Once the ground began to rise below her
Feet, she felt comfy to take off her hood
And walked confidently into the Dauntless
Mountains. It used to be known how humans would
Rather die than enter the Dauntless, said to
Be cursed by means of the gods. Filled with stacks of
Treacherous, rocky mountains, mirroring one
Another to the point of sending one walking
In circles, it used to be recognised to have magic still
Lingering deep in its roots. But for someone
Who grew up in these mountains, she knew
Exactly the place to go and the dangers to look
Out for.
Checking for not likely followers or straggling
Members of her family, she entered a hidden
Cave draped with curtains of yellow flowered
Vines. A darkish and dry tunnel scaled through
The mountains where she let her feet guide
Her under acquainted archways and turns until
She spotted mild ahead.
Mageia halted and gave a short whistle
Sequence. She waited, ears straining for
The callback signal to enter. An owl's hoot
Responded. She smirked and continued
Towards the give up of the tunnel to a gated entry
And entered her domestic with a tacky smile.
"Hala, Dean," she said, sensing he was once nearby.
Indeed, the 17-year-old younger man gave a
Low snort from his perch on a boulder. He
Flapped his auburn hair out of his green eyes
Exposing a pink birthmark trailing the right
Side of his face like a everlasting blush. He
Lowered his spear and the three elders with
Him did the same.
"Lady Mageia, fine day?"
"It was indeed a fine day," she said, throwing
To him the silver timepiece she stole from the
Man she spooked. He caught it and grinned at
Its tricky designs.
She heard him scramble off the boulder and
Fall on her trail.
"Yer returned early," he stated in the unknown
Foreign accent she'd grown accustomed to.
Uh oh, she thought, a knot forming in her
Throat.
"Yeah, I know."
"Geia... Did'ju get spotted?" he stated with a
Hard pressure in his voice.
"Uh..." she said, already feeling her friend's
Face twist hard.
"Wait," he said, stepping in front of her with a
Hand raised. "Yeh got spotted, didn't yuh?"
"Uh...Yeah," she said with a shrug, slipping
Around him. She bit challenging into her backside lip
Knowing precisely where this dialog was
Heading.
Dean Unknown gawked, unable to get a
Single phrase out. He followed her beneath the
Drape of colorful vines into the heart of the
Encampment. A region she has called home
For seven years. Huts made of nature's debris
Covered with stolen or handmade blankets
Sat scattered about. Clothing hung along
Vines, ropes, and tree branches, drying under
The midday day sun. Handmade decorations
And art work from the young people dangled in the
Breeze across the pathway and anywhere
Needing the colour of life.
The smell of venison and vegetables lingered
In the air making her belly grumble. She
Unlatched her cloak and exited the pathway
Into a circular clearing. A large firepit sat at
The core with a lit flame within. Strange
Children ran around enjoying tag and when they
Saw her, they cheered, ran to her, and clung
Onto her waist.
"Hala, younger ones," she chuckled.
"Hala! What did you carry us this time?" a boy
Said, peering up at her with crooked eyes.
"Hopefully, ample valuables to convey in more
Delicious sweets," she said, scuffing his hair.
They cheered with pleasure and ran off careless of their a number deformities and illnesses.
"This is yer first spotting in what? Five
Months?" Dean picked up the troublesome
Topic and Mageia gave an irritable sigh. "What
Happened?"
"I'll give my report all through the meeting," she
Said.
She persisted across the Pit into a smaller
Trail main to greater huts. The biggest one
Sat in the direction of the cease of the trail, nearly in the
Shape of a cottage, with a window and a door
Made of timber planks. This one belonged to
Her.
"This is terrible, Geia," he said, hand clawing
Into his hair. "Yer the Chief of the Lost Ones.
Yer the position model fer everyone."
"I be aware of Dean," she grumbled untying the sack
Of stolen items from her waist and plopping it
Into the Dean's hands.
"Yeh do not act like it," he said, eyes wide
And firm. Her first-rate pal in the entire world
Had misplaced his feel of humor. And she knew
Why however facing the truth would bring the
Waterfalls.
"But I'm fine, Dean. I made it out of the
Grounds with my head still on my shoulders."
The indignant boy's face flushed purple and the
Muscles in his palms flexed. She averted her
Eyes to the floor and tapped her boot into the stones. Guilt and regret washed its way
Into her soul. Her bottom lip curled between
Her teeth, and she fumbled with the buttons
On her cloak.
Here comes the lecture.
"Yeah, thank the gods yer head is still
There," he said, voice elevating which only
Strengthened his accent. "I instructed yuh the other
Day y'shouldn't be a Collect'r. Yuh have purple
Eyes and there's no longer tons yuh can do to
Conceal 'em. If yuh get caught what're we
Supposed to do? It's too unstable for yuh to be out
There, but you insist. There're different things you
Can do round here, like looking or teaching
Combat to the children."
"But you be aware of staying inside this woodland will
Drive me insane," she said. "Slipping through
The cities is where I feel free."
"Yer now not a slave, yer now not in the Dungeons or
The Runes with shackles on yuh wrists and
Feet and guys barkin' crap at yuh. You are free,
Geia!" He then became in the direction of the bushes and
Shouted, "We are free!"
"Dean!"
She sighed and scrunched her nose, knowing
He was right. But it felt suitable to steal from the
Fairs. But she had a family. They had a family.
One they created over their eight years of
Scavenging the cities to survive. He was once her
Strength when hers failed, and vice versa, and
She knew he cared a million moons for her.
He jabbed a finger in her face, and she
Slapped it away. "The cities name yuh the Purple
Thief because yuh stand out."
"I am rapid on my feet-,"
"It would not rely when the archers pop from
The ground," he said, gesturing with his hands.
"Dean!"
"Don't be ungrateful. Yuh have a household here
That loves yuh. I love you," he said through
Clenched teeth, poking himself in the chest.
The again of Mageia's throat stung suddenly
And she sucked in the sparkling air to clear it up.
She grabbed onto his shoulders and peered
Into his face. His stern inexperienced eyes like the
Fresh grass of spring wavered with damage and
Disappointment. She in no way wanted to make
Him upset or worried.
"Dean. I hear you. I am so sorry. It was once an
Accident."
"I cannot lose you, Geia," he said but this time
Low and heavy to her heart.
She wrapped her arms about his neck and
Pulled him in for a hug. His embody about
Her waist tightened and she sucked in the
Scent of leaves on his skin.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Dean sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Now let me go. I need to return to my post."
Mageia laughed and shoved him away. He
Indicated the sack in his hand. His cheeks
Deepened pink, and his chest puffed up.
"I'll take these to the series basket," he
Said.
"I'm going to freshen up and do my rounds
Of the perimeter," she said, backing up to the
Door.
"I'll let yuh know when everyone's back for the
Meeting," Dean said, eyes jumping from the
Ground to her face.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay," he repeated and grew to become away stiff
And awkward. She watched him stroll away,
Scratching the again of his neck.
Mageia wished she should provide Dean the
World. He deserved it. Everyone in her family
Deserved greater than snoozing in huts and
Depending on stolen valuables for meals and
Necessities. But the world they lived in was
Unfair. And any slave and Strange in the
Kingdom would die simply to have the freedom
They had.
Heart now heavy with reality, she entered her
Hut, scented with bundles of lavenders tied to
The walls. The lovely red flower not only
Reminded her of her eyes, however they were her
Mother's favorite. It brought alleviation to her soul to believe her mother watched over her
Every day.
She took off the cloak and her sweaty tunic
Into a basket of soiled clothing. Everyone
Was responsible for their very own laundry, so
She noted to do it sometime tomorrow.
The breeze from the window cooled her
Hot dark-brown skin as she peered at her
Reflection in a replicate with copper trims.
Stolen, of course. She constant her lengthy hair of
Tight curls into a ponytail, solely to enable her
Fingers to slide down the returned of her neck to
Her birthmark.
Plumpy and odd, in the shape of a hexagon
With a diamond in its center, the birthmark
Could be wrong as a company by way of warm iron,
But her parents instructed her she was born with
It. Sometimes she determined it hard to believe
And figured her mother and father did not favor to openly
Admit they branded their very own baby. Either
Way, her father had one too, but his had
Eventually flattened as he grew older. Though
They made her promise not to show or tell
Anyone, they by no means got the possibility to give
Their reasons and the truth. It did bother her
At one point, however now it was once just a reminder
Of where she never wanted to stop up again.
Caged.