"Julyan Bertrand Heckel, get your sorry ass out the door!"

"That's not my middle or my last name, Granny!"

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

Watching as Siscilla puts all her weight into trying to shove Julyan out the front door, is pretty entertaining. Especially since he barely looks to be putting much effort into standing his ground behind the screen door. He's the only one who has put up a fight and argued against her sudden grand idea: for all of us to go outside and play a game of kick-the-can. I have no idea what that is, but I was already outside and had little choice in the matter. I know how to play tag, but that's it, and I only just learned how to play that when they first brought the orphans to the castle and I outright sucked at it.

Everyone but the royals and Melody are playing, though the mare seems perfectly content to keep Levi and Mira distracted. They're sitting on her back as she trots this way and that, both laughing with blue tongues from the candy they somehow smuggled from the kitchens. Thea claimed to not know how they got the sugary sticks from the top shelf, but I was a witness to her crimes of not so subtly, "accidentally," dropping them on the ground. Sure, I let the children grab two handfuls and run right past me, but I was no more than a bystander to Thea's weakness for pursed lips and fluttering eyelashes.

"Move or I'll drag you by your ear," Siscilla threatens.

"Can you reach that high?"

Siscilla gives a frustrated screech before stepping back abruptly causing Julyan to go tumbling to the ground. I almost feel bad for him that his little rebellion only lasted a minute or so. Almost. He kind of deserves the loud thud that his head makes when it hits the wood floor. He is, after all, acting like a child. Though Lance did warn me that he's prone to such behavior. Even in the House of Jade they'd sometimes find him swinging around the training rooms as if it were a playground. It's absolutely hilarious, but you know you've gone too far when Siscilla takes you by the ankle and drags you down the front porch steps, and then through the dirt to where everyone else waits.

"You're a mule, you know that," Julyan seethes, dusting himself off as he stands.

She gives him a flat look, unimpressed. "Boy, I knew that before you were born. Not wait here and don't test my patience again."

"Where are you going?" He calls after her as she heads back up the porch stairs.

"To get a can so we can play you dipshit!"

"Withered old crone!"

The screen door slams behind her, leaving us to stand in awkward silence. Their banter has become something of a normal occurrence in the passing cycles. It's nice to have something to laugh at every now and then, but it doesn't keep me from remembering all of Fauna's snarky comments. Sometimes I'll find myself replaying certain memories in my head just to hear an inkling of her voice again. It's depressing, but I'm glad that it's keeping everyone's mood up.

"So," Thomas says, breaking the quietness. "What's kick the can?"

"You've never played kick the can?" Thea asks with an astonished expression.

"Us servants don't really get the opportunity to run in the gardens and make normal childhood memories," I tell her, trying not to make my voice as harsh as the sentence sounds. Her falling eyes tell me that I failed.

"Right. Sorry."

"Kick the can is basically tag and hide and seek put together." Both Thomas and I raise an eyebrow at Aillard. We don't know what hide and seek is either. "Gods you two are hopeless."

"Gee, thanks," I say dryly.

I turn to Blight, hoping she'll be more helpful in explaining the concept of the game to us. "To start," she explains, giving both Aillard and Thea a seething glare. "One person is 'it.' The person 'it' will count to fifty - or some other number - while everyone else runs off and hides somewhere. Once the person 'it' finishes counting, they'll go off and try to find, and tag, everyone who's hiding. If you get tagged, you go to jail – or in this case, the porch. In order to free anyone in jail, those who haven't been tagged must avoid the person 'it' and kick the can. The game is over when everyone but one person is in jail, or someone gets tagged three times, at which point, they'll be the next person 'it.'"

"It sounds more complicated than it is," Reynald reassures.

Thomas gives me a doubtful glance, and I'm tempted to agree with him. It took me a few rounds before I understood the gist of tag – and that's a basic run and don't let them touch you. I think I got tagged four times in the five minutes I played. It was sad. And now they expect me to have the ability to hide and run?

Yeah right. Just kill me now.

Siscilla comes out again, placing what looks to be an old soup can in front of the steps. I squint at the can, wondering what would happen if I just sat next to it and let those hiding squat in a bush for an hour or so. That way I don't have to chase anyone, we finally get some peace and quiet, and no one can kick the can and set everyone I somehow tag, free. It's a devious plan.

I'm totally going to do it.

"Alright, who's it first then?" Siscilla asks, smacking her hands together like a mad scientist.

No one answers, as no one wanted to come out and play in the first place. I get that I'm still a teenager, but that doesn't mean that I have the energy to spare for times like this. Heathens no. In times like this, I'd prefer to go back inside and lay on the ground, face down, for no apparent reason. I'm also craving cookies and kidzra, but that could just be my monthly cycle talking.

Speaking of which, I don't think running around a forest of bloodthirsty creatures is something I want to do while I'm...ya know...bleeding out buckets. It'd be like broadcasting a fully stocked buffet. Not to mention that the stomach pains make it difficult to not drop to the ground and roll around in agony. Though if I do that, then maybe I'll have an excuse not to play. Wouldn't last long. Siscilla would wave her hand and then scold me even more than she already did with Julyan.

"I'll be it," Julyan offers. "It's been a while since I've sent chase on something." He wiggles his eyebrows, and I pointedly cringe. I can't tell if he's creepy or funny. It's been a rather foggy grey area since I've been stuck in close proximity to the Jade.

"Quick question-"

"One. Two. Three-"

Everyone goes off in different directions. Some outright sprinting, others not giving a shit, and walking casually.

Great.

I hate this game with a deep, unrelenting, smoldering passion.

First off, my body is nowhere near physically adequate to take on trained assassins, energetic children, men with long legs – pretty much anyone - in a chasing game. I was determined by round two that my best chance at not getting caught, was in hiding, so I put all my effort into blending in with the surrounding shrubbery. Little did I know, I also suck at hiding. It's like the Gods enjoy watching me totally fail at games that even the five-year-old is accomplishing perfectly fine after she joined in.

Blight was the last person to get found last round, and then it was her turn to find and chase down everyone, and apparently, she only had one target. Me.

Three. Times. She's effectively tagged me three times just to prove a point, which means that I'm now the person "it." It's all fun and games until you're looking for everyone, and Julyan being the stupid prick that he is, keeps kicking the can even though no one's in jail. If you ask me, he's going to be seeing Helias sooner than he thought because my eyes are glued to the back of his head as I chase after him.

He thought it was funny to keep kicking the can to annoy me, so I thought it was funny to use Melody to ride on, and then chuck rocks at him every time he got close enough for me to hit him. The Royals didn't seem concerned at all when I hit him square in the head with a rather large stone. In fact, I think I saw Neven smirk and Claritia pursed her lips so she wouldn't laugh. Those stupid formal manners of hers make her less fun in times like this, but I'm also determined to snuff them out of her one way or another. Just like how Fauna did for me.

After clumsily getting down from Melody's back, I hid nearby and then sprinted after him when he got close enough for me to tag him. Him being an assassin and all, he sidestepped my outreached hand, and I've been giving chase ever since.

Since has been a while, and I can feel it. My chest is tightening, my legs beginning to burn and beg for rest, but I'm not giving in until Julyan is on his ass and feeling sorry that he ever pissed me-

There's the ping sound of the can being kicked again, and I turn to find Roseia making a break for it. I stop dead in my tracks, taking a second to run the debate of who to run after before taking off behind the younger girl. She's quick, but both of our short legs leave us at a disadvantage. Though I've already run plenty this round, and she's got the energy to keep a few feet in front of me, I'm not as far off as I was with Julyan.

So we run, and my chase turns into a feeling of...freedom. That's what this feels like. To run through the trees, a chilled wind cooling the sweat on my brow as my tired legs turn to ones that don't want to stop. My arms pump faster, hands latching onto trees here and there to keep myself from slipping or running into them.

It's a release, of a sort, to be moving and feeling as if there's nothing wrong in the world, only the trees surrounding me, the sound of my heart beating life in my ears, and Roseia's laugh echoing beside me.

We run side by side now, with no sound but that of our roars of happiness and quick steps. I don't turn around to see if we're by the cabin. I don't want to go back. I don't want to have to busy myself to keep my thoughts clear, I don't want to put on a smile that feels like one of Lily's masks. I don't want to remember why it is we're here because once I remember, the feeling of being alone turns from a small poke to a full-on punch to the gut. I don't want anything but this. This brazenness. The no worrying or crying whilst looking at a sky full of needless hope.

So I run. I run, and I run, and Roseia doesn't ask to stop, doesn't slow down, or breath heavy. She keeps pace, and as we reach the barren clearing filled with the ashes of Darius's outburst, I close my eyes and let the wind tell me the stories of its own making. It beckons and howls, cries, and sings. It's the pull of the world, and yet...

I slow my pace, stopping where the tree line starts again. They're all bent backward, leaning back as if Darius's wind is still trying to bend and break them. I stare at them, waiting for one of them to snap like a twig and show me that even something with roots can't be anchored down forever. Even running, feeling more at ease than I have in cycles, I still feel myself near breaking. Not physically, though I'm likely to be sore tomorrow, but emotionally. I've bottled so many of them up that it feels like one wrong move will have it exploding all into one huge catastrophe. Kind of like how Darius blew up here.

I could scream. Scream until my voice left me and my stomach was turning on its side. I could, but I won't, because keeping things to myself has been all I've ever done and all I've ever known. I've only expressed my feelings – my true feelings – to Lance, and it felt so wrong to do so at first, but the more I talked, the easier it got, but it's still not easy with anyone else.

Now...now I don't even know what's going through my head. I can't keep track of them, can't keep up with them just as I couldn't keep up with Julyan. And if I do catch up to them, well...

Breathing heavily, I turn around and find Roseia sitting on a rock that managed to survive the elemental storm. It's covered in black soot, which means her pants are going to be layered in it when she stands. We have clothes but washing them is the tough part. There's no nearby water source, and all the water we have is going toward keeping us hydrated and somewhat clean. At least it's only her second pair. We should have another that'll fit her somewhere. Or she could change into her dress from five cycles ago. We packed supplies, but only food and water and a few other essentials to keep us all alive. Clothes weren't one of them, and packing outfits for everyone wasn't really a priority. Lance said it'd be unnecessary weight to carry, and it sounded right at the time, but with everyone's constantly dirty clothes it's no wonder we've all grown accustomed to the stench of the forest.

"We should head back," I call to her in between my recovering wheezes. The price for freedom seems to be my lack of ability to do so for long.

She doesn't respond. Instead, she now breathes heavily with her head in her hands. At least I'm not the only one who's out of shape – though I never really was in shape, to begin with. Unless perfectly round counts, then I'd be in perfect shape.

I start walking toward her, dragging my feet through the ashes to try and uncover the dirt beneath them. It doesn't work, only revealing more black and darkness, but I try anyway. I could care less for my own cleanliness at the moment. If I'm being honest, the black stuff is actually comforting in a weird way. I don't know what it is, and it's starting to creep me out that I'm so okay with it.

Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I look back up to Roseia. She's still hunched on the rock, her breathing not seeming to have calmed down despite the rest. My brows knit together at the faint light seeming to come from her hands. It looks like...sunlight - but not quite the same warm coloring that sunlight has. It's more cool-toned, nearing a white that could be instantly blinding if you looked at it.

"Roseia-"

The light from her hand flares, making me flinch and shut my eyes. Definitely brighter than sunlight. I reach blindly towards her, only to be thrown off my feet, nothing but the wind and a searing scream filling my ears before I hit something, my whole body ringing with the impact, and then darkness.