"You got in a fight."

  Lys's voice came at Launa like a knife. The fighter usually came back unscathed from her street squabbles but one guy's knife had sneaked in to taste the blood in her arm. It looked worse than it was, and every bit worth the worried look on Lys's face.

  "What, you're starting to care about me?"

  Lys moved back, her eyes scanning Launa's face. The red-haired woman couldn't breathe, eager and desperate for Lys's next words.

  "Maybe."

  CHAPTER 4

  LYS

  The sight of Launa in the sunken square crashed Lys's world. Her eyes couldn't focus on anything else. She let her wind slither down the roof top, willing it to mix with the morning breeze. It brushed over the intruder's body, scanning her face, her arms, her hands, her present beating heart.

  Over, and over again.

  Until Launa rose up narrow steps.

  Lys wanted to cry. To throw up. To faint. To scream 'Why are you here?'

  Why are you here?

  In her fantasies, Lys would always run to Launa. They would collide, surrounded by fragrant notes of flowers and tears. Lys would latch onto Launa's body like a lifeline, a reward for a hard lived existence. She would feel Launa's voice against her ear, murmuring sweet words of reassurance. "You've done well." She would say. That's all Lys needed. A fantasy to last another day. The thought maybe, if she lasted another night, another week, another month, they could meet again. Somewhere.

  Anywhere but here.

  Not here, where Lys had flown by a pile of darkness-filled Drifter bodies from the afternoon's execution.

  Not here, where her face was still wielded on every wall.

  Not here, where Lys was still terrified of herself.

  Why did you come here?

  How many fantasies had turned into red nightmares?

  Her mind tortured her with every way she could hurt Launa. A severed head. A severed limb. A wind blade to the throat, to an artery. Many times had she lashed out and heard the ear-shattering thud of Launa's body break against a wall. She saw bits of her partner falling around her, like confetti, landing in her open hands, her open mouth, her open eyes, tears mixing with splattered blood. Her throat swallowed skin and cells, and her stomach burned of Launa.

  When she awoke, she knew Launa was safe. Far away. In a world where she could live in the light in peace. But now, she was here, where the simple act of walking amongst natives could get her killed.

  Lys covered her mouth, clamping down on tears and vomit.

  Why did you have to come here?

  A lifetime of solitude was more merciful than this dread.

  I have to protect her, she thought.

  I have to protect her.

  She turned to the shop. For the second time in her life, she went to look for John, hating the person she had become between these visits. Hating the world she'd had to survive in.

  She dropped to a window, concentrating on her body. In an instant, she was little more than air with a memory of humanity. Losing her shape, she slid in through the cracks around the window. Inside, she flicked the latch open, opening the window to let in her bag and clothes. She slid back into them, latching on her will to be human, then reformed her body. The smell of herbs and potions seeped into the dark wooded wall and Lys's nostrils, and suddenly she was eighteen again, scared and confused. The warm hands of Leesha and Mordo weren't on her back to reassure her anymore. The taste of independence was bitter on her tongue.

  It didn't take long for a blunt table knife with hopes of violence to touch her throat. She barely felt it as it whizzed through the air. She had heard John was skilled.

  "Who are you?" He said, his voice full of violent promises. He had other knives floating around him. More for show than anything else. The White Shape tried to grab one, but its fingers just passed right through. It started at the limb, a white wish of a hand, as if its own ethereal nature surprised it.

  Air Dancers were rare. No one knew how to fight them. Some fights ended with Lys making a leaf float. John was using the same trick.

  "I'm disappointed," she said, her voice light. "I heard you were a good host. Were my sources wrong?" She lowered her hood, letting the man see her face.

  "Ly-" The name caught in his throat. Even if he arranged for the flower message, he probably hadn't expected her to actually come.

  To be fair, she hadn't either.

  "Why is Launa walking around outside?" She couldn't think of anything else. "Why isn't she at the Order's Headquarters where she'd be safe?"

  John looked taken aback, but smiled. "She's helping me with my shop as thanks for staying here to wait for you," he said as if expecting it to be honey to Lys's ears, but it only birthed flames from her gut.

  "Wha- Why would you do that?!" She all but screamed. John's smiled crashed. "How long has she been here? Does she know everything she needs to know? What if there's a Ghost raid?"

  The man blinked, unprepared for her outburst. He looked at her properly, for the first time since their reunion, and she felt his wind pass through every nerve on her skin, noting the tension and despair.

  "Come in, we can talk over some tea. You need some."

  Lys wanted to argue, but the man didn't wait for her answer, sinking into the depths of the shop to his living quarters.

  He kept sneaking glances at her as he prepared the tea. It made her self conscious. She couldn't remember the last time she let a new acquaintance see her face. It took people time to think of her as something more human than just a face on a wall.

  She hated it.

  People had created this mysticism around her. Around what she could have done, what she was capable of. It amused her, at first, overhearing the crazy theories civilians had for her. But over time, every tale latched onto her back, creating a monstrous amalgamation of expectations. They crawled on top of each other, a mess of limbs full of rumours and the weight of lies. She was tired of it.

  "I know you weren't with the Order for long," John started. "But we have a constant influx of Drifters. We know how to take care of new arrivals. Launa wouldn't have been let out of Headquarters if we weren't confident she knew what she was doing."

  Lys's frown was powered with doubt, he kept him going.

  "Besides, from what I'm hearing she's more than capable of taking care of herself."

  Something inside her snapped.

  "You don't actually believe that, do you?" She interjected, her voice a sharp knife, sharper than she intended.

  "That she's a capable fighter?"

  "John," She sighed. "I didn't just rest on my laurels for three years. I looked you up." The man froze mid sip. "Don't tell me to just sit there and trust she'll be okay out there. If that were true, there would be two more people living with you. Where are they now?"

  "Be careful what you speak of, child." John's voice lost all hints of warmth or kindness. His face was grave. "If you did your research then you should know not to speak to me of this."

  She slammed her fist on the wall. "And you should know not to tell me she'll just 'be okay'."

  John put down his tea cup, perhaps a bit too quickly. "So what? Are you just going to stick to her like glue? Why aren't you outside with her now if that's the case?"

  Their conversation had turned sour. Neither voice sounded remotely friendly.

  "Right! Let's have her stick to the most wanted criminal in Henalda! That'll keep her safe!" Lys didn't mean to raise her voice, but even tea couldn't calm her frustration.

  "What did you do?"

  "Don't ask me!"

  John sighed, breathing in to calm himself. He brought the tea cup back to his lips. "Lys, I know the General more than you might think, he would never spend this much resources for nothing. Do you remember anything unusual?"

  "I don't know!" She stood up, eager to do something, anything. She had been stuck in the closed walls of confusion for too long. "Everybody keeps saying I've done this, unthinkable thing, but I did nothing! I was living my life, going to school, everything perfectly normal until this blonde weirdo and some ghost girl just- waltzed through the door."

  John coughed up his tea, barely managing to catch the drops with his Dancing before they fell on the cushions. "You saw her!?" His voice had lost its hostility, filled only with genuine surprise.

  Lys didn't see why she was stopped for that detail. "Yeah, she-" She hesitated to continue. She was going to say she eerily resembled The White Shape. Not in shape, but in principle.

  She glanced to her left, where the White Shape was inspecting the small kitchen. It was barely see through, delicate, familiar and terrifying all at once. She felt they were too similar for comfort. But she wouldn't say it out loud. She hadn't talked about The White Shape out loud for over three years now, and John certainly wouldn't be the first to hear it.

  "Anyway-" She continued, "He comes and just grabs me without saying a word, like a small child. I was terrified and my teacher tried to intervene. But the General was too strong as I started to panic and I- I-" She saw the red walls again. "And then I just froze and let him take me through the door. I ended up in this weird misty purple corridor. We kept going further and further and when his grip started to lessen because he thought I was just too in shock to resist. I shook him off and opened the first door I could reach. I barreled into Leesha and Mordo's living room as they were having lunch through the door they usually used to connect to the Order. They were almost more confused than I was when I told them I wasn't from-" She stopped as she glanced down at John who had spilled half his tea on the floor, which she was too busy frantically pacing to notice. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm-" He started, hesitant. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. I thought you said you opened a door in that corridor you described."

  Lys stared at him, cocking her head in confusion. "I did?"

  John looked at her as if she was crazy. "No- No. No." He stood and briskly walked towards the door connecting the living quarters to the storefront. He placed his hand on the handle, and moments later, purple mist oozed from every crack. Lys rushed to see it, feeling a bizarre sense of nostalgia as she saw the strange corridor again when he opened the door.

  "I will only ask you this once," he said, each word as heavy as the world. "Did you, or did you not, open a door while in this corridor?"

  Lys blinked. "I did."

  John's eyes bore into her, observing her face for any kind of crack, of lies. His search seemed to have been in vain as he closed his eyes in resignation.

  "I need something stronger," He said, letting his cup of tea merrily float to empty what little was left in the sink. He closed the door to the misty corridor, then opened it again, this time it led to the shop front. He headed towards a shelf labelled pain relief, but before he could get anything, the front door opened.

  It took Lys half a second to fade into air and hide her clothes under a counter. John was more surprised than reactive, and his startle broke several potions on the counter he had leaned on.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "Is everything okay?"

  Launa's voice.

  Lys couldn't see in this state, but she could feel. She could feel every inch of her face, of her hair. Her soft voice resonated inside of Lys's very core, and if she had eyes, she probably would have cried.

  She's so close.

  "Yes!' John answered. She could feel his eyes frantically looking for her. "Yes. Of course. I'm fine. Very fine. Don't mind me. You have something to do, don't you? Don't let me keep you. Go ahead."

  "I'm...off then."

  Lys drank in her voice, letting it vibrate in the gust of air she was until the closet door closed and she could reform once more. She could feel John's eyes on her as she kept her gaze to the door separating her from Launa.

  "You," he started. "and I, need to have a nice, long chat."

  Lys hummed in agreement, still looking at the door which, only seconds earlier, had brought the fresh smell of the ocean. "Just give me five minutes."

  Before John could stop her, she stepped out of the shop, towards the flower fields she had seen earlier. With the sun fully out in the sky, they were all blooming at their best. Gently swaying in the wind.

  She searched for the best.

  Launa deserved the best.

  She flew back to the sunken square, finding the kitchen window. She cradled the flower as she placed it in a small crack. One you wouldn't normally notice. But Launa had been trained to notice small kitchen window cracks. Lys saw John watching her inquisitively from the other side of the glass. She just smiled at him. Only one person needed to know what she was doing. They couldn't talk for long, with Launa's impending return hanging over their heads. Once he had enough information, John directed her towards the closet door. She observed it closely. In her three years in this world, she had never seen anything quite like portals. She could manipulate the air around her, but John could connect any two doors from anywhere in the world with the single flick of a switch.

  Just when she thought she had gotten used to everything.

  "Don't speak to anyone about what we talked about today," John said, his voice grave. "I need to take this up to Philip first."

  "Philip?"

  "The poor soul driving the Order." John had said this with humour, but it barely concealed the sadness under his words. Lys didn't blame him. To survive as a Drifter, even in the Order, one had to go out into the world. And going out into the world, meant wagering their lives on whether the sky would be filled with the whiteness of Ghosts. The Order of Narcissus didn't stop Drifters from dying. It filled the remainder of their lives with safe beds and convivial food. It kept up the illusion of safety.

  It nourished the 'maybe'.

  'Maybe I'll survive tomorrow.'

  'Maybe everything will be alright.'

  Philip patted their backs, said: "Yes, you'll be just fine." then prepared the funerals of the executed.

  It seemed so pointless in the grand scheme of the world, but with Launa in the equation, she was more than glad for their existence. She stepped out through the door and into the forest cradle of the island, keeping an eye out for Launa. Her feet sunk into the welcoming white sand, and the ocean wind twirled around her. With no one in sight, she flew up into one of the imposing trees. Their first branch seemed to be further from the ground than the top of any respectable tree on the mainland. The island trees silently asserting their dominance even with no one to see them. Lys watched. She let the ocean air ruffle her hair as she battled against sleep. She let herself feel the forest around her, a cradle to a door of many possibilities. She saw many people come and go from the solitary doorway.

  Some came out soaked as dogs, quickly taking off their shoes and rolling up their tunics so the sand wouldn't stick. Some went in as hooded figures, connecting the door to a dark alley. Some came out carrying the rich smell of a farmer's market, along with a large carrier basket full of fruits and vegetables. One went in with fiery red hair, a body covered in sweat, and a face full of satisfaction. Lys watched as her smile fell in front of the door. She saw Launa breathe in deep before turning the handle. Lys knew she wasn't being fair, letting her presence known while keeping herself away from her. But there was too much at stake. And Lys had gotten much too used to running.

  She floated down, feeling the warm sand under her feet once more. She took one last glance at the quiet door, wondering what face Launa would make as she saw the flower.

  Maybe it had been too long? Maybe she didn't remember? She hoped she would see it in the morning, wake up to good news. Lys smiled. It had been too long since her actions had the potential to bring joy to someone. Feeling jittery, she started to turn. Today was a good-

  The door barreled open, as if gasping for air. Lys couldn't help but turn back to look.

  Their eyes met.

  White met green and the world stopped for a moment. They stood there, Launa with one foot on the sand and her right hand on the door, Lys half turned towards it. The Air Dancer observed with a scientific obsession how Launa's expression went from desperation, to shock, to a smile which could rival the brightest stars.

  "Ly-"

  Lys flew up like an arrow. Reaching back up to the branch she had previously rested on. Her heart beat a mile a second. Her eyes focused on the trunk before her, but her wind kept focusing on Launa, indiscreetly scanning every inch of her face. She was frowning.

  "...What are you doing?" She asked, looking up to the heights where Lys was barely as big as an arm. It seemed she knew enough about Air Dancing from living with John to know there was no need to raise her voice for Lys to hear her.

  The Air Dancer stayed silent. She hadn't prepared for this. She didn't know what to say. She still needed more time to know what she wanted to be with Launa.

  "Well, I'm going to talk then." Lys could feel Launa's face falling. "I wanted to apologise."

  Lys turned to look at her. "What?" She made sure her voice carried right up to the red-haired woman's ears.

  "I went back to school as quick as I could, you know, though back then I didn't know about this whole world-hopping business. Good thing there was still a distortion floating around, probably from when you got taken. And I did end up here, which is good, but I ended up coming much later, and you were here alone. I should have gone back much sooner. I can't imagine what it's been like."

  Lys frowned. "Wait- You came here because of me?" She couldn't believe she was forming those words. There was something cold in her chest. Very cold. She could live with herself if Launa had come here by mistake, but she had followed her?

  She had followed her?

  "As willingly as I could be while being ignorant of everything. You know I would never leave you alone." Launa smiled, and Lys snapped.

  She stood, her body like a live wire of despair. "Why?! Why would you ever do that?"

  Launa seemed taken aback, her face in shock. "What do you mean why? You know why!" Anger started to seep out of her voice. "Are you telling me you wouldn't do the same for me?!"

  "Of course I would!"

  "Then what's the problem!?" She was irritated. She had surely been expecting a joyful, tear-filled reunion, not whatever this mess was. "Are you going to say some self-deprecating bullshit again? Like 'Oh, no, how could she do this for little old me? I don't even deserve to set foot on this earth, I am but an insect.'"

  "High school woes have nothing to do with this situation! You know how serious this is! You could die at any time!"

  "And you couldn't?"

  "I can defend myself!"

  "So can I! Now come down from your tree you're ridiculous!"

  "No you-" Lys saw flashes of red. Red walls. Red sand. Launa with wind lacerations, her eyes lifeless and filled with darkness, blood slowly leaving her body to reach the ground.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  She could barely breathe.

  "Things aren't the same Launa!"

  "Why?!" Launa's voice was only anger. It had lost all softness, filled with confusion, and hurt, and Lys's heart hurt all the more.

  "Go back. I need to see Philip and I don't want you to get in my way." She made her voice sound as cold as she felt.

  It was hard.

  So hard.

  She wanted to cry.

  "Oh, so I get in your way now? Lys the 'legend' doesn't need me anymore?"

  "Go. Back." She poorly concealed her shaking voice, and she knew Launa could hear it. She always did. She could read her like an open book with footnotes on every word.

  "You know this isn't over, right?"

  Lys didn't respond. She stood there, straight as she could be. They both knew she wouldn't back down. Even with Launa's headstrong personality, Lys was always the most stubborn of the two. She stood, face stern even if Launa couldn't discern it. It hurt, facing Launa like this. She was counting down the seconds until she left, until she could break down.

  Launa slowly turned, keeping her gaze on Lys as long as she could. She walked to the solitary door which had stayed ajar, there was no doubt John had heard at least half of the conversation. She glanced one last time at Lys before slamming the door behind her.

  Lys walked with heavy steps to reach the Tower of Names. She didn't want to use her wind. She couldn't help but think of what it had already done. Of what it could do. Of how she wished she could live without it. There was a commotion forming around her. Loud whispers. Gasps. She reached up to her face. Right, not only was she not wearing her blindfold, she also hadn't put her hood up. She was in full view of everyone.

  The moving sketch.

  The criminal.

  The Legend.

  There was a sentinel at the tower's entrance reading a book. She didn't blame him, the order was famously impossible to find, with it being only accessible through portals. But you could never have too many precautions.

  "Hey, I need to see Philip."

  The man hummed, finishing his sentence. "Why are you asking me, don't you know where-" He looked up. She could see the moment he thought he was dreaming, the confusion in his eyes, which quickly turned into utter disbelief. "What the fuck," he said in the calmest voice she had ever heard.

  Lys didn't bother playing along. "Philip's office?"

  "Right on top," he said, eyes still wide as plates. "Just get on the stairs and keep going until you can't anymore. You're lucky, he was about to leave soon."

  "Guess I am," she said, smile strained. She entered the tower, finding the winding stairs lining the wall on her right. She went up, conscious of the sentinel peeking his head in to just stare at her.

  She missed her blindfold. Her eyes were drawn to the names on every stone. She had an inkling as to what they represented. The future of drifters. Her own future. Launa's. Her heart started stammering again, banging against her ribs. She had a hard time breathing, holding on to the wall with her right hand. She kept seeing red. Red stones. Red hands. Red bubbling. Red dripping. The tower seemed to close into itself. It was crushing her.

  She knew what was happening. She'd had too many of them. She tried to focus on her environment, anything that wasn't those bloody stones. She found a picture frame on the wall. It was discrete, so much so that you could pass by it and never even notice it was there. The frame was wooden brown, rough with years. In it, was an expertly drawn sunrise.

  It was mesmerising. The warm colours of the sun shot out from the small object. Lys grounded herself by looking at every detail. Every tree, every flower. There was a small scribble at the bottom right. A signature.

  To Robb, my Love. by Narcissus.

  Someone was coming down the stairs. She straightened herself, breathed as deeply as she could, then put on her invisible mask. She started climbing again, keeping her eyes firmly off of the wall.

  "Oh, I was about to leave. Can I help you?" The man, Philip she guessed, said. His long brown hair fell into his weathered face as he walked down. His eyes, wide as plates when he recognised her, were the dark of sleeplessness, and his shoulders low from heavy expectations. She felt like she was looking in a mirror. He at least had the decency to hide his surprise after a few seconds. "Well," he started again, voice almost stable. "Back up to my office we go."

  She followed him in silence, still not calm enough to trust herself to speak. Philip was equally silent, stiff as a plank, and seemed to have a hard time finding the keyhole to the dark door. She surely wasn't what he expected to see after clocking out.

  "Make yourself comfortable," he said as they entered.

  Lys looked around what seemed to be the waiting room, with old sofas and a worn-out low table. It looked like a poorly organised garage sale set up, each piece full of its own history and style. Strangely, they didn't clash with each other, but lived in strange, mismatched harmony.

  Lys sat on the black sofa, while Philip stayed standing.

  "So.' he started, his hands twisting like they couldn't decide what position they wanted to be in. "What can we do for you?"

  "I want to make a deal." It came out rushed. She blamed it on lack of sleep.

  Philip raised an eyebrow. "Go on..."

  "I will do whatever I can to help the Order. Whatever mission you need me to do. In exchange, I want you to make protecting Launa your top priority."

  The man looked perplexed. "Launa as in our Launa? Red-haired-"

  "The one and only."

  Philip took a second to digest her words. "I have to admit, I didn't completely believe her when she said she knew you. As you may know, becoming a Drifter does tend to make people go a bit..." he waved his index around the right side of his face. "I should apologise to her when I get a chance. I just need a precision."

  She nodded.

  "I'm assuming the person in question has no idea you're asking us about this."

  Lys shook her head. "Is there any way you could do this without her knowing?"

  "You mean secretly keeping one of my best fighters safely cooped up on the island and never sending her on missions she'll be training others for?" He said with a nervous smile.

  She groaned, putting her head in her hands. "This is hopeless, isn't it? She's going to go out there, be reckless and get herself-" She couldn't say it. Her mouth wouldn't form the word while thinking of Launa. She stood up, pacing. "There has to be a way." She turned to Philip. "Do you have maybe a remote little shack in the middle of nowhere where you could send her as a 'recon' mission of some sort?"

  Philip raised an eyebrow "You really think she'll be fooled by that?"

  "Then what do you suggest?"

  Philip's face fell. He forced a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, you don't want to learn from me."

  She cocked her head in confusion.

  He sighed. "I'm living your worst-case scenario."

  Oh. Oh. "Oh, I'm so-"

  "Don't apologise. Let me just tell you something." His eyes as he looked at her were deep. Full of so many emotions she didn't even dare try to discern them. "People die," he said. "That's a fact. Whether now or later, whether we have something to do with it or not. So if you care about her, spend every single second you can with her. Because we can't control our time, but we can control the time we spend with those we love."

  He smiled. A sad, but genuine smile. "And isn't that the most important?"