Blight

Being captured was not in my list of ‘things to do’ today.

I could hear the Chasers closing in behind me. Their boots stomped on the hard forest floor, roughly a hundred yards behind. I dodged the trees as swiftly as I could, leaping over fallen branches and whirling around stubby trunks. I puffed hard against the summer-fall breeze. The sun shone down hotly on my face as I darted up and down tree-covered hills. My legs were beginning to give out beneath me as the last of my energy diminished. Exhaustion was taking over. I had not eaten for four days and I could feel my stomach crying out for food. I knew my family was relying on me. The thought of my mother and brother having to go another day without food made my heart throb. They did not deserve this.

The smell of pine filled my nose as I ran off the winding path and down a nearby creek. My shoes sloshed in the cool water. The icy cold hit the cuts on my legs, making me quiver at the sharp stings. I could see a hill looming over the trees ahead of me and I fled toward it, hoping to get more distance from the Chasers. I silently prayed that the water would help confuse them and lose track of my scent. I do well only in close combat, but knowing the Chasers, they will have a Catcher close by.

I heard a pair of boots splash in the creek. I looked wildly around me as I climbed the hill, hoping to find my place of refuge. This area was just endless forest. I decided to take an unforeseen path through the brush, bounding downhill. I scurried along; my legs became scratched as the thorny bushes dug into my shins. I bit my lip and blinked hard, trying to hinder a moan.

The sound of heavy water flow meant I was close to my destination – a cave hidden beneath a waterfall. I dashed towards the falling water and dove into the cool lake beneath it. Submerged, I began to swim as quickly as I could. I felt like a fish put safely back into its pond. I opened my eyes to an underwater world. Dazzling blues and greens danced before me in the sunrays that beamed through the water. Multicolored fish swam hurriedly around my kicking feet. My hair floated around me in long swirls. I smiled inwardly to myself, feeling secure in this undersea utopia; untouched and unscathed. I swam toward the darkest part of the pool. The wall of rock was before me. I could hear the pounding of the waterfall just thirty feet to my left. My bones shivered at the water’s coolness. I searched upward for a small glint of light in the darkness. I saw it just meters before me. I clawed the water, trying hard to reach the only glimmer of hope I have.

I gasped, taking in a generous amount of fresh oxygen, and blinked against the faint light. My eyes steadily adjusted to the cavern’s obscurity. The hole I floated in was at the base of the cave, merely six feet wide in diameter. I hoisted myself onto the rock floor and proceeded into the fissure. My legs were stiff and cold. I stumbled slightly as I walked toward the center of the cave. Tall bulwark of stone towered around me in a great arch. Stalactites hung menacingly above me, carefully dripping droplets of water onto the stone floor. Small specks of light shone through various cracks along the cave's purple walls. I advanced away from the mouth of the cave, heading down a hidden makeshift tunnel.

The floor was uneven. Small pebbles clattered as I absentmindedly kicked them. My hand traced the right side of the tunnel’s bumpy, cold wall until I reached an aperture. A vast space was before me. It was almost pitch-black. I could barely see five feet in front of me. I sighed as I slid to the floor, leaning against a wall. Waiting out the Chasers was the best defense I had now. I glanced down at myself, mortified at its state. The grey t-shirt I wore had dirt and blood splattered all over it. My jeans had torn from the thorns and earlier slashes from a wild mountain lion I attempted to take down.

Cautiously, I rolled up the sodden legs of my pants and examined my right shin. It was oozing blood from a long, thin gash caused by the lion. I tore the sleeve of my shirt and dressed the wound. My left shin luckily had only yellowing bruises and small scratches. I rolled my pant legs down to their original state and rested my chin on my hand. I had to wait for help. A long grumbling sound rang in my ears. My stomach. I searched my pockets, hoping some nuts I scavenged were still there. I discovered a small walnut had stayed hidden away in the thumb pocket of my jeans. Joy overwhelmed me as I smashed open the hard outer shell. I slurped down the flesh and felt it hit hard in the pit of my stomach. I combed out my drenched hair with my fingers and shivered from a cold draft. I sat waiting for relief to find me, pulling my legs to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my pained shins and rested my head between my knees.

How long will it take Micah to find me? I thought. I dreaded the thought of him not finding me. He was my best friend. I trusted that he would realize something was up if I wasn't home by sundown. Fear tugged at me. It had been so long since I had seen him. We only have a few hiding places to go to when we went out hunting. He knew that if I didn’t return by supper I needed him. What time was it anyway? I closed my eyes and thought back to when I left.

I remember sneaking out of the Commons into the forest at about one-thirty. I assumed it took me about an hour to find the lion and ten minutes of stalking and trying to kill it. Getting close to an animal that size is hard enough as is, but fighting it is another story. For Micartyrrs, it’s easier to fight other people or smaller animals in close combat. Larger animals are more of a challenge, but when you’re desperate, that doesn’t matter. I recalled setting off a sensor by accident when trying to get the lion to scale the side of the mountain base I was at, which signaled the Chasers and Catcher. Thus began the cat-and-mouse chase.

Clank. It was the sound of a shoe on stone. Someone was coming. My eyes quickly flew open, adjusting to the darkening cavern room. I shimmied silently to a far corner, concealing my self with some fallen rock. I ducked my head as the shadowy silhouette entered my rocky retreat. It's footfalls echoed, bouncing off the cave walls. I glared into the dim light as a peered through a crack in my rock-strewn shield.

The figure looked around the room and sighed. A few moments passed. The only noise was the light breathing of the intruder. Defensively, I let my thorns extract from my palms. If there was going to be a fight, I was ready for it. Another minute or so ticked by. I think it was listening, trying to figure out if I was in here or not. I held my breath.

The shadow turned to leave; its footsteps faded as it travelled down the rocky hallway. I silently breathed out a sigh of relief but didn't move. I waited a few more minutes and finally decided the creature had left. My feet slid on the floor, straightening my legs. My knees felt stiff from staying in the curled position for so long. My hand swiped across my forehead, wiping away the beads of nervous sweat.

Footsteps were echoing back again.

My legs instinctively curled up to my chest once more. The silhouette took its place in the hall's entryway. I peered through the small crack again.The person stretched his arm out to the wall and made a tap, tap, tap noise. I recognized the beating pattern but hesitated. Finally, biting my lip, I responded in a hushed whisper.

“Micah?”

“You can come out, Azalea,” he responded, a slight smile in his voice. I rolled to the balls of my feet and stood up, retracting my thorns. I looked at his dark profile. He snapped his finger and a small flame floated just above his palm, flickering yellow-red colours onto the cavern walls. Haphazard shadows formed around his face. Those brilliant almond-shaped eyes blazed a brown-amber. His dark, mocha hair framed his strong jaw line, weaving around his face in delicate curls. He flashed a welcoming smile at me, and I returned it. I could only just see his strong build beneath his long navy blue shirt and jeans. His dark skin glistened with the blaze. I strode over to him and embraced his strong torso. He hugged me with his free hand and looked down at me; he stood a good ten inches taller than I did. I looked up at his face, taking in the smooth curve of his lips and strong cheekbones.

“Thanks for finding me,” I beamed.

“Don’t mention it," he replied. "But really, you need to be more careful out here.” He looked at an invisible something on the far yellow-red wall. “You could have gotten seriously hurt, or caught.”

“I didn’t, so don’t worry about it,” I said as I shivered from the cold. I forgot I was soaking until just then. Thank goodness, Micah is a human furnace.

He sensed my shiver and tightened his arm around my shoulders; my skin tingled wherever it met his. “You need to warm up before we get going.” He sat me down and illuminated the room with his hand-fire. It grew to fill both his hands. His features looked more intense against the bright flame.

He’s a Belaonar, someone with the power to control and conjure up fire and lightning. Some can control water, called Quialas. Nedrals are telepathic. Chavaylas can manipulate the earth, while Iraedaers can manipulate their appearance. Micartyrrs, like me, can poison. Our world has always been that way.

I rubbed my hands together in front of the fire and looked up at his curious eyes. “I went for a dip,” I simply stated, answering his unspoken question. I continued, “I was being followed by Chasers and a Catcher, and...” I trailed off, distracted by his grimace. He lowered his head.

“You need to be more careful.”

“I know, but there was this mountain lion and I–“

“A mountain lion? Okay, now I know you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

“It was the best kill I could find! But of course it was too good to be true.”

He grunted in agreement and continued to warm my saturated clothes. We sat for a few minutes with no sound except the occasional crackle of the fire. I felt somewhat ashamed. Micah and I have known each other ever since we started grade school. We were on the same schedule. He and I have always been close. At times, I wished I could move out of the friend-zone. He’s perfect in every way.

“Are you all right to move?” he quizzed, his eyes searching mine intently.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I exhaled and heaved myself from the floor onto my shaky feet. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was.

“Azalea, do you need me to carry you?”

“I can manage,” I pouted. He smirked and headed down the tunnel and toward the mouth of the cave, avoiding my water hole. “Are we not going to go through the water?”

“You must be really disoriented right now, dummy,” he retorted.

“Oh yeah,” I remembered. Belaonars and water don’t mix.

We trekked to the cave’s mouth and poked our heads out. The roaring waterfall fell just a few feet in front of us. The sun had set and the moon loomed overhead, casting a dull light. I didn’t apprehend how late it had been. I must have hid for quite some time. We slowly inched our way on the small stone ledge along the wall. Gradually, we reached the soft grassy ground and began heading west.

The forest had come even more alive. The sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting filled the cool night air. Stars shimmered brightly above our heads while fireflies danced ahead of our faces. We glanced around us, making sure the Chasers and Catcher had moved on. After a few minutes of silence, we proceeded west toward our home. The cool autumn breeze blew around us as we walked, chilling me even more. Micah wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to his side. I could feel my pulse begin to race. I leaned my head keenly on the side of his chest, welcoming the heat that radiated from him. Our steps fell into a rhythm as we came across the creek I had gone through earlier. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes and scooped me up off the ground. I squirmed slightly in protest, wanting to return both feet happily on the forest floor. Micah smirked as he skillfully hopped from stone to stone, avoiding the water flowing under us.

Safely on the other side, he sat me back on my feet. I looked at him thoughtfully as he grasped my hand, intertwining my fingers with his. I definitely did not mind this.

“Is Mama all right?” I asked after about half a mile.

“Yeah, she’s fine. I told her you would probably be out here. She’s gonna give you hell when we get back.”

“At least I’m still alive,” I said. As if on cue, my legs gave out under me. Micah seized me just before I collapsed on the ground and propped me up against a tree. I groaned at the pain in my legs. I could feel the blood drain from my face. I had completely forgotten I was injured; I was too excited to see Micah. He rolled up the leg of my pants and examined the gash on my shin. Carefully, he applied some pressure to help subdue the bleeding and tore off part of his shirtsleeve, re-bandaging the wound. He glared at me, and I returned a sheepish grin. Sighing, Micah lifted me back into the protection of his arms and cradled me like a child as he continued home.

“What did you do?”

“Lion... And some thorn bushes. Doesn’t matter if they’re poisonous though, you know,” I stuck my tongue out at him and snuggled into his chest. The beating of his heart lulled my eyes to close. I felt his hold on me tighten as I sighed into a catnap.

Micah caressed me out of my sleep, whispering into my ear that we were home. My eyes flashed open and I looked up at him. The dull light from our porch showed his face clearer. He had dark circles under his tired eyes. His hair matted with dirt and sweat. His strong cheekbones had small scrapes. How had I not noticed this before?

“Thank you,” I whispered as he placed me back on my feet.

He nodded. “You need to get that stitched up before it gets infected. And I know you aren’t resistant to that.” He poked at my side playfully.

“Yeah, I’ll have Mama do that after I hear her lecture.”

I looked around at the sleeping street. Every house looked the same. They all were small, dark, and falling into shambles. The roofs were beginning to cave in, and doors were swinging off their hinges. Windows had cracks or holes stuffed with scrap cloth to, unsuccessfully, prevent bitter autumn drafts. Every house had one story, three windows, two in the front and one in the back, and only one door. Most had a simple layout of only a kitchen, bathroom, living room, and a bedroom or two. They all were the same; depressing. The only street that paved through our small town in Region 4 was dirt-covered and rutted.

The homes lined the road. Dirt paths swerved their way around the homes, leading further away from the road to small cul-de-sacs that neighboured the homes that lined the road. In the center of the town was a community garden and the Commons, a tall red building was just large enough to hold our small town for meetings. The garden was our town pride. It grew beautiful blue, yellow, and pink flowers that overgrew small paths that paved throughout it. The grass was soft and welcoming.

I returned my gaze to Micah’s face. We looked at each other for a long moment. I hugged him and turned to my door.

“Good night,” I murmured over my shoulder.

“’Night,” he responded, heading down the road.

I forced open the jammed door to my home and entered a room of pitch-black. There was a lingering smell of flowers and rubbing alcohol. I maneuvered my way over to the bathroom, blindly searching the air for the string that turned on its only light. My hand clasped around the string and pulled until a small click sounded. The light shone overhead. I looked into the worn mirror before me. Deep cracks obscured the murky reflection. My auburn hair fell in loose tangles down to my shoulders. Fervent moss-green eyes stared back at me. I inspected my flushed cheeks and straight nose, finding only minor scrapes. A small cut on my bottom lip stuck out. Its brilliant red contrasted with the pale pink of my lips. I traced my tongue over it, testing its sensitivity.

Hello, Lana, I thought to myself. Don’t you just look peachy? I splashed cold water on my face from the small basin in the corner. After dabbing my face dry with my shirt, I shut off the light, heading toward my mother’s and my room, making my way through our small, dark living room. A faint light shone through the cracks along the side of the bedroom door. Mama was awake, probably waiting for me. I grasped the small doorknob and turned it. A candle was burning on a small stool before me. A makeshift bed was on the floor with grass and hay sticking out beneath the worn blankets. There was a small pile of old red and green blankets to the left of me. Soft snores were coming from it as it rhythmically moved up and down.

Charlie, I thought. I went to move toward him when a small grunt made me look to my right. Squinty sapphire eyes met mine. Mama. She stayed huddled up in the right corner of the room. Her hollow cheeks showed the slightest amount of pink. Her salt-and-pepper grey hair hung madly around her face. She was sitting straight against the wall, exposing her ribs beneath her small white tank top. Her knobby knees were dirty from her long day of gardening at the Commons. I sat down in front of her, Indian-style, and looked at the disheveled floor.

“Hey, Mama,” I kept at a whisper.

“Hello, Lana. Explain yourself.”