Chapter Ten

Everything is ready. The second Merle arrived home for the first time, she called Blake to tell him everything.

"Good. But what took you? I was getting worried."

She rolled her eyes. "Just their stupid debriefing process so I can 'join' the Guard. They kept me in Athens and interrogated me."

"I can't believe they're so stupid," he said wonderingly.

"Well, they're too trusting. They actually think there's good in everyone! The thought!"

Blake chuckled. "Trusting, stupid, it's all the same. So, are you going on a mission yet? Or is it too soon?"

"Well, that girl who was assigned to Train me—Neriah, one of the Named—has been thoroughly convinced by me that I don't need any Training, which is true. I can contain my powers perfectly well. So it should be soon, once you lot open a portal first..."

The next day, Merle had had the pleasure of calling Blake again to tell him:

"You told Midori to open that portal, didn't you?" she asked.

"Is there a problem?"

"Stroke of brilliance, more like."

"I know." He replied smugly. "It's about time I saw you again."

"Blake, you know it'd look suspicious if—"

"Which is why I had to portal opened. Don't underestimate me."

She laughed. "Never."

"I take it we won't be able to talk again until then?"

"'Fraid not. See you then."

"Definitely."

Merle sits on her quilted blanket nervously, kicking her legs against the bed. Neriah had said that she needs to be asleep by 8:00. She glances at the clock again: 7:58. But she can't sleep! Am I nervous? But I've been on so many missions before! Or…do I feel bad? Is that it? But how could I?

Because they trust you, a nagging voice in her head reminds her.

How? I was—am—a top-ranking member! How could they…

Because they do. They're the good guys.

Good guys! They killed Lathenia! Luke! Saryn!

They were only trying to protect history.

But…but…we're just trying to fix the world! Look at how messed up it is!

And just why, do you think, is that?

Could it really be…us?

Strangely, it's those last thoughts that linger in her head, making her fall asleep…

A lovely feeling of weightlessness fills her, then…

Thud.

"OW!"

Soft giggles meet Merle's ears as she opens her eyes. "Neriah," she grumbles.

"I'm sorry! But—you—the floor—it's so!"

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles, picking herself of off the floor. It's then that she notices the room they're in. It seems like a lovely forest glade, by a crystal river, but at the same time, a light mist is filling the room.

"Wow…"

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Neriah asks, walking over to Merle gracefully. "But mist…that's strange…" she wrinkles her delicate nose. "That signifies…I can't remember exactly…but something like clouding of the senses, confusion, misplaced trust. Strange…"

Merle gulps nervously. "I…guess…"

Neriah shakes her head, smiling. "But enough of that! I trust you remember what we went over for the Citadel?"

"Yes…but wait," Merle says as a thought strikes her. "Wasn't the Citadel destroyed?"

"Yes. But the Tribunal's combined powers were enough to restore it."

So quickly…they're so…formidable…

Neriah smiles at Merle's stray thought. "They're really all quite nice. Now follow me."

She leads Merle out of the lovely room into another, which is full of medieval French clothes for the mission.

"Neriah? Primrose?"

Merle stiffens as Neriah, giggling softly, says, "Over here, Ethan."

A tall, dark-haired boy with piercing blue eyes emerges from the racks of clothing. "Hello," he says with a small smile. "Ready to go to France?"

"Hi, I'm Merle," Merle responds woodenly.

"Merle?" he asks, confused. "I thought they said—"

"Call me Merle."

"O...kay. So, ladies first," he gestures at the racks.

"Go ahead, Merle," Neriah says.

"Um. Right. Just walk through?"

"Yeah."

Merle walks through apprehensively; when she comes out, she finds herself in a rough, brown cotton top that loosely fits, a similar long skirt, and simple sandals. Her hair is now a light, reddish-auburn, and it flows down to her waist; her skin is brown, like she's been in the sun a lot.

Neriah comes out next. She's clad in a top and skirt similar to Merle's, both of which are gray, but seem to be of a slightly finer material that Merle's outfit. She's also browner, with matching rough, calloused hands. Her normally soft features are harsher, too, suitable for a French peasant.

Finally, Ethan comes out. He is wearing matching beige trousers, vest, and shirt, with the shirt sleeves rolled up. He looks now as though he spends a lot of time in the sun, his brown hair lightened with strands of almost-blonde. "Not bad," he jokes, looking at Merle and Neriah. "Although I have to say, I do prefer your souls' true forms."

"Oh, shush, Ethan," Neriah chides. "Merle must be nervous."

Merle just smiles—nervously.

"All right, all right…ready for the next room, then?"

They all troop to the next room, where they're all sprinkled with multi-coloured dust. Surprisingly, Merle suddenly feels much more comfortable in the get-up, her nervousness starting to dissipate.

"I am Dione, a simple farmer of the Barrois countryside. And you two?"

"Cosette," Merle says tentatively. "Your—oh!" she blushes.

"What is it?" Neriah asks.

"The Citadel," Ethan simply grins.

"Your…fiancée…" Merle finishes, barely audibly.

"Ah. And I'm Zoë, your loving sister, Etha—Dione." Neriah finishes, with an elegant curtsey. "OK, Merle,"she says. "Now we leap."

"Le—leap? You never mentioned leaping," Merle accuses.

"Didn't I?" Neriah asks. "I thought I did…"

"I forgot to tell Isabel that, too," Ethan points out thoughtfully. "You just get so used to it, I guess."

"But…" I don't like heights. I don't like heights. At least in the labyrinth, it's more of a trapdoor than anything else…

Neriah smiles gently at Merle's nervous thoughts. "Don't worry about it, Merle. It's not that bad, promise."

"I'm not afraid!" Merle says defensively.

Ethan chokes, coughing very…fakely, a huge grin on his face. Merle scowls at him.

"Well, anyway," Neriah says hurriedly, "we do need to get going. Time isn't measured in this place."

Grudgingly, Merle follows Neriah and Ethan into yet another room. It's mostly empty, save for a large door on the opposite wall, which is wide open. She gulps. Through it, she can see only swirling mist and shadows.

Oh the joy…

"Ready?" Neriah asks, walking over to the doorstep.

"Just close your eyes and jump," Ethan offers helpfully.

"Right."

Neriah smiles encouragingly before jumping through the doorway.

"Do you want me to jump with you?" Ethan asks worriedly, noticing Merle's frozen state.

"Erm. No." She says slowly, thankful that her tan hides her blush.

"Then…why aren't you moving?"

"I'm…waiting for you to jump."

"So you want to go last."

"Yes," Merle says defiantly.

"Sorry, no can do. You can't run away."

"I won't run."

"Then jump."

"I need to collect myself for—AHHHHHH!" she screams, as Ethan pushes her through the door.

Only Merle and Blake belong to me! Oh NO...what are those two up to now?