post 17

Honey barked, and Cassia tried to shush her. But it was too late. Atropos dug his heels in and stopped, stopping Cassia as well. A warm current brushed over her head and she gasped. A shaggy figure rose from in front of them in the road. Flickers of green rippled along its fur, like the play of lighting on metal. The werewolf stood upright on its clawed back legs, but it hunched over, baring abnormally long canines that gleamed grotesquely in the unnatural green light. The shoulders and torso of the wolf were those of a man’s though his arms were much longer than usual, since they helped in the creature’s lope. Its eyes were slanted and sharp over a flat nose and wide, slack mouth. Its ears were flat and pointed against his head, like and elf’s, but hairy.

“What do you want?” demanded Atropos.

Cassia blinked at him. Atropos should know exactly what they wanted – the werewolves wanted them dead, so that they could eat their flesh.

It growled, a low, grating sound at the back of its throat. Low yips sounded from various points encircling Atropos and Cassia. She glimpsed a movement to her right, but she did not dare to move. Cassia squeezed her eyes shut and held Honey close to her. She had heard that death by werewolf mauling was extremely painful – but she hoped that they were merely legends – no one survived a werewolf attack.

“I don’t understand,” Atropos was murmuring, “How did they catch up so fast.”

“There are many things you don’t understand, elf.” A hooded mage stepped into the ring. A hand reached up and pushed back the hood.

Atropos stared, “Diamantia?”

Cassia gaped at the figure, so much like her, yet not.

The girl laughed and pitched her voice higher, “try again, Atropos.” Cassia shivered. The voice was exactly like…

“Cass…ia?” Atropos glanced at her, right next to him, and blinked back and forth between her and the hooded girl, who blinked back coyly. He shook himself free from his daze. “What are you?” he demanded fiercely.

A laugh tinkled from the girl’s lips, and she pulled up the hood so that her face was in shadow again. “Haven’t you guessed? I am the Eirdna, mage of all mages. I am what you care for most, I am what you despise and fear above all else.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” declared Atropos.

The voice sighed through the hood. “Of course not. Tempest is so paranoid about whom he tells about me. I am his greatest weapon, after all. I torture his victims in their final moments of life, and they will never be seen on the face of the earth.”
Cassia looked at her in horror. In her hands, where she had not noticed before, Eirdna held a green sphere. Eirdna held up the ball. “You wondered how the werewolves caught you so quickly. You were right to be curious. Werewolves cannot run.” She laughed scornfully. “And my werewolves cannot speak, either, nor do anything that displeases me.” The ball glimmered dully under the green. “This is the source of my control,” she said, rolling the sphere between her fingers. It fit neatly into her palm, and was weighty, judging by the way he held it. She glanced up suddenly, at Atropos, and from the depths of her hood her eyes flashed with a green light. The ball glowed with sudden energy.

“What is it?” Atropos stared at it, fascinated.

“You would not have heard of it,” Eirdna said, smiling indulgently. “Look at the werewolves. Look closely. What is missing?”

Cassia looked. The closest one was barely five feet away. His unwrinkled face looked young, like Thad. Cassia wondered how the person had been so unfortunately converted. The nose was short and muddied, the eyebrows had grown upward, to meet the hair drifting down from the scalp. And his eyes? A shiver ran through her. There was only one. The left socket was stuffed with dirt.

“Their left eyes,” Eirdna said, smiling. “That is how you control werewolves. It is a complex formula, but what you have when you are finished,” she sighed, “is unimaginable power.”

“It is never wise to tell your enemy your strategies,” remarked Atropos with a grimace, looking for a way out.

Eirdna followed his eyes. “You will not find any openings, believe me. Which is why I can well afford to tell you everything. You will not live past the next ten minutes.” Her eyes glittered. “So you will take these secrets to the grave.” Eirdna raised her arms, and the werewolves tensed to spring.

Atropos glanced at Cassia. He looked down in defeat. Cassia closed her eyes and wondered what it would be like to die.

Then there was a screech. Cassia opened her eyes again. The green that hummed in the air.

The werewolves and Eirdna had collapsed to the floor. The hand which had held the green orb lay outstretched. The orb was pierced like bead on a slender, feathered arrow. The point of the arrow was embedded in Eirdna’s throat.

A rustle from the undergrowth snapped Atropos and Cassia into alertness. Atropos drew his sword as a small figure emerged. The figure was a short girl, with plump fingers which clutched a bow almost as tall as her. Messy red bangs partially obscured lazy, mischievous eyes. Her grin revealed sharp, white teeth. “You’re alright, aren’t you?” The girl asked with a slight lisp.

Atropos narrowed his eyes slightly, still wary. “We are fine, but we would have been torn to bits had you waited a while longer.”

The grin grew wider as the girl shrugged and brushed off the dirt from her brown dress, belted at the waist. “Details. You’re alright now.”

Atropos rolled his eyes.

Cassia blinked slowly. “You’re a goblin!”

The girl made a gesture with her hands, flicking her palm up, curling her fingers slightly. “I am very much a goblin. You are a human. And you,” she repeated the gesture to Atropos, “are and elf.”

“How very observant of you,” growled Atropos.

The goblin girl quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Cassia looked around. The mist had receded slightly, probably because of Eirdna’s death, but the light was still dim, and the bodies that ringed them looked like mere lumps in the earth. She counted the werewolves. There were eleven. Honey shivered suddenly. She looked down to see Honey’s fur standing on end. Cassia frowned. The threat was over. Was the goblin girl untrustworthy? She looked at her, still standing in front of them, one long bare foot over the other. She was relaxed, resting her chin on her hand and the hand on the top of her curled bow. An arrow was clasped lazily in her free hand, and the goblin girl regarded the two of them through lidded eyes.

A movement caught Cassia’s eye. The mound behind the goblin was rising slightly. So slowly that Cassia would not have noticed it if Honey had not caused her to be on supercharged alert. She glanced at Atropos. He was scowling at the ground, his jaw working, his eyebrows knitted in thought. She returned her gaze to the goblin, and tensed. The werewolf was rising quickly now, one eye opened wide, nostrils flared. He was no longer controlled by Eirdna, but that made the situation worse, not better – he was acting on pure, unbridling bloodlust. Honey shifted and Cassia felt the dagger that Archia had given her press against her side. In one swift motion – later she was unsure of how she managed to retrieve the dagger without entangling the scabbard in her clothing – she hurled it at the mass of fur.

The goblin girl’s eyes widened slightly as the dagger hurled towards her, but she did not move as it swept past her and embedded hilt-deep in the chest of the werewolf. A budding growl died into a whine. Cassia froze, weak with relief. The goblin girl grinned, slower than before, but more sincere. She cocked her head slightly. “Well, you aren’t as slow with a weapon as you are with words, at least.” She repeated her hand gesture, but this time bowed her head slightly over her open palm. “A-ril, human girl.” She straightened. “Follow me.” And with that she turned and began to skip lightly up the road.

post 16

Cassia felt a shiver run through her at Atropos’s tone. He had been dry and abrasive during their trip to the Crossroads and back, but this was different. Atropos’s voice was flat and lacked any warmth, even betraying real anger at her father. “I thought you and my father were friends. I thought you two grew up together,” Cassia said shortly.

“We did, though he was many years older than I.” Atropos stated mutedly. “And we were.”

“Until when?” Cassia demanded. “Until a few months ago, when he arrived at Laddinley, and the entire scandal with Diamantia blew up?” Atropos’s eyebrows knitted at the name. “Shouldn’t you have known?” Cassia continued in a heated whisper, “when you saw me? Don’t we look the same, anyways?”

“Almost the same,” Atropos corrected her.

“Why did you pick now to antagonize him, then? Why not twenty years ago, when Diamantia was born?”

Atropos was silent. Cassia, irritated, continued running alongside Atropos easily. After months of training, months of strict, disciplined practice, she was in the best shape of her life. Instead of gasping loudly and painfully, as she had the very first run with Step, she could now keep the rhythm of her steps the same. They were also indiscernible. The sound of their leather shoes on the dirt road was akin to dry leaves skittering across the same path. They were making sure that only thing that guided the werewolf would be scent, which would make its travel tedious and tentative.

After about and hour, the scenery had not changed. Cassia had not expected it to; the forest ran for many miles along the southern road. It would be a while before the forest thinned to shrubs, then to a dry plain, before the earth rose to form the cluster of mountains that housed the goblin city of Keshia.

“So,” Cassia ventured after the minutes began to become uncomfortable. “What exactly is the plan?”

“First we go south,” Atropos said, voice dry again. “Traveling as we are, we should be able to lure the werewolf away from Laddinley, yet stay so that we are far ahead. We’ll pass Keshia, which should detour the werewolf. It will blunder through. Perhaps the Keshian militia will even take care of the werewolf for us, and save us from having to face it ourselves.”

Cassia frowned. “Do you really believe that?”

Atropos let out a breath. “No. Werewolves rarely are distracted from their query, especially when they are being paid, and I have no doubt that Tempest paid it well. But it is something to hope for, because the whole of Keshia is much, much better equipped than we are, and thus they stand a much greater chance of slaying the werewolf.”

They continued running. “But…” Cassia tried to remember her lessons, which seemed decades ago. “Isn’t Keshia a township?”

“Yes.”

“Is that not a concern?” Cassia asked sarcastically.

Atropos pressed his lips together, so that the faint moon cast a dark shadow on his chin. “It is a concern that we must ignore.”

“Can we not warn the people, at least?”

“No. The people of Keshia would not be happy to know that they face a werewolf. They may simply turn us to it.”

“So you will let them be surprised by one?”

“Their defenses are well equipped,” Atropos said shortly. “And they are just goblins, after all. In times such as these, our kind must come first. It is the only way.”

Our kind being what? Cassia wondered. Humans or elves?

Atropos slowed into a brisk walk. “I think we can break for dinner,” he whispered. “The werewolf must be at least two hours behind us.”

Cassia let Honey out of the sling. She trotted happily, her breath coming in soft whoofs. Atropos brought out a large chunk of bread and broke it in half, handing one portion to Cassia.

Cassia bit into the soft crust, which was still faintly warm. The scent of butter and yeast filled her nose, blocking out the earthy scents of the night forest with images of home. Cassia thought of warmth, warmth unhindered by arching boughs that imprisoned as well as protected. A cold breeze snaked through Whispering footsteps scrambled up a nearby tree.

Then a thud resounded in the forest.

Cassia lunged down and replaced Honey in the sling, but Honey did not complain. She huddled at the bottom of the pouch and shivered. “What was that?” Cassia whispered.
Atropos shook his head. He sped up, and Cassia matched his pace. They were running again. The terrible bay rebounded against the moon, now full and uncovered by the dark fog. Before it faded it was picked up by answering voices. The chorus of howls rose into the air.

Atropos and Cassia exchanged alarmed glances – it was not a single werewolf chasing them; it was a pack.

The rest of the night was spent in hurried, blind panic. When Cassia thought back to those moments her memories were unclear, consisting of flashes of movement, the sensation of being whipped across the face by a stray branch hanging over the side of the road, stinging pain, ragged breaths of Atropos beside her, the thudding, warm weight of Honey, who she clutched against her side, and the occasional bays that kept echoing closer and closer, like thunder that cuts across the quiet of a storm. Every time they called, Cassia forced herself forward and prayed that they would lose their trail, fade away.

But werewolves were notorious good trackers, and neither she nor Atropos were making any attempt to hide their trail. Speed was their friend, and they were sprinting through the wild night.

“How much longer?” Cassia gasped, squinting but failing to read a faded road sign.
Atropos strained his sharper eyes, “two miles. Almost there.” His voice was hoarse and extremely strained. “Look.”

Cassia raised her head and peered through the mist that had begun to rise nearly an hour ago. Dull prinpicks of light, which she had thought were the obscured stars, now shone brighter. She realized that they were too low to be part of the night sky. Keshia. “What happens? When – we get there?”

Atropos looked weary, “Run – through town – plan – holds.”

Cassia sighed, regretting it immediately as the breath whooshed out of her lungs. She quickly sucked in air, making a sound similar to a fish. Atropos glanced over, and exchanged a look with her. Then he quickly turned his attention inward, steeling himself for the last two miles. Cassia concentrated on the dots of light in the distance, feeling the earth pound against her feet with each step, feeling her ears ring in an answer.

A hair-chilling howl rose from somewhere in the trees. Cassia’s heart leapt against its already jagged cadence. Honey whimpered in response. A thin leaf blade whipped against Cassia’ raw cheek. Her eyes burned. They zoomed past another road marker. Cassia did not need to read it to know what it said.

Closer to the mountains, the fog had thickened, but the cold road beneath and the dim lights ahead were enough to guide them. Cassia opened her mouth to breathe again and another leaf smacked against her face. She spat out a leaf, recognizing the bitter taste of the alia berry.

Its sharp tang burned in her mouth, but she kept going; the berry wasn’t poisonous, and they were so close…

Another howl, much, much close than the previous ones, was answered by half a dozen, the same distance away. Cassia exchanged a panicked look with Atropos. They knew where they were. Rustles could be heard from behind.

“Don’t – under – stand.” Atropos gasped. “They – can’t – run!”

The road tapered out to form two lanes.

Post 15

Cassia bowed before the Eldest, unflinching as he tapped her sword to each her shoulders.

It had been weeks and weeks since she had come to Laddinley, but they seemed like mere hours to the girl who never rested, never seemed to have a moment of hesitation. She rose in the morning, did some quiet stretching to warm her body, and to not wake her sister. Honey often slept through these meetings, preferring playing with Padrig to watching her owner fight. Then she was off, swinging through the city like she was one of the Elves.

Then she began her training with Step. At first it had been simple, childish exercises, such as shooting an arrow into a dummy or throwing her dagger into one of the trees. Then it moved to endurance training. Running all around the city branches, climbing vines to get to a lookout post, jumping up and up and up trees to strengthen her leg muscles. Finally she began really training: using her sword against Elvin adversaries, keeping lookout with the Brotherhood, occasionally shooting at kyrees or harpies came too close.

One day, Step told her that her father had talked to the Elders of the city.

“He wants to make you an honorary Brother.” He explained as they took their daily walk around the city.

“Is that even possible?” She asked, trying to read his face. “I’m not even a boy, let alone an Elf.”

“He’s pushing for it. And as a member of the Brotherhood himself-”

“What?”

“He joined when he was younger. I would assume you would know that.” Step smiled.
For an Elf, he had quite a sense of humor. “As I was saying, as a Brother himself, he has a say in the matter. And with Atropos behind it as well…It just might happen.”

And here she was, now. Accepting the ear piercing without screaming, just as any male Elf would do. There was sparse applause from the small audience. Her family was present, though her father was standing next to the Eldest. Atropos and Step were there as well, with the rest of the Brotherhood. Her brothers, now.

Honey barked in joy from her position next to Cassia. Cassia couldn’t help but smile at the dog, her eyes shimmering like she was a puppy.

It seemed, for the time, that things were right. Here was where she belonged.


That night, when the aether lights had been relieved of their duty, there was a low howl in the distance. At first Cassia didn’t hear it, but then suddenly Honey was up, barking and howling, growling and pacing next to Cassia’s bed.

There was another howl, this one higher, and closer. The werewolf was somewhere in the forest.

The light flickered on in her room. Still half asleep, Cassia could barely see her mother in the light.

“Get up and get dressed.” Her mother whispered. “Travel clothing, wear this over it.” Something heavy landed on the foot of her bed. Cassia struggled in the lighting to find it. The smooth texture told her what it was. A leather tunic, just her size.

When she went out into the entry hall, Honey in pursuit, her father and mother were talking in low voices to the Eldest, who Cassia recognized from the events of the day before. He had two of the Brotherhood with him, armed as if for combat. Atropos was with them, standing with his bow and quiver, and sword on his belt. A pack was on his back, he was ready for travel.

“Cassia.” Her father said, holding up his hand to beckon that she join them. Honey took to pacing around the group, protecting them. Mistress Graystone had Cassia’s weapons: her sword, her dagger, her bow and quiver. Cassia put them on without question, already knowing the direction of events.

“Brother Cassia,” the Eldest creaked, using her full title, “the werewolf has found the three of you again.” Cassia nodded. Atropos seemed to know this as well. “For the safety of the city, you must leave. Atropos has offered to slay the beast, and with your help, I believe it could be accomplished.”

“We’d have to stay for from the city, from any city, to keep the people safe.” Atropos continued, his voice unfeeling. “We’d eventually find him, and kill him.”

“Of course.” Cassia said. Her mother was now placing a prepared pack on her shoulders. She kissed her cheek gently, in farewell. Cassia picked up Honey and placed her in her familiar pouch to be safe. “We must leave now?”

Atropos nodded. “Immediately.”

They stole from the city quietly, not even talking as they descended the great tree that was the gateway. This time Cassia was as fast as Atropos, almost beating him as her feet landed quietly on the forest floor.

“Where are we going?” Another howl rang out from the north.

“South.” Atropos said, quickly making his way away from the tree.

“We’ll pass Keshia.”

“Yes, we will.”

“Will we stop there?”

“Of course not. It would be too dangerous.”

“Atropos?”

“What?” He asked, turning to glare at her briefly. She realized his unhappiness. He had to leave Diamantina, and now it was as if she was following him. Only it was not his love, but an illusion of her.

“Do you think Tempest sent the wolf?”

“Yes. And we’ve done the worst we could have; we led him to your father. Maybe we can pull him away, but if we can’t…”

“My father won’t let anything happen to him.”

“He already has.”

Just a Randomly Inspired Hello

Ah. It's so refreshing to actually have an audience while writing an "Address the Audience" post.

So, I'd just like to officially welcome our two followers to our page! Hello! Please, sit down, enjoy our posts.

I think we're going to transition to chapter three, which is an improvement from our last story/attempt. [You know, the one about the school kids and the crispy monster.]

Just for the record, we really have no idea what we're doing. Well, maybe Crane does. Perhaps she's secretly planned out the backstory of each of the protagonists, plus who they end up with, and how they die. When it's my turn to write, I just open up a blank document and stare at it. Then I type a sentence and do my homework. And then Crane yells at me because I didn't write. I'm like, "I will! After I finish my homework!" Except I never really finish my homework, because there are always a few ongoing assignments. This goes on until saturday or sunday when I feel guilty for not writing all week and I refuse to go to bed until I post. I congradulate myself for being such a good writing buddy, until Crane writes her post in thirty minutes and I'm back to where I started.

I will never understand how that bird writes so fast.[quickly?]

Oops. There I go, rambling again.

But really, welcome. I hope that you-all enjoy what we've written and what we will write. And if you're ever bored or just feeling too lazy to want to accomplish anything, [don't worry, I feel that way all the time] feel free to come back, read our old posts. Who knows, maybe we'll even have something interesting.

~Beads

post 14

“Hello,” Archia said stiffly to their half sister.

“Hello, Archia – oh, Pixies” Diamantia said softly as she noticed Cassia and looked her up and down.

Honey let out a throaty bark halfway between a growl and a laugh. Diamantia smiled. “You must be Cassia.”

“You – you must be Diamantia.” Cassia gulped. Diamantia’s eyes narrowed slightly as hers did when she was hiding a laugh.

“Yes, I –”

“What are you doing here?” Archia demanded sharply. Her face had gone pale and taut, as if she knew exactly why Diamantia was here, but she wanted to give her trouble in spite of Diamantia’s purpose.

Diamantia gave Archia a cool, level glance, and turned to address Cassia. “Atropos wants me to take you to the flats.”

“Flats?” Cassia echoed.

“Our –”

“Training grounds,” Archia finished. “Have my mother and father approved?”

“Yes.” Diamantia finished. Her eyebrows knitted together slightly as she stared Archia down. Archia glared back, not hiding any of her dislike.

Honey whined, tugging at the edge of Diamantia’s spring green dress with her teeth and snapping both girls out of their silent battle. Archia studied the floor; Diamantia’s eyes flicked to Cassia’s. “Shall we go?”

Cassia looked at Archia, her hands still trembling. Diamantia strode out, followed by Cassia, followed by Honey.

“Ever since your family has arrived, I have heard much about you, Cassia.” Diamantia said casually as they followed a narrow walkway that wound around close growing trees. Cassia was unable to do anything but stare at her. Diamantia’s – and her – wavy brown hair. Diamantia’s grew in a shimmering veil to her waist, while Cassia’s was cropped just below her shoulders. They had the same, triangular eyes, bladed nose, and crooked mouth. “I thought that perhaps it was all an exaggeration. But I can see now that it was no exaggeration.” Diamantia faced Cassia and smiled. Cassia shivered. They had the same smile – but even on Diamantia’s identical face the smile was alien, as if there was a hidden edge behind the warmth.

They pushed past closely grown branches to enter a wide platform, supported by many trees, and bare to the sun. Elves were blurred in constant motion. Honey burrowed close to Cassia’s ankle. They paused at the edge of the flats, away from the training elves.

“Atropos!” Cassia felt relieved to see a familiar face – one that was not her own.

“Hello again, Cassia.” Atropos looked faintly disconcerted as he took in both Diamantia and Cassia standing side by side. Diamantia stepped away from Cassia to Atropos’s side, her eyes, Cassia’s yet foreign, never leaving her half-sister’s face. There was a moment of silence when Diamantia pulled Atropos’s face towards hers for a kiss. Cassia felt odd, as if there was an invisible line on the wooden platform with she and Honey confronting Atropos and Diamantia.

Atropos smiled at Diamantia warmly, then cleared his throat, avoiding Cassia’s uncomfortable gaze. He turned around and beckoned. An elf stepped forward, seemingly appearing out of the entropic mass of lithe bodies. He was tall, though slightly shorter than Atropos, and he walked forward with controlled footsteps. He flashed Cassia a quick smile and took a casual stance, his narrow golden eyes sweeping over Atropos, Diamantia, Honey, and Cassia. “This is Step.” Atropos placed a hand on Step’s shoulder. “He’ll be in charge of your training.”

Cassia blinked. “What about you?”

Atropos glanced at Diamantia. “The Brotherhood wishes me to do some scouting work…” he said vaguely, “…and I have some business to tend to.” Atropos nodded first to Step and then Cassia. “Train well.” And with that, Atropos took Diamantia’s hand and left.

Cassia looked at Step, who regarded her carefully. “Follow me.” He said simply. He strode off, ignoring the battle cries and the clash of weapons as he crossed the yard. Cassia wondered if Step had simply grown used to it. She flinched as a dagger flew past her ear to thud into a wooden practice dummy. She hurried to catch up to Step.

They entered a low building that Cassia had not noticed until Step opened the door. The walls were as rough and weathered as the surrounding bark. The interior was stacked with various swords, daggers, spears, and arrows. The small space was dimly lit by crystal jars filled with a liquid, with a daub of light suspended in the middle. “Um…Step, what are those?” Cassia asked, glancing at him sidelong.
Step’s narrow eyes flickered to the bobbing light. “Those are aether lights. They don’t need air to burn, so they can be kept in the crystal. Candles are extremely dangerous in Laddinley, since the entire network of trees can burn within minutes.”

“How do you know?”

“It has burned before. Sometimes by enemy hands, sometimes by a careless member of the Brotherhood. Of course, that was long ago, before the location of Laddinley became secret and the Brotherhood discovered aether lights.” He turned away and reached into the shadows, lifting a box of dully glinting weapons. “So I’m told that your household has received training.” Cassia nodded. “Well, those that had already arrived in Laddinley are already being trained; however, you arrived late, due to your errand. You are your father’s child, which makes you a more appealing target, and also, of your siblings, you are most likely to be engaged in combat.” Cassia smiled wanly. Padrig was only five – he could barely lift a dagger, let alone fight with it. Her sister was pregnant, and Thad had never shown a great interest in training, though he was good at it. “Because of all this,” Step continued, “The Brotherhood and Atropos have agreed that I should train you personally.”
Cassia frowned slightly. “Who is everyone else being trained by?”

“The weapons master, the trainer of all the elven children.”

“Then…I hope you do not mind if I ask…” Cassia tried to recall if elves were easily offended. It was probably not wise to insult one inside a weapons storage room.

“Why am I, of all elves, your instructor?” Step raised a cool eyebrow. Cassia nodded. “Because I am the best.” He stated. He peered into the box, and selected a long bow, a cloth quiver, a long sword, and a mace.

Cassia exchanged glances with Honey. “Alright then,” she said softly.

Step looked up. “You have a dagger already, don’t you?”

Cassia started. “How do you know?”

Step pointed to Cassia’s sleeve, where the faint outline of her dagger sheath showed. “A good battle strategist must be observant of all variables.”

Cassia nodded, impressed. “That is what my old training master said.”

Step smiled a second time, the corners of his mouth raising into a quick ‘v’ before dropping into a line. “I’ve selected these weapons for you.” He indicated the small pile. “But first we must train so that you can wield them as well as any soldier. I’m told that you’ve had some training, and you look like you’re no stranger to running, so perhaps this stage of the conditioning won’t take you long.” He stopped and looked at Cassia expectantly.

“So…what shall I do now?” She asked, confused.

Step opened the door. “Start running.”