The Wastelands

Chapter 24 - 20

Lilia was trying to sleep when she heard footsteps coming nearer.

'Well, what is this?' No one usually came this way. That was one of the reasons why it was her favorite sleeping spot.

She opened her cyan eyes and almost rolled them in exaggeration.

There, walking towards her, was a bunch of Red Sashes dragging along a blue sash girl.

They had that smirk that said, it is time to show the newbie why it is better to be a red sash.

"Ha, Blue Sash, get up," sneered one of the Red Sashes.

Lilia could only sigh. But she did as she was told. Usually, she just ignored them, but that girl looked terrified.

She stretched, then pulled her headphones off that was hanging around her neck. She didn't want Stella to yell at her for breaking yet another set of headphones.

"Ha, guys, what this about," Lilia asked, casually.

Lilia glanced at the red sashes and sighed again. They were all Vine survivors. They were tougher and quicker, so it would be an even harder job not to hurt them.

"Let's show the newbie how this school works." Another Red Sash clenched his fist and moved toward Lilia with purpose.

Lilia moved at the last moment watching as his fist slammed into the tree instead of her face. 'Ow looks painful.'

He screamed out in pain. It didn't stop the others from moving in. "You little…"

One kicked from her left, while another punched from her right. Lilia moved, and they crashed into each other, arms and legs everywhere.

Lilia moved to avoid their pouches and kicks while used their momentum against them. All while using a minimal amount of touching. It was more Druid's style of fighting than her own direct, instinctive fighting, and it wasn't as graceful, but it worked.

She was bored to death.

Then she felt that she was being watched. Lilia noticed then that Stella and that man. Statson, was it? They were both standing next to the blue sash girl. Statson didn't step forward to help, but Lilia didn't mind; she didn't need his help with these idiots. A couple of moments later, the fight was over, and the Red Sashes fell in exhaustion at her feet.

"See, little girl, how she uses their strength against them without exhausting herself? These tactics work best with a bigger opponent and small group. They both underestimate their opponents. So, you better observe and use this as a building block for your training," Statson advised, crouching down to speak eye to eye with the blue sash girl.

The girl watched with wide eyes, taking his advice to heart. "Yes, Sir."

"Sergeant, not Sir." Statson stepped up and yelled at the Red Sashes. "Get going, or I have a mind to tell your commanding officer of your shenanigans. Now get."

The Red Sashes scrambled away, and the blue band girl did the same, but not before bowing and saying her thanks.

"Thank you, Sir," Lilia said, glad that he made a point to give advice to the blue band girl.

"Sergeant, not Sir," Statson stated, his turned changed from a gentle one to a growl. "You didn't need any help, but you're certainly going to need help from me as soon as I get through with you."

She glanced at Stella for some help. She was still a little tired so that she couldn't process things as well as usual.

Stella mouthed, 'your new team leader.'

Light bulbs flashed. 'That note!' She knew she should have shown up to that meeting. Then she gulped when she saw the furious look that the cowboy hat guy was giving her. His thoughts are really menacing.

She stood at attention.

"I am Sergeant Statson, your team leader. After I get through with you, you are never going to miss another training session ever again," he barked at her. "Now, where the hell is that Shadow boy?"

She put her feelers out and got nothing. 'Well, that is odd.' Come to think of it. Lilia hadn't noticed him in a while; Shadow usually hadn't disappeared for this long. 'This is bad.'

"He is not here, Sir," Lilia was worried.

"Sergeant, not Sir. Then where the hell is he?"

"This is not good, not good," whispered Stella. She has been around long enough to know what Shadow was truly like.

The Sociopath just slipped his leash.

***

Druid was running around and around the training gym, having a good old time; training came easily to her. It wasn't surprising to Rachel at all; she saw Druid dance at the Representative Party. She danced beautifully.

Without warning, Druid stumbled and fell flat on her face.

Rachel rushed over. "Are you all right?"

Druid got up slowly, and there was near panic in her eyes. "No, Bryson. No!" she whispered in a panic. "Get out, please get out!"

"What are you saying?" Rachel asked, her eyebrows furrowing together. It felt like Druid didn't know that Rachel was there like she was trapped in her mind, seeing something that she didn't want to see.

"It's too late, too late!" she sobbed. Smoke and sparks were streaming off of her.

Rachel stepped back. "Hay." Rachel didn't know that much about Lumeye's abilities, but it looked like Druid was trying to teleport but failing.

Rachel watched on helplessly as Druid kept on repeating. "It's too late!"

***

Books surrounded Bryson. And that was how he liked it. Books were the centre point of knowledge. Everything started and ended with a book. History, Science, Fantasy, Fiction, it didn't matter. Every book had a basis of truth, and thus there was something to learn from it.

Especially nowadays, books in readable condition were not common and must be cherished. Books were Bryson's haven, his place to read uninterrupted by the human masses that frequented the compound. Even though he was superior in every way to all that human garbage, but he couldn't fault them for their creation of books.

He was still seething about what had occurred with Headmistress Weatherly and… Lilia, that bitch. That lazy, good-for-nothing female. He was so much better than her in every way.

Bryson breathed in the sweet smell of knowledge, and he instantly calmed down. It was not the time for this. It was best to leave those kinds of thoughts at the library's entrance. It was time to indulge in his p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e of books.

Bryson removed his gloves and placed his hand carefully on top of the book. He closed his eyes.

One of the things he liked about his ability was that he could see not only the words but the author who had written them. It didn't matter whether the author had touched this specific book or not. The author's very presence etched in every word. Their experiences, their impressions, their struggles, and much, much more. 'How interesting, how interesting, indeed.'

And with his near-perfect memory, he would never forget any of it.

Bryson was so absorbed with the written word that he almost missed the disturbance.

"Who's there?" he called out.

Then a whisper: "Oh, Bryson, I never would have guessed that there is something other than your love for Druid that was redeemable. Do wonders never cease?"

"You." The all-too-familiar voice and shape took form. But something was wrong. Bryson's instincts were screaming at him to get away; Bryson's ignored them. He wasn't Lilia, after all.

Bryson would realize later that ignoring his instincts was a huge mistake.

His hand grasped the hilt at his side. He asked, "Why are you here?"

"It is of no importance. I merely decided that you will be first." Then the form moved swiftly towards Bryson, and he grasped his element of water to guard, knowing that hesitating might be his downfall.

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