Chapter 8

The fire was dying, and Reyn's left arm was beginning to leave trails of blood. Her eyelids fluttered with every step, and she could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. She would collapse soon, she knew. What was this feeling that tugged at her chest and trailed behind her like a beast waiting for its prey to become weak and fall, so it could devour it?

Fear, she thought. She had read about it before, when she was smaller. It was a trick of the mind that humans instilled within themselves and used to take advantage of the weak. The fear that pounds in one's mind and impairs their judgement, the fear that eats away at the minds of humans and causes them to bow before the 'strong'. The fear that stalks all, knows the weaknesses of all it encounters to the very last detail. The fear that kills.

The fear Reyn should not be feeling. What was she afraid of?

Failure, she realized, she didn't wish to let her comrades down.

For the sake of shaking her head clear, she began to think, slowly at first.

She thought of her own life as a child. She thought of her life as a soldier. She thought of the testing she went through.

At the age of fifteen, all Aerugans are given the option to test into a special section of the military; the place where the technology differed greatly. It was a fine faction - in the headquarters, it was almost as elegant as the residence of the Prince. Gold lined the walls, with wonderful paintings or sculptures. Glittering like the moonlight, an innumerable amount of tiny lights - flourescent, she remembered, paraded the border of the ceiling. Pieces of the tanks that failed their test runs were placed in glass containers as if the area was a museum. Inventions the public hadn't caught wind of quite yet, such as aerosol cans and antibiotics, were used almost daily.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?"

Reyn turned sharply, her senses on edge. The torchlight had dimmed to less than a mere candle, the cold end wedged in between her teeth. She could barely see her new companion, though by his voice she could tell it wasn't Matthew.

Whoever it was knew where he was going. Before Reyn could object, he stepped forward and ripped the candlestick from her mouth, snuffing the last bit of light out. They were in the dark.

The stoic girl remained calm, taking the shield from her back with her good arm; she was expecting a fight. Her eyes fluttered shut, as they were useless.

"Hm? You're so quick to judge." The boy seemed to sneer, "Calm down, I'm not gonna kill you... or am I?" He chuckled, a childish snicker that echoed through the tunnels. "Jeez, so tense."

Reyn stiffened slightly, her injured arm pounding in protest. Her time was running out.

But what was this red tint she saw from under her eyelids? Promptly, her eyes flashed open, and she caught sight of a blazing fire as if its holder was an Olympian. The incandescence lit the tunnel instantly, and Reyn's last view was none other than Matthew Fisher, with his chocolate, wavy hair and deep ebony irises.

"Reyn!"

She fell, dead to the world.

...

Reyn was blinded by the bright, white lights when she opened her eyes, and habitually she closed them again. She still felt tiredness wash over her body in waves, commanding her to rest a little more. The covers of the bed were thin, but warm, and she pulled them over her shoulder as she turned over. A tiny yawn escaped her throat.

"Aw, that's kinda cute."

In a split second, the stoic girl turned around to face the one who spoke. She immediately relaxed. "Matthew, sir..." Reyn spoke, "It is relieving to see you."

"Is it?" He smiled. "I... honestly didn't know you could feel that far."

"It is relieving because now I know I haven't let my comrades down." She explained, "The fear is gone." What she said was true; her fears that she felt so close to her in the tunnel had vanished. She was the same stoic soldier that she was when she first met the man. Wasn't she?

She thought back on it, and realized that after socializing, she was indeed not the same as she was when she was when she had first been released into the military. She was, in fact, different, and even she knew. When she was confined, she would not think at all; in fact, she had only discovered the happening of the noises in her mind when she was in the tunnel.

Ironically, she held her head as the sound of a tank crashing exploded in her head. Matthew gasped softly, pushing her back down into the bed. "Go back to sleep."

"Matthew," Reyn ignored him, wide awake now. "How did you fight off the stranger in the tunnel?" The thought suddenly slammed into her. "Or did you escape with me before you could fight?"

Matthew smiled slightly. "You could say that... now go to sleep, Reyn, you're the best part of the team. It'd be sad if you didn't recover soon enough."

She obliged, doing as she was told.

For most people, a dream was a dream; a regular part of life.

For Reyn, though, a dream was a gift from God.