Beep........beep........beep.

"She's responding. She has a pulse now," a voice says.

Beep...beep...beep.

"It's speeding up, her blood pressure is back to normal, and she's breathing better. Now all we have to do is wait for her to wake up," the same voice says.

I become vaguely aware that that voice is familiar, and I can feel someone holding my hand.

I open my eyes to reveal familiar faces beside me. "You're alive!" Peter shouts, nearly crushing my already weak body with a hug. I groan in pain, and he lets go. "Sorry," he apologizes. I see Cassia next to me, wearing a doctor's coat and writing down medical things down on a clipboard. "Welcome back to the land of the living," she says.

Judging by the amount of injured people in here, I come to the conclusion that I'm in the healers' tent. Funny that I can't remember how I even ended up in here. Noticing the oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, I remove it and try to sit up. "No, you sit back down," Cassia orders. I do as she says, but I don't put the mask back on.

"What...what happened?" I barely get out, almost as if my voice has failed me. All I can remember is heat and fire and...burning. Then it all went black. "You tried to go against someone with the power of elements, and things went wrong. You lost in mere seconds, and he was burning you before we could register what was happening. We've healed most of your wounds, but you'll have scars on your arms and legs," Cassia explains. I look at my arms, and my heart drops into my stomach.

The skin is pink and raw on the inside of my forearm, and just looking at it brings me pain. I look down at my legs, hoping to see some improvement, but it's only worse. A large scar begins at my knee, circles around my calf, and trails down my ankle. On the opposite leg, a particularly bad scar is branded on my shin.

"They'll fade over time," Cassia encourages. I however, don't even smile at her optimism. I'm in too much pain. The memories begin to come back, and I can remember people fighting on top of the ones who were already dead. "H-how...many?" I ask, hoping one of them will know what I mean. "Let's just say that our camp population isn't what it used to be," Peter says solemnly.

I simply drop my gaze and let the tears fall down my face, afraid to know who didn't make it. It is then when I remember Susan slumped unconscious during the fight. I struggle to get up as I say, "Where's...Susan?"

"You need to rest," Cassia protests. "Where is she?" I fiercely respond, my voice coming back. "Julia," she protests. "You will not tell me to rest while I don't know where she is or if she's even ok. I ask you again, where is Susan?" I demand.

Cassia just sighs and begins to explain. "She's not dead, but she's in critical condition. During the fight, someone with the power of agility ambushed her and attacked her weak points," she explains. "Weak points?" I ask. "There are certain parts of the body that, if hit directly on the pressure point, can shut down and leave you incapacitated. She got hit on a nerve behind the knee, under her ribcage, and around her collar bone. Her limbs gave out, and she couldn't move; that made her an easy target, and she almost got killed because of it," Cassia explains.

"Is she going to be ok? I know you said she's in critical condition, but she's going to live, right?" I ask. "She should be alright. Besides, someone's been looking out for her nonstop," Cassia says with a smile. "Who?" I question. "You'll see," She replies.

A moment of silence passes, but I have too many questions to keep quiet. "What happened after I blacked out?" Cassia drops her gaze and says in a solemn voice, "It's not something I want to discuss. A lot of things happened in that library; people were killed, and I saw it happen. I don't want to relive it."

I nod, understanding how she feels. "Can you at least tell me how many we lost? Peter says it was a lot, but I want numbers," I request. "We started off camp with 132 people; we now have 57," Cassia grieves.

To whatever mental shield that kept me from breaking down, it crumbled right then and there. We swore to ourselves that no one else was going to die, that we weren't going to put anyone else in this kind of danger. And what was this all worth in the end? Some books and blueprints? I have to fight the urge to break my restraints and burn everything we gathered at that library.

"You'll have to excuse me," Cassia says, tears starting to slip down her face. I let her go, not wanting to know any more of the horrors of today. To deal with the pain, I slip out of reality and become transparent. Not to run away or hide, just to stop feeling so much pain. It doesn't work though; I have too much pain already to let go.

So instead when the healers aren't looking, I get up and slip out of the tent. When I step outside, faces of teary eyes and blotched faces from those who have weeped over the death's of their loved ones turn to me. What now? What have we accomplished? Questions I don't have the answers for.

So instead, I do what I do best: I run. Run away from this sadness further into the woods, the sounds of snapping twigs under my shoes reminding me of the broken hearts of those who lost the ones they loved. I sit down on an old tree-stump, and then I wait. Waiting for what, I'm not sure. Perhaps I'm waiting to wake up from a bad dream, or waiting for something good to happen. No avail on either one of those though.

It is then when I remember Natalie's locket around my neck. I take it off and examine it, wondering how these few words can rid me of my powers. For a moment, I was grateful for them. Now, I want them gone more than I ever have before.

So I then make my final decision: why not take them away? "Give everything away and you will be free," I begin. "Just as you were always intended..." I start to choke on the last two words. "To b-" "Don't do it!" A voice yells, preventing me from finishing the lines.

I turn my head around, only to see Adam right behind me. "When did you get here?" I ask. "I was already here! You were the one who came in to give your power away!" He yells. After a moment of silence, I say, "That wasn't my intention...it just brought itself up."

"Give me the locket," he demands. "No," I fire back. "Save us both this violent argument and just hand it over," he retorts. "I don't think so," I say. "I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid. Hand it over," he says again.

Instead, I just put it back around my neck. "Fat chance," I spit back. Adam just shakes his head and sighs, knowing full well that I am probably the worst person to argue with. "Why do you do this? What could it possibly solve?" He demands. I stare angrily at him while I spit out my answer. "I'm not looking to solve anything. All I know is that I never wanted these powers in the first place, and this is a way to get rid of them."

"Instead of thinking why you don't want them, think of how many times they've saved you from trouble! They saved you from getting shot at the jail courtyard, they allowed you to hide from danger, they've saved you from your enemies countless times, and you've used them to find those you seek. You've gotten used to them, and I honestly believe that taking them away will be like starting your life all over again," Adam says.

Taking his words into consideration, I think of a solution. "I'll keep them until the war's over. But if I'm still alive at the end of this, I'm through with them."
Adam just drops his head in defeat.
This is the only thing he can't see sense in.

Tired of the awkward silence, I change the subject. "Are you ok? You know...after everything that happened at the library," I ask, afraid to hear the answer. He looks up at me, tears in their beginning stage of formation in his eyes. "No, I'm not ok. This all happened on my watch, and now these people are dead. I'll heal in time, but now's just not the best time to talk about it," he answers, his voice hollow and sad.

"So why are you here then? Dwelling on the situation alone won't make it any better. I'm really sick of having these conversations, but I honestly think I'm the one to blame. I'm the one who brought Tatum into camp, so I'm to blame for this whole thing. I don't want any questions, suggestions, or objections to that sentence because we both know it's true," I spit at him.

Adam, heavy-hearted and sick of arguing, gets up and starts walking away. "Where are you going?" I ask. "I'm going to camp, and I'm going to give my sincerest apologies to the families who lost loved ones. The apology will be in my name, not yours," he says, still not blaming me when I am obviously the one to blame.

In my frustration, I decide to head back to camp as well, but I don't go on the path Adam does. I'm tired of fighting, and fighting will only trigger bad memories from the library. If only I had the power to forget.