"Let us bow our heads in thankful prayer to F.E.A.R., for their benevolent protection of our small community."

Shen followed the lead of everyone else in the church, bowing his brown curly head to rest it against the pew in front of him. The old woman and her aging husband didn't notice; they were both on their knees too. Shen could hear the old woman whispering in a cracked voice, "F.E.A.R. protect us from sin. F.E.A.R. keep us safe from the rebels." Her husband put his work-worn hand over her shoulder and held her close as he bowed his head in agreement.

Shen's own parents and two other brothers were kneeling with their eyes closed in silent prayer. Well, Forner, the middle brother, was praying. Theosis, his youngest brother, was just pretending. His sparkling blue eye was peeking out from behind clasped hands to roam around the quiet Parish.

Shen's parent's, however, were fervently worshiping their savior. His mother's lips were curved into a smile as she spoke silently to their god and his dad looked completely stripped away from his muscle bound body – weak and powerless against F.E.A.R.'s magnificence.

Suddenly out of nowhere, Shen was angry at F.E.A.R. How dare they make his strong father look like such a weakling? He didn't deserve it! The tears scoring his father's face should be replaced with the blood of his enemies, the tremble in his limbs from awe replaced with the tremble of strained muscles after a battle!

Suddenly, a nudge interrupted his thoughts. It was his mother, her blonde hair catching the warm glow from the candlelight and making it glow like it was angel's hair – or maybe liquid gold.

"You should be praying." She whispered quietly into his ear. Shen looked at her for a moment, feeling a rush of defiance, but he sighed and nodded, turning to face the alter again and bowing his head, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to empty his thoughts. It didn't work – the enveloping darkness behind his lids only made his feelings magnify, as well as every little sound within the church.

A man across the aisle coughed, a staccato overriding the rhythm of the old woman's prayer. Someone dropped a pen, which was followed with a rustle of papers fluttering to the ground. Shen felt the shudder of the person who dropped the supplies when they knelt down to gather them up.

"And now…" It was the Vicar in charge of their Parish, and everyone looked up at him before fixing their eyes on the honey-colored wood of the pew in front of them. "if any of the flock feel the need to confess their sins and come back to the shadows, now is the time to do so."

There was a quiet spell, then the old woman came forward, her feet shuffling on the dark carpet with a scritch scritch. She made it to the front of the Parish and bowed her head to the symbol of F.E.A.R. above the alter and announced, loudly and with shame, "I told… my oldest granddaughter that I…. supported her decision to join the rebels."

Shen tensed up, looking at the other members or their Parish. Most of them, except for the very little ones like Theosis, were looking at the old woman with outrage and fear. Theosis, in question, was picking at a splinter on the wooden pew in front of them and was unaware of the chaos of the old woman's proclamation.

The Vicar didn't seem fazed by the old woman, and came forward and put an arm around her as she continued to speak in broken, halting sentences. "She-she told me that she wanted be her own person… and I told her that she should! I… I didn't know what to do! Amborella is my oldest granddaughter! I love her so much!" There were no tears, but the Vicar patted her back as the shaking woman made her way back to her seat.

"F.E.A.R. has forgiven you of your sins." He announced, smiling brightly at the tearful grandmother. "They will send a representative to talk to Amborella about her rebellion and the love that is here for her in our Parish and the sinfulness out in the desert."

Shen could see people breathing sighs of relief and nodding along with the Vicar, who was an older man with thinning white hair and a bony drooping face. It was as if he was made of candle wax and had been left somewhere warm for too long. He wore thin glasses perched on the end of his nose and his face radiated kindness with an undertone of something Shen recognized from his stints in the F.E.A.R. correctional facilities: a wild craving for power.

Almost everyone had been to a correctional facility at some point or another, because everyone questions their faith. But Shen had doubts a lot more than anybody else in his family and most likely in his Parish. As such, he was sent to the facilities often. He didn't remember much, but the glint of a man starving for control never left him.

The old woman – Amborella's grandmother – looked reassured and was wiping her eyes (probably trying to take care of the tears before they fell) with a lacy white handkerchief. Her husband was whispering quietly to her and was probably reassuring her of Amborella coming back to the Parish. Either way, Shen couldn't hear what they were saying.

Two men, three women, and one child stepped forward after the display of Amborella's grandmother to confess their sins. The Vicar showered them with guarantees of sins being forgiven. Shen snorted and looked away. His mother didn't catch it thankfully, but the girl across the aisle and a few seats behind them did.

Her hair was dark and straight and caught the light of the sparse candles in the dark Parish in a way that wasn't quite natural. Her eyes were black and sparkled with laughter as she stared at Shen.

Then her eyes flicked forward and it was as if she had never been looking. Shen continued to stare, and watched as the girl took out a rosary of black beads with a symbol on it that definitely wasn't the symbol of F.E.A.R. and kissed it, pressed it against her forehead, then slipped it underneath the collar of her white dress again. He didn't get a chance to see what symbol the rosary had on it, but he was shocked that she would dare do that – and in the middle of a Parish, no less!

The girl's eyes came down to stare at him and suddenly, Shen knew… he knew she had meant for him to see that. But why? Why would she risk being accused of paganism just for him to see her with that rosary? Why couldn't she just have waited until a time when they weren't in the middle of Confession?

She winked and pointed to the clock behind them. It was pointing to nine forty-seven in the morning. Morning was a relative sense of course – the rebels were active during the day, so F.E.A.R. had told their flocks to change their schedules to stay in the dark. As such, Parish now took place just after sunset every other day before everyone went to work or school or whatever.

It was dark in the Parish, and to give it a more spiritual feel, only the minimum number of candles was used. People could see to get around, but it was dark enough that the Mouth of F.E.A.R. could make its way into their midst.

Anyway, the girl pointed to the clock and then flashed one finger at him, then again. One o'clock at night? When it was light out? What would his mom say if she caught him sneaking out? The girl then flashed him a grin again and turned forward and stared with a rapt expression at the F.E.A.R. symbol above the alter – as if she was the most devout follower of F.E.A.R. in the entire Parish.

Shen didn't know what to think. Where did she want to meet? What did she want to know? What would happen–

The Parish rose as one (except for Shen, who was a few seconds late at getting on his feet) and began to chant the Prayer for Deliverance. It was something that everyone learned before they were out of primary; even Theosis was talking along with it in his high-pitched voice with the mispronunciations.

"So dewiver us fwom the webels… Fow they awe the disease seeking to destwoy us." Shen smiled at his adorable little brother and mouthed along with the prayer – he never actually said the words. After the prayer was finished, everyone chorusing "amen", they began to pack up and move out.

Shen turned to look for the dark skinned girl, but she was gone. In retrospect, that's probably why she was sitting near the aisle in the far back row: to make a quick exit. Unsure as to what to do, he took the red candle offered to him by his mother and lit it on one of the candles still flickering in the Parish (the others having been blown out by people opening the doors and a breeze rushing through the Parish). He cupped the tiny flame in his palm and followed his parents out into the crowded street.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Shen awoke that night (the sun was in fact up, but it's all relative) to a knock on his window. At first, he thought that maybe it had just been an aftermath of the dream he had been having where every cup he tried to pick had fallen apart in a tinkling of glass and had turned over to try and go back to sleep. But the knocking persisted, and eventually Shen yawned and turned to look at the window above his desk (which was wedged right next to his bed; working as a bedside table as well as his desk). He almost fell out of his bed when the face of the girl from Parish grinned back at him through the window.

His heartbeat racing, Shen debated. Should he let her and risk being caught with her in his room, or go outside and risk being caught out after curfew? Or should he just tell her to go away and go back to bed? He looked at her and caught sight of the rosary around her neck. Oh, fangdra. He was never going to be able to resist finding out what she had been doing with the rosary.

He flipped his sheets back and unlocked the window, crawling out to sit on the roof beside the girl.

"It's about hisjing time." She huffed. "I thought you would sleep through the end of the world."

Shen wasn't sure what surprised him more: the fact that she had just cursed aloud or the fact that she had found his house.

"But anyway. I expect you have some questions. Call me the Pathfinder."

Shen gave her an extremely skeptical look. "There's no way that your real name."

"True enough, but names are powerful. So you can call me Pathfinder. I'm a Legionnaire."

Huh? "A Legionnaire?"

"Oh, that's right… you're from an inner city. I guess I would be called a 'rebel' here then." Pathfinder made quotes with her fingers around the word 'rebel'.

Shen started, looking around with caution. There was no one about and the street was quiet with only the sound of bugs and the two of them breathing to break the silence. It was too bright in the sun. He was missing sleep for this? A meeting with a rebel that might get him admitted to a correctional facility again?

"But we're not exactly rebels." Pathfinder amended. "We're the Legion of the Black. We really just want to be left alone and lead anyone we can out of F.E.A.R.'s grasp."

"But F.E.A.R. protects us!" Shen protested. It was way too hot out here. He was sweating and he pulled off his long sleeve, sitting on the black-tarred roof of his house in sleeping pants and a tank top.

"From what? Your sins? Pfft. Please." Pathfinder flicked her long hair behind her shoulder. "That's just what they want you to think. There's really not as many sins as they say. Truthfully, almost everything is circumstantial. If someone's trying to kill you, it's okay to kill them. It's okay to lie when it's necessary."

Now Shen felt offended. "No, not from our sins. From you! And besides, if they save us from our sins, then we're going to heaven – you're going to hell."

He felt a flicker of pride when Pathfinder's expression soured. "We only attack when provoked. They kill us because we are there! And for your information, we're not going to hell. 'Hell's already all filled up'." She quoted. "That's the Prophet, just so that you know."

Shen was just confused now. "Who's the Prophet?"

"He's our leader. Well, technically I answer to the Deviant, but the Deviant answers to the Prophet. They're the Wild Ones. The Prophet, the Deviant, the Proclaimer, the Mystic, and the Destroyer. Everyone in the Legion answers to one of them. I'm part of the Deviant's kin – his soldiers." Pathfinder stretched out her wrists. On each wrist on the inside, right behind her palm was a tattoo that read 'OUTLAW' in an old-fashioned western print curved like a rainbow.

"You take the sign of a Wild One when you join their kin – there's a ceremony where your General accepts you into their kin and then these show up. It depends on the Wild One, but normally you get more than just the mark: sometimes you'll… change."

"Change… how?" Shen reached out a hand to touch the tanned skin where the markings were. It was smooth and perfectly normal, almost as if she had been born with it.

"Like I said, it depends. The Deviant's kin normally get darker or lighter skin. I used to be as pale as a ghost. And take a look at my eyes."

He dragged his gaze back up to her eyes, which were a deep, dark brown that the sunlight seemed to catch and turn into melted chocolate instead of a suffocating blackness, like they had that morning.

"Would you believe that my eyes used to be blue? I've seen some of the darkest eyes ever turn a deep blue when they join the kin of the Prophet. They get like this… bat symbol on their arms right here." She tapped her right arm about halfway up her forearm. "Just so that you see if them you'll know who you're looking at."

Shen's mind suddenly caught up with what she was saying and he stood up quickly, walking to the edge of the roof and looking across the dirt street to the houses across it. He was silent, as was Pathfinder. Finally, he spoke over the thickness of the hot day and the bugs.

"I never said I was coming with you." It sounded impossibly loud and yet weak and pitiful out in the sunlight.

"You'd better decide quickly, then." Pathfinder sounded almost angry. "Because of her grandmother, I've got to hide Amborella before F.E.A.R. sends someone after her. They'd rather kill us than let us leave. You've got three days to choose. We'll be back then, and you better have picked what side you're on before then."

She stood up, her navy blue dress swishing as she leapt to the tree next to the house – the green washed out by the bright sun and the heat drying out the leaves and grass. Once she was on the ground, Pathfinder sent a glare his way before making her way down the street and around the corner, out of sight. All that was left of the Legionnaire was a plume of dust and the unsettled thoughts swirling through Shen's head.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The next few days led to a very distracted Shen. Forner had given up on talking with him in frustration and Theosis began to monopolize Forner's attention. Meanwhile, Shen locked himself in his room, pretending to be doing work for academy while he pondered Pathfinder's words.

Leaving meant leaving his family behind. Leaving meant hardship and suffering. But leaving also meant freedom from a religion he didn't believe in. It meant he was free to do what he wanted to, without fear of being put into a correctional facility again.

He sighed heavily and wearily, rubbing his brown curly hair with vigor. What would happen to Theosis without him? Forner could take care of him, and nobody would hurt them – it was against F.E.A.R.'s policy to allow violence – or at least he thought it was. Pathfinder had said that they attacked the Legion without provocation. Could she be right?

Shen flopped backwards, staring at the blank ceiling in his bedroom. His parents wouldn't be happy. But he could tell them in a letter… no. He would tell them the night before he left. If he left at all.

There seemed to be no good way out. What would happen to his soul if he went with Pathfinder? He didn't believe in F.E.A.R. as much as he probably should have, but at the same time he was worried about what happened after he dies. What had Pathfinder said? "The pits of Hell are all filled up?" What about heaven? Would he go there?

Shen was sure he wouldn't. Not if he went with the Legion. But he wouldn't go to Hell either, according to the Prophet – whoever that was. Maybe purgatory? That couldn't be too bad.

There was a crash downstairs and Theosis began to cry. He was only four! If Shen left, he wouldn't get to see Theosis grow up. That was his major concern. He didn't particularly want to see his parents grow old or see Forner (who was only two years younger than him) do exactly what he did. Theosis was almost like having his own son, and he was going to miss the little guy. If he left at all. Why was his brain saying he'd already decided that he was going to the murderous rebels?

Two more days before he had to make a final decision.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Shen had failed a test on F.E.A.R. that day. His parents were shocked and decided to have a chat about it; try to find out why he failed. Forner was listening with a scowl on his face, and Theosis played in the living room. Once and a while the tiny blonde would look with disappointment at the group in the kitchen, all of whom were very stoically ignoring him.

"Why didn't you do well in this test? Shen, we studied this together!" His mom asked, seeking answers with concern.

"It's nothing Mom. I'm just not feeling all that well."

This then sent her into a rant about health and Shen's father just stood. Listening. Letting her get out her motherly concern before excusing both of them to talk in private. Their bedroom door closed with the click of the lock, and Forner and Shen stood in the kitchen alone.

Theosis whispered quietly, playing F.E.A.R. with one action figure, then switching to a gravelly, 'evil' voice to play the rebels. For a while, his 'dialogue' was the only noise in the house – their parents must have been whispering, too.

Finally, Forner spoke up. "You should have aced that test." He sounded sullen. Suspicious.

"Well, I didn't." Shen shrugged, ignoring the leap of his heart at his brother's suspicion.

Forner pushed up his glasses, glaring at Shen. "You'd better not be doing what I think you're doing. Or else I'll go straight to F.E.A.R. There's no place for a non-believer here."

So it was not as bad as he thought, but still pretty hisjing bad. "I'm not doubting again, Forner."

"You'd better not be. I love you Shen, but I won't hesitate to call F.E.A.R. It's for your own good, anyway." Shen nodded, somehow managing to feel scolded by his younger brother.

Forner scratched his dirty blonde hair (it was too short to be curly, but had he grown it out, it would be just as curly as Shen's) in a show of extreme awkwardness now that his message had been clearly received.

"Fowner? Can you pway F.E.A.W. wif me?" Theosis asked, holding up the 'rebel' with pleading.

"Sure, Theo." Forner smiled at his brother with warmth that suddenly Shen realized he missed. Forner hadn't looked at him like that since the first time he'd been set to a correctional facility. Had it really been ten years? Forner must have been really devoted to his faith to shun his own brother just for doubting like that.

Shen clomped up the wood stairs to his room, slamming the door behind with enough force that he hoped it echoed throughout the whole house.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The Day arrived. Shen went to academy like every other day, but spent it doodling in the margins of the paper Pathfinder's markings and the things about the Legion he remembered her telling him – the lack of Hell (or rather, the vacancy of Hell being rather nonexistent), the Wild Ones' kin, and the freedom of the wild desert. So what if he made the last part up? Pathfinder seemed like she would say something like that.

It seemed like his heart had made the choice whether he wanted to or not. The Legion was calling to him, and he should have admitted it on day one. He could be safely within the Legion by this point. How far away were they? He had no idea, but hopefully not three days out.

Academy ended with him getting sent home for not paying attention, which lead to another lecture from his disappointed parents over the phone at home. After suffering through his mother's talk, Shen looked around his room. He'd need to take clothes. Hygienic stuff. Food. Food was definitely important.

Taking the bag he used for academy, he began to stuff clothes into it. After filling it up about halfway with clothes (about two and a half outfits), Shen raided the kitchen, filling it almost to the brim with non-perishables. The last thing that went in were things like his hairbrush and soap.

Finally, he sat down to wait for sunrise.

. . . . . . . . . . .

His parents got home from work at around the same time. Forner had been home earlier with Theosis in tow. When he had seen Shen sitting in the living room pretending to nap (he was way too high-strung right now to do that), he had muttered something like, "Typical." Under his breath before going upstairs to sit and do academy work.

Theosis asked if Shen would color with him, and Shen was suddenly hit with the fact that he would most likely never see Theosis again. So he sat down next to the four-year-old and colored a mushroom purple with an aching heart.

It hurt to know that he and Theosis would never sit and color or play pretend together again after that night. They'd never play ball in the dirt road, or go to Parish and Shen keep Theosis busy during the Vicar's speech.

At the table for dinner, Shen sat next to Theosis and kept a smile on his face, but it felt cracked, like old plaster. His throat hurt and Theosis' antics (which his mother frowned upon) made it ache even worse. His heart felt like it was being clenched between two fists, wrung out like a towel. No tears – Shen almost never cried. But he felt like if he lost control, he would cry and never be able to stop.

But thankfully, dinner was soon over and Shen whispered to his parents that he needed to talk to them after they put Theosis to bed. His mother nodded, a flicker of worry crossing her pretty face and his father's lips tightened as he nodded also.

While he sat in his room waiting, Shen stared at the ceiling, watching as the sun began to creep into the room. It threw interesting orange and gold streaks across the door. The bag he packed sat by the door, ready to be picked up at any second and almost mocking him.

What if his parents forbid him to go? They wouldn't have enough time to get a locksmith or anything to keep him in his room, but what about the front door? They could certainly keep him from getting out that way. Shen sat up and looked out the window. Hmm… Pathfinder had gotten in through the window. Would his parents think to look there? Certainly he could at least get his bag outside so that his parents wouldn't suspect him to be leaving for good if he left the house without any luggage if they somehow managed to keep him in his room.

He snatched the bag up, climbed out the window and dropped it in the brown bushes next to the house. It landed with a soft crunch – obvious to anyone looking, but your eyes would travel right by it if you weren't expecting the bag to be around.

Clambering quickly back through the window, Shen shut, locked, and pulled the curtains in his room and lit a candle. Now it would probably not occur to his parents that he was planning on sneaking out through the window.

His door swung open, and Shen jumped guiltily. But it was just his parents. They looked solemn – probably didn't want anything he told them to seem like a joke from the get-go.

"Hey, Mom…Dad. Um, could you sit on the bed, please? This–" Shen laughed slightly, staring at the ceiling and running a hand through his hair. "this is… hard to tell you."

His mother gave him a concerned look, and his father asked, "Is this about academy? If you need to, we can get a tutor–"

"No. It's not about academy. Well, it kind of is. What I mean is…" Shen was getting flustered and babbling. It was definitely worrying his parents now.

"What is it? Shen… honey… you can tell us. We won't get mad." His mother sounded sincere, but Shen doubted that she would keep her promise. Joining the rebels… Fangdra. She was going to flip.

"What I want to tell you is… um…" Shen looked at the door, floor, wall, anywhere that was not his parents. His stomach fluttered, adding to the choking sensation in his throat and clenching of his heart. "I… I'm…. I am…" Just spit it out! He growled to himself. But it was as if his mind was stuttering over the phrase like an old broken CD.

"I'm leaving… to join the Legion of the Black?" It came out as a question rather than a statement, but Shen was watching his parents' expressions. They looked confused, and his mother sat forward and touched his arm softly.

"That's great, honey! But… why was it so hard to tell us that?" She didn't know what it was. Of course she didn't know what the Legion was. It was just harder to tell her now than it was before.

"Because… that's, um, that's not what it's called here. They're… um…. They're called the rebels." The last part was almost whispered. But they definitely heard it. A sharp intake of breath from his mother, a hardening expression from his father. They both stayed seated though, which was a plus. Shen didn't know what he would have done if they had gotten up and started yelling at him.

Shen laughed softly. Hysterically. "I'm leaving soon. There was someone who told me that they could take me out to the Legion." No need to tell them he was leaving in a few hours. They would completely flip rarthna if they knew that.

"Shen… why? They're killers." His mom's voice was soft. Almost whispered. The glow of the candle hit her face and illuminated it in a soft brown color. Her face was contorted, torn between horror and concern. Shen's stomach twisted in his chest. He didn't want to have this conversation. He wanted to stay.

But he needed to go. He needed the freedom that Pathfinder had promised. But what would his parents understand of that?

"Mom… there's a reason I've been in and out of correctional facilities for so long. I don't belong here. This is your faith. Not mine. The Legion is where I need to be."

"But why? Shen… please. Reconsider. They'll kill you!" His mother's face was now stuck in heart-wrenching sorrow. The expression was almost enough to make him stay, but the pull of the wild was stronger.

"I'm leaving, Mom. I promise – I'll come back if it doesn't… work out." His father, who had been silent this entire time, put a hand on his shoulder. His hand was big and rough. Strong and comforting.

"Go."

What? "Dad?"

"Dalhon?" His mother whispered, mixing her face into a cocktail of disbelief and despair.

"Go. My brother – your uncle – Lankon is out there. Find him. Tell him I'm alright." Shen had never even heard of Uncle Lankon, but he nodded fervently.

"I'm not saying I approve, Shen. But you're old enough now to decide on your own. If Lankon is still alive… well. I can be the better man and allow you to make your own decisions." His father slapped his back and left, nearly dragging a shell-shocked Martagon with him.

Shen followed them out the door and into the hall, giving his mother a kiss and a hug to his dad. "I'm leaving tonight. While the sun's up."

Dalhon nodded. "I hope you make it, son."

Martagon threw her arms around her son, hugging him so tightly that Shen was sure that he cracked a rib. "There's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"…I'm sorry." Shen murmured, hugging her back and giving her another peck before heading back to his room. Forner was standing in front of his room, staring. He smiled once at Shen before disappearing back within his room with barely a whisper as the door slid shut.

Shen took a deep breath and stepped out the window. He slid down the roof and jumped the rest of the way, doing a somersault when he landed to keep from hurting his ankles. The bag was right where he left it, and he picked it, slinging it over his shoulder. He sat down underneath the tree and tilted his head back, staring at the clear deep blue sky with the feeling of a prison sentence weighing on his shoulders.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Well, you certainly are relaxed." The snarky comment made it's way through his brain and Shen groaned, blinking in the bright sunlight. "But it's not like we're not running from a religion that has its priests try to kill us or anything like that."

The silhouettes of the two girls against the sun made him squint. Sitting up, Shen yawned and stretched, his muscles pulling in a way that felt way too good. Finally, he looked again at the girls, only to find a totally inappropriate comment winding its way out of his mouth.

"What are you wearing?"

Pathfinder was wearing what was basically a scrap of black cloth wound around her torso, not covering very far down her legs at all and not covering her shoulders, either. There was some sort of mask sitting on her forehead (Shen had a sneaking suspicion it was a devil mask) and she was bare foot, standing on the blistering dirt road with barely an eyelash to betray that it hurt.

"It's my Legionnaire stuff, alright? There's a different set of rules out there, and since I'm a part of the Legion, I'm expected to dress like them. You're just starting out, so you get a free pass. But you're expected to ditch those clothes as soon as possible."

"Um… okay." Shen looked at the girl next to Pathfinder. Her hair was long and blonde, curling into princess-like ringlets all the way down her back. She was wearing a black jacket that had most likely been stolen from some kind of contraband warehouse or something, because he was sure it was against F.E.A.R.'s dress code. Her feet were clad in boots that were hopefully good for walking in, and she was wearing a white tank top (probably just an undershirt that she had turned into an outer piece).

Her eyes were a green-brown color – like the dying trees, and she was rolling her them with exasperation at Shen.

"Right." Pathfinder shifted her bag onto the other shoulder. "Amborella, meet Shen. Shen, Amborella. Now get to walking. We've got about two days' walk until we get to the last known Legion location."

"What if they're not there?" Amborella asked. Shen picked up his bag and started walking, taking Pathfinder's right flank with Amborella on the other side of their guide.

"Then they'll have left a message for all of the Deviant's kin to find." Pathfinder's bare feet were already covered with dust, making them much lighter than the rest of her well-tanned body. They scuffed the dry dirt, kicking up little plumes that rose into the air like fireworks with each step.

For some reason, Pathfinder had messed up her hair. Not like the slight messing up that comes from a day out running – it was as if she had purposefully ran her hands or brush through her hair, making the black locks stick up from her head like some kind of deranged animal. She had also pushed the mask down over her face, making her virtually unrecognizable. It didn't cover her mouth (it didn't even cover her nose; just had a bird of prey's beak that extended over it), and her lips were pursed in a worried way.

"What's wrong?" Shen asked, struggling to keep up with Pathfinder's long and hurried gait. Both of the girls were taller than him – Amborella being the tallest, but Pathfinder with the quickest pace. Even Amborella was walking/jogging to keep up with the Legionnaire.

Pathfinder looked behind her to the rapidly diminishing town. "I don't know. I just have a feeling like we're being followed."

"That's a bad thing, right?" Shen asked, staring at the city. It looked so small. That was where he'd always lived. He'd gone to academy there for almost ten years. Forner, Theosis, and he had all been born at the same sanatorium. He'd been committed to the Parish there and watched Forner give his vows, too. Theosis was too young, and now he never would get to see him grow old enough to take them.

Amborella was looking back too, her voice soft as she said, "My grandmother turned me in to F.E.A.R."

Pathfinder began walking again, but stopped when she saw the two residents of the city still staring at the brown and black rooftops with sadness and regret.

"Look, Amborella… I'm sorry. My parents' were both turned in by their families, too. But we've just got to move past it. C'mon! You're our little bulletproof angel, right?"

Shen looked at Amborella, trying to see the analogy in the tall girl. Yes, she did look like an angel with her curly blonde hair and petite face. Her lips were very curved nicely and red from her biting down on them, trying to keep the tears from flowing. Shen remembered her barbed tongue from earlier, and he had to admit that she had seemed pretty unbreakable then, but now? He wasn't so sure.

"I'll never get to see my big sister again." Amborella's was even softer now, a mere whisper on the desert wind. The dust swirled around their legs again, teasing them to turn back. It would be so easy to just go home right now. Forner wouldn't have to know that he went to the Legion. Theosis and Shen would never have to be apart again. His parents wouldn't have to say goodbye forever.

Just walk back. He would be back before daytime… before the moon would rise. Shen looked over his shoulder back towards the desert. Nothing but tumbleweeds, cactus, and old wood. There was nothing out there that he could see. Pathfinder said they were out there, and he trusted her.

He looked again at their guide. She had pulled the mask off her face and it was sitting on her forehead, casting shadows onto her tanned face and wild hair. Her brown-black eyes glittered in the hot wilderness sun, scrutinizing them with a predator's gaze.

Her wraparound black cloth… dress…thing was wrapped above her breasts, but not clipped onto her shoulders. The hem barely covered the top of her thighs, but it wasn't sexy as much as she looked dangerous. It was a little stirring to see Pathfinder wearing such a rebellious outfit, but at the same time Shen was sure she could tear his arm off.

"If you want to go home, this is your last chance." She called, her voice almost lost in the wind, even though she was standing right next to them.

Amborella slid her fingers into Shen's. He looked down at their hands in shock, but seeing her hopeful face, he couldn't bring himself to push her away. They both needed each other's support to keep on walking. He needed somebody else going through the same distress he was going through to be right next to him.

Amborella took a shuddering breath, before turning around and walking away from the city, Shen following his clasped hand without complaint, following the girl and guide into further into the wilderness.