Disclaimer: Song and lyrics belong to Trapt.
So disconnected, everything goes over your head
So disconnected, you got me hangin' by a thread
So disconnected, when will this cycle end?
It's too hard to just move on
It's easier said then done
"Farraige!"
Giggles, barely stifled.
"Farraige. I know you're there; I can hear you."
The girl froze, turning to her partner in crime with wide, frantic eyes. He smiled mysteriously, taking her hand and gently pulling her away, stepping quickly and lightly. She followed his steps exactly, not wanting to be caught. She wasn't, however, nearly as good as he, at least not in stealth; her step faltered and snapped a twig. They stopped momentarily in surprise before quickly moving on.
No, no, no, they couldn't get caught now! They'd come so far, done so much—
A larger, slender hand closed firmly on hers. Startled, she whipped around to face the intruder of her personal space—blue eyes, blue locks.
"Gotcha," came the young woman's voice, softly, teasingly.
x x x x
They ran.
Tch, cowards, she thought. Really, now, they were Chasers! They didn't go through all that leadership training for nothing! It certainly wasn't to teach them to run.
"H-Have you named it?" Farraige asked as she struggled to hold it off. Dark blue eyes glared into her own, the defiance within them speaking volumes, but not quite giving her the answer she wanted.
"Faded Mirage," she answered finally, honey blonde hair waving in the breeze.
"Faded Mirage?" A nod. "Hmm… Did you make it?" The glare suddenly intensified.
"But I can't do that—you said it yourself," she spat.
"Then who did make it?" Farraige asked patiently.
"Who do you think?" she snapped, throwing Crux of Hope off of her blade and spinning on her heel. As she walked away, Faded Mirage disappeared in a flash of white.
x x x x
Together, they ran.
Farraige laughed heartily—she'd told him they'd be friends. She watched as they fought playfully, brimming with mirth and bliss.
Farraige was never wrong.
She ran after them until all three could run no more and collapsed on a flat, dusty rock, staring up into the sky. They laughed and pointed out shapes in the clouds: a puppy here, a hat there, a cute little mouse waaay over there—
it won't be like this forever
—a heart overhead…
She froze. She was wrong,
it'll never last
she had to be.
Farraige was never wrong.
x x x x
"So who made it for you? Or did you steal it?" Those words bit deep, she could tell. He winced at her side.
"You can't steal—"
"Anything can happen." A cold, defiant stare oozed from those dark blue eyes. "So? Who made it? And tell the truth this time."
"I was!" The echo took forever to fade—the stern crack of skin on skin was loud, indeed.
"You stole it, didn't you?" She mumbled a reply. "What was that?"
"Ven made it!" she shrieked, summoning Faded Mirage in her fury. Farraige rushed to hold her back, calm her down, but he stopped her. She rounded on him.
"What—" She stopped, noticing his expression. "Ven…" she whispered.
"And just how does a failure like you know a prodigy like him?" the teacher scoffed, stubbornly refusing to yield.
x x x x
A sigh.
"You three are our soldiers. The Chasers only provide you with what you need, nothing more. The only reason they're taught to fight is to find others like you. We need you to do this for us." Dull brown eyes turned to face the duo. "Why doesn't she want to help?"
"She doesn't want to face responsibility," Talamh said solemnly, blue eyes gleaming sadly. The elder looked at him in surprise; the boy had finally spoken for the first time.
"Breacadh hasn't been the same since she heard about them," she added. "None of us have."
"She doesn't think she'd do any good—everyone knows how low her confidence level is." He paused, locking his eyes on the instructor's. "She firmly believes she'd fail, just like they did." He was worried; they all were. Talamh averted his gaze, instead looking out the window in the direction she'd fled. "She thinks it's pointless to try."
x x x x
Together, they ran.
They had to find her; they had to make sure she was okay.
As luck would have it, she was there. Her honey blonde hair blew in her face as she stood on top of the flat, dusty rock, staring out into the distance with tears threatening to escape the threshold of her azure eyes. They slowed, looking up at her worriedly.
Farraige took a step forward, lips beginning to form her name until he stopped her. Reluctantly, she stood back as he took the initiative, closing the distance between them and barely touching a finger to her shoulder before getting a reaction.
"Get away!" she shrieked, snatching his wrist and immediately tossing it back at him. "Get away!"
"Brea—" he began.
"Stop being selfish, Breac!" Farraige shouted defiantly. "We all have to deal with it, not just you!"
The children stood for a while, the elder two staring at her back.
"At least… you didn't see it," Talamh said finally, breaking the prolonged silence. "She did."
"But I did see it!" she protested. "I did! He's gone, and he's never coming back!"
"But he's not—"
"You said he froze, Farri! You saw it; we both did! He froze! No one lives after being froze!" Tears finally breaking free, Breacadh took off once more, running far away from her fellow students.
A silent laugh rang through Farraige's mind.
i told you it would never last
Her hands flew to her head, failing to quiet the noise inside.
shut up shut up shut up
Just once, she wanted to be wrong. The laugh echoed once more as the voice took on a mocking sing-song tone.
you can't make me
Farraige was never wrong.
x x x x
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—" the headmaster paused for dramatic effect, "—the Chasers of tomorrow!"
Fire suddenly blasted into existence—the emerald curtains hiding the performers of the graduating class burned, bottom to top, until there was nothing left. One girl appeared on each side of the stage, amazing the crowds with their elaborate costumes: they both wore sheer blue fabrics as their dresses with the bottoms cut ragged, metallic blue cords at their waists. It was impossible to tell if there were sleeves—indeed, their skin was painted a deep metallic blue and their wavy hair given the same treatment. At their wrists were wisps of the sheer blue that covered the hands, further disguising any possible sleeves. Beaded chains of white orbs twisted their way around the girls' bodies as if they were trying to mold together; a single white teardrop decorated their foreheads. Bright, sapphire eyes were open wide so the spectators could see the whites, but dismissed it as the pearly beads, so perfect were the colors. Their faces tilted up as they watched the flames crackle, mouths open slightly to take in the air. They wore no shoes to protect against the smoldering ashes; they needed none. They were the Ladies of Ice and Water—they weren't afraid of the fire. The fire was afraid of them. They both released a feral yell as they spun and stopped again, throwing powerful Water spells skyward. The flames vanished, recognizing and fleeing before their power.
Reflect lit the stage further as the girls disappeared, just as quickly as they'd come. The spell faded to reveal a group of young men clad in red stomping down the center, two on either side trailing after the one in the middle, a simple golden circlet decorating his forehead. The monarch brusquely flung out his right arm, forcing those on that side to stumble away and turn back viciously to face him. The maneuver was repeated for his left, with the same results. The traitors on either side rushed to attack, halting in their efforts as lighting surrounded their target. Four more girls ran out, two from each end, to challenge the two men opposite them. The battles began with Thunder and Fire spells being thrown, the lone man watching and dodging when necessary.
A grand bolt struck out, hitting naught but his Reflect. The fighting ceased as the woman herself strutted down the golden center steps with sunny hair flowing behind her, smirking in her confidence and anticipation. She was dressed as her subjects—save the feathered eye-mask she wore as her crown. A long saffron dress covered her tall frame with a slit down the side to show off her slender legs, complete with heeled shoes to match the silken garment. Golden eyes gleamed at the man as she finally reached the area's innermost point and extended a gloved hand to him, sinister smile widening so. Her malevolent laugh rand out when he recoiled in distaste and she turned to leave, but suddenly spun back around to shoot a bolt straight at his chest.
He barely managed to evade her attack, and the battle ensued between the monarchs as their underlings fled. The ones of legend fought fiercely, each knowing they could not afford a loss.
A blast of wind threw the man off his feet; the Bird of Thunder merely turned to face the culprit as he stepped out of hiding. White hair, gray eyes—once her friend, now her enemy. She turned back to the Monarch of Fire as he got to his feet and looked again to the intruder as she shot a powerful bolt his way. His wispy, silvery clothes were merely grazed as he disappeared with another blast of air.
As the woman turned, a Fire spell came flying toward her. But before it reached her, another gust fully extinguished its flames. Her smirk resurfaced and her laugh echoed once more and she threw yet another Thunder at him, the blow landing square on his chest and leaving a dark, singed mark on his crimson attire. He struggled to rise from the heap in which he'd landed, red sparks crackling at his fingertips. The Bird of Thunder laughed again as she mounted the stairs, looking back with a triumphant smile before turning to leave with one last bolt of Thunder.
The Ladies of Ice and Water danced their way onstage, meeting each other with a dramatic clasping of hands and an ornamental fluttering of eyes. They separated to reach their opposite locations, eyes again wide open. They cared not for the Monarch, lying defeated on the ground; they summoned an enormous amount of water and threw it in the air where the curtains once hung, freezing it all into an opaque barrier with a well-timed Blizzard.
The crowd roared with approval until the headmaster calmed them by saying, "What a grand performance by our most elite students! Perhaps it was the best yet—there have never been two Key Bearers in one class before! Give it up for the fierce Monarch of Fire and the elegant Bird of Thunder—salutatorian and valedictorian—Talamh and Farraige!"
x x x x
The young girl cringed in her sleep, the nightmare encasing her small body in chills. Her blue eyes were squeezed tightly shut as she released another groan. She tossed more and more until finally, she opened her mouth and screamed.
On the other end of the home, a pair of eyes snapped open, revealing the cobalt irises beneath the lids. A mother sprang from her recumbent state, struggling to quickly untangle herself from the sheets. She sprinted down the hall toward her daughter's room, throwing the door open when she finally reached it.
She sighed in relief; there weren't any intruders. But look—she was trembling.
The woman didn't notice the cooing sound she instinctively began to make as she gently wrapped her arms about the girl in an attempt to soothe her. Tears leaked from the tightly squeezed eyes.
"Shh, shh. It'll be okay," she said softly.
"No, it won't!" she shrieked, violently pulling away from her mother. "It won't be okay! Something happened to Auntie Aqua! Something bad!"
She froze; her heart skipped a beat. She knew of her daughter's power.
Farraige was never wrong.