes, yielding to realization as they filled with fresh tears.
“You said you’d always do as I say.”
“I never thought you’d tell me to leave.”
“No,” Lea put her head to her knees and curled in on herself. “What did I almost do? Why? Why am I such a horrible person?”
Rana knelt and embraced her. “I don’t care. You’re my friend.”
She didn’t lie and say everything was fine, just pulled Lea close and held tight. She wanted to show she was there. That they were alive. Because if they were alive, things could get better.
Regretfully, the moment ended. Rana urged her, “We have to go. You need to lead them to safety.” Maybe Lea could steady herself by taking control of the situation.
“I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.” Lea trembled with fear.
“Don’t stop. They need your help.”
“I can’t help myself,” Lea said, and Rana knew her entreaty was futile. “I’m a failure. Useless.”
The approaching beast shook the ground.
This was bad. Rana’s ocean-deep headache strained thought by magnitudes. Her heart felt shredded to ribbons of grief and pain at the loss of John and Gaja. She couldn’t handle all six of the others by herself. They’d argue, debate, and tally votes rather than move—they needed a leader. With dread, she looked over her shoulder to assess the damage.
Daniel rode on Wendi’s hand, pointing directions as he spoke. The scattered children assembled at his words. Rana blinked.
They listened to him.
Her eyes grew wet. The aches in her head and heart receded as anxiety faded. She held back tears; she couldn’t let the others see how close she’d come to the breaking point.
Lifting Lea in a princess carry, the girl lay limp against her, crying through closed eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I can carry you. I’m strong enough.” Rana started for the others and forced her posture straight, pushing through her soul’s lingering pain and exhaustion. If Wendi can carry a person all day, so can I. “I’m strong enough,” she said again to make it true. “Take as long as you need.”
They reached the group. Thankfully, the Command wasn’t to stay away.
Daniel cut off whatever Kenta was saying, “It’s not giving up; we’re taking a break. We’re going to Radio World.”
…I won’t leave you, not while I owe this debt of gratitude.
Rana burst through the mental wall, shattering it like glass. The shards tore at her—but she made her way step by step to Lea, trudging through a slush of broken pieces that cut everywhere but drew no blood. Every foot of ground cost Rana. Every step drained her willpower.
If she ran out, she’d Break.
The pain, now burning, now freezing, now stabbing, was all in her head but no less real for that.
At last, Rana stood over Lea, sweating, gasping, and trembling despite having walked a meager ten feet. The Command which drained all Lea’s magic had sapped Rana’s mental stamina. They were both spent.
Lea found Rana’s feet with her gaze and raised her head. Monster red cleared from her eyes, yielding to realization as they filled with fresh tears.
“You said you’d always do as I say.”
“I never thought you’d tell me to leave.”
“No,” Lea put her head to her knees and curled in on herself. “What did I almost do? Why? Why am I such a horrible person?”
Rana knelt and embraced her. “I don’t care. You’re my friend.”
She didn’t lie and say everything was fine, just pulled Lea close and held tight. She wanted to show she was there. That they were alive. Because if they were alive, things could get better.
Regretfully, the moment ended. Rana urged her, “We have to go. You need to lead them to safety.” Maybe Lea could steady herself by taking control of the situation.
“I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.” Lea trembled with fear.
“Don’t stop. They need your help.”
“I can’t help myself,” Lea said, and Rana knew her entreaty was futile. “I’m a failure. Useless.”
The approaching beast shook the ground.
This was bad. Rana’s ocean-deep headache strained thought by magnitudes. Her heart felt shredded to ribbons of grief and pain at the loss of John and Gaja. She couldn’t handle all six of the others by herself. They’d argue, debate, and tally votes rather than move—they needed a leader. With dread, she looked over her shoulder to assess the damage.
Daniel rode on Wendi’s hand, pointing directions as he spoke. The scattered children assembled at his words. Rana blinked.
They listened to him.
Her eyes grew wet. The aches in her head and heart receded as anxiety faded. She held back tears; she couldn’t let the others see how close she’d come to the breaking point.
Lifting Lea in a princess carry, the girl lay limp against her, crying through closed eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I can carry you. I’m strong enough.” Rana started for the others and forced her posture straight, pushing through her soul’s lingering pain and exhaustion. If Wendi can carry a person all day, so can I. “I’m strong enough,” she said again to make it true. “Take as long as you need.”
They reached the group. Thankfully, the Command wasn’t to stay away.
Daniel cut off whatever Kenta was saying, “It’s not giving up; we’re taking a break. We’re going to Radio World.”
