ᒪIGΉƬПIПG DӨΣƧ ƧƬЯIKΣ IП ƬΉΣ ƧΛMΣ
PᒪΛ𐌂Σ, IDIӨƬƧ

𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 doesn't strike in the same place was a big fat liar. Elvira had now seen lighting strike the same statue in the village center twenty-seven times. She hoped no one was fetching water this time. At this point New Rome might actually run out of ambrosia.

     At the pace the lightening was striking, she worried that might not be the only thing New Rome runs out of. Twenty-seven demigods. Twenty-seven in a little over a week. A few hours after the first trio that had been sent on the quest, three bolts of lightning had struck the fountain of Jupiter, electrifying many near the water. They had barely acknowledged the deaths before they were brought to the village center to scorch another three names and send them on their way.

Elvira could feel the vile rising up in her throat, burning at her esophagus as her stomach churned. Her feet knew the way to the bathroom without her brain having to think about where she was going, and a few seconds later she was emptying her stomach of the days lunch. Her ears had started to ring even before she watched the lightning strike, and she knew there would be another name reading that night.

What a terrible thought, Elvira thought to herself. Three demigods had just met their fate, added to the names of the ones who'd died before them, and her thoughts remained with the fear of her own name getting foreseen. The daughter of death felt each loss in her ribs, and she was terrified she'd be the next.

     She wasn't alone in her fear. As she sat propped up against the bathroom stall, another member of the legion came scampering across the tiles. Not a moment later the sound of throw up joining the toilet water met Elvira's ears, making her want to throw up again.

     She stood, shakily, and moved her way out of the stall. Her hands moved on their own as they washed themselves, Elvira's head elsewhere. At the least, the ringing in her eardrums had stopped. The deaths must have been quick.

     Although she knew not to, her mind wandered to those three demigods. They had lasted longer than any of the other groups: a full day. Elvira wondered if they'd spent that day full of fear or if they'd known all along it was coming, so when it came it felt more like acceptance and destiny rather than an abrupt misdeed.

     Words like a prayer began to form in her head as she thought about all the lost demigods. She hadn't known any of them personally, tending to stray from the legion when she could, but she still knew them. She knew the redhead, kissed by the fire of Apollo, liked to wear her hair in complex braids. Elvira couldn't help wondering if she'd died with the braid she'd departed with or if she'd redone it at some point during the quest. Elvira hoped her father heard her words, and encouraged the demigods to choose rebirth rather than stay in the Underworld.

     Elvira knew her and her father were never on the best terms, so she hoped he might listen for the sake of a brownie point. They'd fought over this very situation when he'd given her a tour of the underworld. She didn't find it fair that the cruelest mortals knew where they were going, and for that they could not escape, but everyone else, mortal and demigod, who chose to stay in the underworld did not know where they would go. They could get everything they'd ever wanted if they chose to stay, and the temptation was often far too strong to choose rebirth. That was why so many ended up in Asphodel, unaware they'd lived a life of regret and lack of fulfillment and unaware that was something you could pay for.

     It wasn't those demigods fault they didn't finish the quest. Everyone knew the quest was a death sentence, yet everyone also knew the regret that came with failing the legion. Whether cohort or quest, the shame of failure was a method New Rome used to promote success. Those poor demigods were doomed if Pluto didn't head Elvira's silent plea.

      With shaky hands, she reached for the sword discarded on the tiled floor. Elvira hadn't even realized when she'd dropped it, but she knew she didn't have it when she was kneeling in the stall. As she was making her exit, two other girls were rushing inside.

The outside was so painfully white. The sky lacked color like the people lacked life. Elvira's eyes hurt stepping back outside. She looked around, aware that training was still underway, but it seemed no one cared to practice. People gathered in groups, hugging each other for comfort. Others cried into safe arms, whether their tears were for the dead or their own fate was only known to the mourner. Elvira shifted uncomfortably, unaware of what to do with herself.

Suddenly she was held by her upper arms and slightly shaken. The crying girl in front of her had come out of nowhere. "Is there—is there anything I can do for him?" she sobbed. A girl with black hair stood awkwardly behind the crying girl, gently rubbing her back and trying to pry her away from Elvira. "No, no," she cried, distressed straining her voice. "What can I do?"

Elvira's heart began beating so rapidly she could hear it in her ears and feel it in every part of her body. She looked around frantically, but her vision couldn't focus on anything. Was there a crowd? She felt like there was a crowd. Who was the girl? No—who had she lost? A guy? Which guy? There had been two. Was she a friend? A sister? A girlfriend? She was asking a question. What could she do? Nothing impactful. Could Elvira help? Was the plea what she wanted to hear? Would she cry knowing what had been pleaded? Or would she want more? Her fingernails dug deeper and she was hurting Elvira.

When the crying girl was torn away from Elvira, she'd left scratches down her arms. They burned ever so slightly, but Elvira barely felt it through the hammering in her skull.

"Elvira, walk with me."

Elvira felt like she couldn't breathe. Maybe she wasn't. She felt something around her shoulders, she saw the ground moving but didn't feel her own feet walking, then she was sitting down but she didn't know where.

But she was breathing. Or... oxygen was inflating and deflating her lungs. Her lips were parting and inhaling air, but not by her own account. Elvira blinked over and over, watching at the brightness of the day returned.

"Nyla," she breathed. It came out in barely a whisper, but a small smile stretched the leader's face.

"Good to see we're breathing again," she said, voice rich like honey. Nyla lowered her hand from where her fingers had been conducting air into Elvira's lungs.

A moment before, Elvira hadn't been sure she was alive, now she knew she was by how hot her cheeks had grown. She could have bet the summer day was actually showing itself instead of the dreary atmosphere it had been the past week. The armor strapped to her body felt like it was weighing her into the ground.

"I lost my helmet." Elvira cringed at her words as Nyla laughed. Her voice sounded like a summer song. Go figure. Maybe she was purposely making the air feel hot, like she did when the cohort was being disruptive. But Elvira knew deep down she had put her attention to making sure she was breathing, she wasn't trying to make Elvira come close to heat exhaustion.

"You can borrow mine," Nyla offered, placing the pristine helmet on to Elvira's head. "Try to ignore this all to the best of your ability. You don't owe anybody anything."

      She knew what Nyla meant. Just because she was the daughter of Pluto, it didn't mean she was responsible to sooth the mourners. How could she anyways?

"Ready to get back to training?" Nyla asked.

Elvira supposed so, but she knew she wasn't going to be paying much attention. Nobody would be, their minds would already be down in the village, surrounded by the dying sun and illuminated by Apollo's fire.

     Nyla and Felix did their best to rope everyone back into training, but even their best methods couldn't keep the cohort together. Out of the five cohorts, three of them were staring at their centurions with blank gazes. As Elvira and her assigned partner nonverbally agreed to fake dual, the centurions from the other cohorts pulled Nyla away and left their practice under Felix's administration.

The cohort wasn't a fan of Nyla's methods, but they hated Felix's much more. Every child of Jupiter had something to prove, especially one who'd risen to centurion in only three years. Pairing one with a praetor only made it worse. By Nyla's side, Felix was a jokester, but putting him in charge— he either let them slack or made it the most difficult training exercises he could. Most of the time he just pulled tricks on them. Plus, nobody liked the way he watched over them like a hawk. Literally over them.

Elvira watched as Felix received his order, straightening his posture before his feet lifted gingerly into the air. The cohort released an audible sigh as they mentally prepared themselves to put training to the forefront of their thoughts. Elvira locked her jaw as she fought the urge to roll her eyes at the idea of it all.

     Staring up at Felix, Elvira couldn't help the intrusive thought that he was a bit full of himself. She watched as he kept his chest puffed out in some sort of power-absorbed stance. At the end of the day, they were cousins. Well, if you got to technical with all of it— it was best to not think about it at all.

     "Cohort!" Felix shouted, his voice commanding respect. "Carry on."

     Elivira had heard the way his voice trailed off. The words tumbled off his tongue laced in pity. It often did the same when he spoke about anything that really mattered to him. He'd start speaking quietly, then come back with a joke to change the topic. Felix had friends here. She wondered if any of them had been the twenty-seven.

Nyla didn't return by the time that Felix called it a day. Their cohort had stayed at it the longest, the others retiring much earlier in the afternoon. Sulking, the first cohort made their way back from the field of Mars with very few tripping into trenches.

     The rest of the afternoon was meant to be chores. Technically, they should all be off cleaning the aqueduct, dusting the drafts, testing the catapults, but instead the legionaries were packing their bags, laying in their beds, or making their way to Pluto's shrine. Some might even be heading to Fortuna's temple to spend the next few hours basking all the good luck they could until the reading of the flames.

     Elvira stared at the ceiling, unaware how fast time was moving. While she was lost in her thoughts, others were making smarter use of their time—they were making offerings for themselves and for the lost. They were spending the hours before damnation with their loved ones and friends. As the gong rang to gather them in the square, Elvira wondered if she should've spent her time better. The worst part was, she couldn't even remember all the thoughts that had consumed her time. All she knew was one moment she bundled up in her bunk bed and the next she was standing in her spot beside the other legionaries.

     The trudge down to the village center resembled a funeral march rather than a battle march. There was no glory in this quest any longer, only honor that came at the price of death. 

The cohorts filed into the square in order before the slightly risen platform. The first cohort filed in first, standing dead center before the giant stone basin on a pedestal. To the left filed the second cohort, to their right the third, and so on and so forth. Behind them stood the veterans, those of whom who'd retired from the legions but were still able to be chosen for the quests. A veteran, a Saturn girl about to graduate from New Rome University, had been chosen for the seventh trio.

When the void sky turned dark enough they noticed it was night, the fires came to life in the square. The rise of the orange flames only contributed to the tense ambience. Only the running water of the fountain kept the dead silence at bay.

The gong chimed once and the entire square snapped to attention, straightening their posture and holding their hands behind their backs. A second gong chimed and the centurions stepped forward in synchronization, all bowing to one knee. First the praetors rose, then the centurions followed. A third and final gong sounded. Elvira felt like it was vibrating through her body and got trapped inside her head.

Following the third gong, the centurions took to the platform and the Augur and his trainee stepped forth. The little boy, the apprentice, carried a bag of charcoal and dumped it into the empty basin. He took a long match from his pocket and struck it against the stone. The orange flame illuminated the boys red hair, and Elvira pieced together why he looked so sad. Standing up there to receive Apollos message really meant his sister with the braids was dead.

     The Augur, a boy from the second legion, stepped up beside the red head. Two weeks ago Elvira hadn't a clue of his name, only that he had a knack for noticing things others didn't. Now she couldn't forget the name that doomed all others. But when it came down to it she couldn't blame Wahyu for the gift he'd been bestowed. Not without blaming herself for her own gift and her inability to help anyone with it.

     New Rome was eerily silent as the fire crackled and the applicable shuffled their feet. Everyone's minds were loud with wishes of staying far out of the fire. Nobody quite understood what Wahyu saw, his face made of stone as his dark eyes reflected only the flames. His young apprentice had yet to master the statue-like stillness. Standing to the left of Wahyu, the redhead let his emotion get the better of him, an expression of fear over his face.

     Wahyu stared into the fire without so much as blinking. When his eyes raised, the entirety of New Rome held their breath.

     "Ames, Elvira. Legion one. Legionnaire. Child of Pluto."

Elvira hadn't heard much past her first name before the sound was taken over by ringing. She felt like she had when she felt the oncoming lightening, overwhelmed and nauseous. Around her the other children of the first Legion shuffled to make a small path for her. Their eyes occasionally broke protocol to give her a look. Elvira wasn't sure what was behind their eyes.

Only when her eyes locked onto Nyla's did Elvira realize she still hadn't moved from her position. To her surprise, her breathing wasn't as ragged as she'd have thought it would be. Nyla put on a small smile and nodded to her. Somehow, the small action she gave everyday, often to give approval of this or that, was enough to give Elvira the strength to move her feet.

She must have blacked out the entire walk up to the elevated stage. Then some part after. She remembered staring out at the crowd, watching as they stared at her then averted their gaze back to the ceremony.

That was all. She didn't realize the next name had been called until he was standing beside her. "Feli—"

In a swift and subtle movement Felix took her hand in his, squeezing it to show her comfort but more so to keep her quiet. Elvira, peeved by the action, eventually came to terms with it as the minutes ticked on in waiting. His hand, as sweaty as it was, provided something to keep her tethered to the moment before her.

A third name. A third name. Everyone was waiting eagerly for a third name. The applicable were hoping it wasn't them. They were hoping it wasn't friends. The nonapplicable were hoping not to see their loved ones— friends, family, siblings, mothers and fathers— join the two demigods already chosen to take on the quest.

Elvira was still stuck on Felix being up here with her. A centurion hadn't been named before. For regular quests it was almost a given that centurions would be packing their bags, but it had yet to happen for Pandora's Quest. Everyone thought the gods didn't want to waste such a proven demigod, but apparently Jupiter himself was willing to sacrifice his son.

"Flores, Jasmine."

"Just my luck," Jasmine grumbled below her breath.

"Legion Two. Legionnaire. Child of Fortuna."

Jasmine's eyes locked to the ground as they stepped away from the crowd. She moved like liquid, finding the space between the legionnaires around her and slipping through the cracks. Her heart felt heavier than it had been before, while the rest of New Rome felt a burden raised off their shoulders. For the time being, at the least. They knew soon they would be gathered back in the square, wishing everything they had earlier and making promises they won't keep to gods that don't listen.

Jasmine took their spot beside Felix. "Well, ten times the charm, right?"

     Felix stifled a laugh, trying his best to remain professional. Elvira, on the other hand, simply glared. "Someone's in a bad mood," Jasmine whispered, then fell silent like her two companions. The only sound was the crackling of the dying fire and the Augur's steps as he moved to the forefront of the stage. From the ground, flames behind Wahyu secured the image of Apollo's messenger, but from where the three candidates stood it all looked like a ruse.

"The Gods have spoken," Wahyu began as he always did. His voice was louder than it needed to be, projecting to the entirety of the village. "Through Apollo's flame the Gods have decided on the three candidates best fit to serve as our guardians and defenders— to take on Pandora's Quest and save us from dark times. We call upon our gods, both parents and ancestor, to give their blessing to our three hero's and offer them safe journey. All temples shall remain open tonight for those who wish to seek guidance and solidarity. This ceremony is now—"

The fire behind Wahyu had began to grow as his speech continued, but he couldn't hear the crackle and pop. The apprentice, whatever his name was, tried to control the wild flames, but fear was creased into every wrinkle on his young face. From the ground it only seemed like Apollo's power shining through his Augur, but from the stage it was a worrying sight. The apprentice watched the flames in terror, tears streaming down his face. The flames had turned blue, only the tops of it a bleeding orange. The three candidates wished they could see what had the apprentice frozen in place.

Just as Wahyu was finishing his speech, concluding the ceremony, the apprentice rushed forward and grabbed him by the arm. Wahyu, trained in battle like all the rest, immediately became defensive. But when his back had fully turned, he lost his grip on the young boy. The flames from the basin had grown twice his height, but it was not their size that scared him. It was what he saw inside the blue hellfire that turned his throat dry. That or the smoky heat.

"Wahyu," the boy croaked through tears and smoke. The crowd below took a few steps away from the raging fire, breaking protocol. Only the centurions and Praetors kept their station.

It felt like minutes, when in reality it was no more than a few seconds the fire spit smoke and bit at the air. In an instant the flames disappeared to nothing but a small smile that didn't reach the top of the basin, then the coals went entirely dark. Wahyu and his apprentice stared at the flameless pit. The first to break their trance was the redheaded boy, who looked to Wahyu miserably, repeating the single word he'd said all night, "Wahyu—"

The Augur cleared his throat and straightened his posture before he turned back aground. "Sarasin, Wahyu. Legion Two. Augur. Child of Apollo. Ceremony concluded."

     The senate hearing was lasting longer than expected. Jasmine and Elvira sat in the corner, uninterested in anything the senate had to say. Who were they to defy the gods choice? So four demigods was technically against the constitution and considered a bad omen... whatever. The gods didn't give a shit about the constitution and deemed it to be four, so it was gonna be four. That seemed pretty clear to the two of them.

     Elvira rolled her eyes at Felix and his pity party. He looked so sad sitting alone, and if the sadness was due to the quest she'd consider feeling bad, but no. The sadness was due to not being able to sit in on the senate hearing. He was considered biased now that he was on the quest, so his input in the hearing would be wiped from the record.

     Wahyu didn't seem to care at all. At least from the outside he didn't. Inside, he felt all his nerves standing on edge. He felt dread consuming him and drowning him—not for himself, but for Hugo. The poor boy had only just turned thirteen, found he had the gift of Apollo, and lost his sister— all in a little over a week. Hugo probably thought nothing worse could happen than reading his own sister's name in the fire, yet now he had to step up as Augur of New Rome when he didn't know he was prophetic before this damned Quest. The poor boys life was about to take a drastic change, as if it hadn't already.

     The four demigods were brought back to reality by the creak of the door. Elvira leaned forward from where she'd been slouching. She hadn't expected Nyla to come and visit her before they were sent to bed and sent away.

But then she went over to Felix. Right. Felix. Her second. They were centurions together. A pair. She'd come to see him. Right.

"So do you think we're gonna die?" Jasmine asked, leaning upside down off a sofa from the seventies. They'd stuck them in one of the unused rooms in the court room while the senators met. All the unused rooms had been filled with the belongings of lost or dead demigods. Occasionally there was a yard sail or something similar. Mainly the university kids bought stuff, but also newlyweds.

"Me?" Elvira said, eyebrows raised. "Probably. I'm a living omen of death. But you? Aren't you like... a walking luck charm? How are you gonna die?"

"I'm not so lucky right now, am I?" Jasmine asked sarcastically.

"True," Elvira said, closing her eyes. It had been a long day, and an even longer night waiting around for a useless verdict. "Not even sure how you got picked for the quest."

Jasmine huffed dramatically, falling farther down the couch until the top of her head touched the floor. Everything looked very confusing upside down. The door opened the right but wrong way and people walked on the ceiling. Feet were bigger than heads and faces took a long time to distinguish. "Quest. Campaign. Death sentence. What's the difference really?"

     Elvira snorted from where she was slumped, eyes closed tight.

     "Who's that?" Jasmine asked, watching as a figure walked across the room.

"I don't know Jasmine."

"You can call me Jaz, ya know. Since we're in this for the long run. Or whatever's left of the run. Oh, it's Nyla."

"What!" Elvira sat up quickly, nearly flipping out of the old recliner.

"Maybe there's a verdict."

     "Yeah maybe," Elvira mumbled. Nyla was definitely walking straight towards them. She sat down on a small stool with wobbly legs.

"The senate's decided that all four of you will take on the quest," Nyla said.

"Shocker," Jaz said, heaving herself upright. "Can I go to sleep now?"

Nyla's eyes widened slightly, but she nodded her approval. "New Rome will see you off in the morning."

"Lucky us," Jaz muttered as she walked away. She opened the door and used her foot to kick it fully open, leaving them all for her bed. Seeing she'd left, Wahyu stood and followed.

"How are you feeling?" Nyla asked, her small smile on her face. Not many knew the side of Nyla that was empathetic, they only saw her as their unyielding leader. Elvira wasn't sure which version she needed right now.

     "Just been thinking a lot," Elvira said.

     "About?" Nyla asked.

     Elvira wasn't sure if she should ask, but given the circumstances, it wasn't likely she was going to get another chance. "Why am I first cohort?"

     The question took Nyla by surprise. She turned and watched as Felix left the room, leaving them alone. "You're—"

     "Don't tell me I'm a good fighter. I'm alright, but I'm not the best. Be honest, is it because I'm a child of Pluto. Was it Hazel?"

    "Let's walk and talk, shall we? It's getting late and you'll need your energy."

    They stood and made their way from the court house, traversing away from the village and back to the barracks. The village was sleeping and the stars were awake. A waning gibbous was high in the sky, lightly illuminating their path. They walked two thirds of the way there before Elvira dared to break the silence.

"So?" Elvira prodded.

Nyla took a deep breath. "You are a very powerful demigod, Elv—"

     "I don't need compliments, Nyla. I need to know if I'm good enough for this quest."

     "And you think a cohort defines that?" Nyla asked humorously, an unknown tone of hers. "Plenty of other legionnaires from different cohorts have been chosen. Veterans have been chosen. The—"

     "And look where that got them Nyla." Elvira took a breath to settle her nerves. She hadn't meant to snap like that. "I don't care about the cohorts. I care about whether I'm in this cohort because I'm supposed to be, or because my sister told you to put me here."

"Hazel—"

"Endorsed you when she was stepping down," Elvira interjected. "I'm not a lost cause—"

     "—Of course you aren't—"

     "—I can connect the dots of you becoming Praetor and my sudden rise to cohort one."

     "Does it really matter why it happened?" Nyla snapped. "You deserve it. You are a skilled fighter, an intuitive strategist, and you actually give a shit. That's why you were picked for this quest. The rest of the cohorts combined couldn't amount to who you are, Vira. They'd all set out in the name of returning a hero, but you—that's not you."

     Elvira kicked at a stone on the path. "You make me seem a like a real fucking angel."

     "Maybe you are, Ames," Nyla said. Elvira felt like she'd swallowed a frog. "Now get some sleep. That's an order."

Everyone was sleeping soundly inside the barrack of the first cohort. Their worries ended at the ceremony, whereas Elvira and her new companions' had only just begun.

Elvira's bunk was just as it always was, except the new addition of a helmet. One that wasn't hers. She grabbed it by the red crista and ran out of the bunk, trying to catch up to Nyla as she made her way to her destination.

"Wait!" Elvira yelled, grabbing hold of Nylas arm as she reached the Praetor quarter's steps. "I forgot to give this back."

     Nyla put a hand on the helm and pushed it back towards Elvira's chest. "Keep it. You've earned it."

     "I'm not anything close to Praetor," Elvira laughed sadly. "You'll need it to keep together  training."

"You'll need it to lead," Nyla said solemnly.

     "I'm not a leader."

     "You were chosen first, Ames. You know the rules."

     "Yeah, well there's four of us instead of three. I think the rules have kinda flown out the window."

     "Well, someone has to lead."

     "Good thing we have Felix," Elvira said, pushing the helmet back towards Nyla.

     "As much as Felix has grown on me," Nyla began, "He can't lead this quest. He gets things done when it counts, but deep inside he's a goofball. There's a lot expected of him here, being a son of Jupiter and trying to live up to what Jason left behind. He's rose to that challenge the best he could, but out there those expectations go away— replaced with the new expectation to succeed. I don't know what you all will face, and whoever's leading needs to take this seriously."

     "Well Wahyu fits that description better than I do," Elvira told her, trying her best to deflect the responsibility.

     "Wahyu has enough on his shoulders."

     "Then Jasmine. She literally has luck on her side. She'd be a great leader—"

     "Vira," Nyla interrupted in that tone that demanded respect. "You are the leader. Let the quest be diplomatic if you want, but remember that you were chosen first. Usually there's three candidates, and you can work together. Relatively. But you have four. The votes might be split. When it comes to a decision, you have to make it."

     "But I don't—"

     "We all do things we don't want to. We all have to face things we don't know the right answer to. I do it every day. Do you know what really defines a Praetor?"

      Elvira didn't know if the question was rhetorical, so she just shook her head.

     "A Praetor listens, then makes the hard decisions. They make those decisions based on what they know, not their own or others opinions. Most importantly, they aren't afraid to be wrong or to take blame."

      "Well, I take blame for everything," Elvira mumbled.

     "I was more so hoping you'd focus on your listening attribute, but I guess you're good at that too."

     "Hey," Elvira drawled out.

     "You're going to lead this quest, Elvira," Nyla said softly, pushing the helmet flush against her chest. "You're going to make the hard decisions, but you're going to survive. And when you're doubting yourself, you can look at this helmet and remember someone believes in you."

Elvira wasn't sure how to feel. Her stomach was sinking despite hearing Nyla say what she'd always wanted to hear.

"Now get some sleep," Nyla said. "You already disobeyed the first order. You're lucky you're released tomorrow or I'd be making you run doubles on the fields tomorrow."

Elvira chuckled lightly. "Alright. I'm going."

"Goodnight, Ames. If I don't see you, safe travels."

"Thanks, Nyla."

     Elvira trudged her way along the cobblestone street, her fingers dancing through the red threads of the crest. Her mind should have been whirring the whole way back to the barrack, but instead she found it unsettlingly quiet. When she got back she climbed up into her bunk, careful to not wake her bunk mate, then hung the helmet from the top post.

Tiredness consumed her body the moment her head hit the pillow. All of her limbs relaxed, though she hadn't realized how tense she had been. Elvira didn't remember falling asleep, but she remembered her dream.

It was a nightmare. Two pairs of brown eyes were staring into her soul. It was also a terrible angle.

"What am I supposed to say?"

     "I don't know," another voice said. "Whatever you're supposed to say."

     "Hello? Hellooooo. Is it working?" The girl's eyes was suddenly the only thing Elvira could see and a pinging noise erupted in her temple.

     "I'd say you have about 20 more seconds of recording. Then whatever you've said will appear in... well whoever's supposed to get this's dreams."

     "What?" the girl exclaimed. "You didn't say it recorded. Can I redo it?"

"No."

"Shit. I mean. That's not what I meant." The girl took a deep sigh. "My names— I'm Lenore. That's irrelevant."

     "I'd maybe not talk that close to it, either," the deep voice suggested. "You're probably scaring whoever this is going to."

     "They can see me?" Lenore gawked, moving further away so Elvira could see more of what lurked behind the girl. There were other kids in a wooded area with strange looking houses. As the girl's mouth hung open Elvira swore she saw someone she knew walk in the distance.

"Ten more seconds."

"Uhhhh. Well, my first thought is to try and find any children of the seven that we can find. They might be able to give us some more information on where to look for the seven."

"Less than 5 seconds."

"And-then-meet-somewhere-in-the-middle-like-Lebanon-or-Topeka-so-we—"

Elvira awoke in a sudden panic. Everyone around her seemed to be stirring, waking before the bell.

"What the hell," she muttered.

『••✎••』

ωเɳเ รρεαҡร

sorry this is being updates so damn slow... been VERY busy. I know things are a bit on the darker side now but it's gonna get lighter soon!

word count: 5599