Her journey had been a long one. Indigo had traveled far since her encounter with Bent, for nearly a month. The Scarred Lands were massive, a hunk of country that would take multiple months to cross on foot. In her travels she experienced the Scarred, the people who grant these fields the name, cursed and damaged by their tainted biology.

She passed through a small village and saw the fear in a young girl's eyes in the moonlight, looking up at her. Indigo paused, soon recognizing that kind of look. Like a mortal seeing their death approach without any way to stop it. The girl had slashes of scars across her face, a small golden dog in her arms.

Indigo took a step closer, watching the child shiver.

She smiled. "Nice scars, kid."

Soon after, village after village, Indigo noticed the fear that met her. It appeared as though the reality of her existence had successfully spread. Her image was known by many, and with the interconnected social and trading network of the Scarred, news traveled fast.

"En-Maer," the people whispered. She heard it everywhere. The towns she stopped in for food would serve her, if only to appease and not anger her in fear of being cursed or gruesomely killed by her hellish powers.

En-Maer. The Divine Tongue for "Roaming Death." The belief, it seemed, was that she was a plague, ready to explode at any moment. However, this made things slightly easier. She wasn't certain what sorts of plans the Divine Force had for her... but all she knew was that she wasn't being hunted. She wasn't being pursued, as far as she could tell. Because it was clear now that she was untouchable. Unkillable. And she could kill anyone at any time with ease.

There were only a couple hundred more miles to go before Shieldhome, assuming there was no trouble along the way. Her boots crunched against dirt and her cloak warmed her in the chill of the afternoon air. The Scarred Lands were, indeed, beautiful despite the name. Between Gnosh and Shadowrock, her next destination, there was nothing but field and open sky. This country was gorgeous when you strayed away from main cities and fortress-homes with their ugly walls of stone and steel. The Scarred Lands were all nature. And, despite the fear that surrounded her, she felt somewhat comfortable among these people.

The day was ending, however, and she would need to set up camp off the road. Her pack was full of supplies she had picked up along the way, whether it was properly paid for or taken out of desperation. A bed roll was stuffed in her cloth backpack along with some liquid fire, only enough for one more night. In the side pocket was a pouch of gold coins she had picked off a road bandit who thought he was going to have a lucky day. At her hip was an iron blade, dulled and unkept, as no blacksmith would take her business as she would "taint the steel."

She made her way off the trail, far away, dipping down a hill into a decent area surrounded by mounds of Earth. It would provide a small amount of protection from wind as well as hide her away from the occasional passerby. The only thing that would give her away would be the smoke from her fire.

The sky faded into orange and gold hues as Indigo sat down, removed her pack, then her belt which held her sheathed weapon, and sprawled herself out onto the grass. The afternoon was cold. She shivered and removed the vial of liquid fire, uncorking it and leaning forward, carefully positioning it while the sun provided some light.

Slowly, she poured it out in a circular motion. The contents were thick and dark and smelled like ash. The liquid-molasses-hybrid stirred and twitched in its circular form before it spread out to fill the empty center. Indigo stepped back and watched the substance flash bright for a second until the edges solidified into what looked like black stone and the center was sizable fire, instantly melting the cold away from her hands when she stuck them out in front of her.

She exhaled slowly and inched closer, crossing her legs and losing herself in the dancing, hot light. She pulled out a hunk of bread from the other pocket of her bag and tore away a hard piece, gradually grinding it up between her teeth. A soft breeze flowed over the hills and down into her camp. It wasn't uncomfortable, especially with the warmth of the flames. Glowbugs popped in and out of existence, filling the area with a soothing aura.

Aura. She thought of her own aura. The one that did, in fact, give off a plague of death. She shivered from the chill of memory.

The way J'son stared at her all those years ago. The way her Gift had ricocheted death onto Kila. The feeling of her own heart shattering. The feeling of J'son's hands trying to hurt her.

She tore away more pieces of bread when her mind shook away the reminder. Larger and larger hunks, swallowing them whole, wanting to choke and die. But when she almost did, she lunged herself forward and spat out the piece that nearly got lodged in her throat.

"You idiot," she told herself. She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve and placed her palms upon the ground. Some poor stranger would die if she did such a thing. And who knew when someone would stumble upon her body for that to happen? Not only would she kill yet another innocent person... but she would lose so much time that could be spent on getting to Shieldhome.

No... she had to focus her anger on her goals. She had to end the world as it's been known. So something new could be made in its place.

Indigo curled up beneath the coverings of her bed roll, next to the fire, much smaller than it was before. But her mind was so busy. Her loneliness overtook her. It was always at night that she questioned the path she walked.

"I could just start over," she said to herself. "I could put all this effort toward finding a beauty alchemist, have my face and body changed. Live the rest of eternity finding new lives to experience when my loved ones die..."

Her heart raced. Eternity. The idea of forever. She closed her eyes and told herself to just breathe, that breath and life were safe --

-- but they weren't safe!

-- but life wasn't safe!

She sat up and held her knees close to her. The cold fear of forever consumed her -- to live forever and to be dead forever -- these two ideas solidified her in an icy grip. She didn't want either one.

She clasped her hands together.

"Please help me," she whispered. "Please guide me..."

She hesitated, always feeling strange about praying to Gods she didn't know or really believe in. But she wanted to believe. She wanted to believe there was some hope up there, no matter how cruel they could be. She wanted to know there was a chance of higher meaning.

"...Please forgive me... for what I've done... what I'll continue to do..."

She wanted to know there was, at the very least, someone out there who would have compassion for her.

A recurring nightmare.

Indigo is racing through the streets of Rosebury, the large city back in the Republic, so many miles away now. Once, it was a place to call home.

The Divine Force has sent strangers into the city. They can sniff out the Gifted... the heretics...

Indigo was found. She's running for her life, bleeding from the shoulder, crying. Her chest can't handle the tears, the desperation for breath. She's on the verge of adulthood and these men are going to steal it all away.

When she trips, a man stabs her back with a blade. Breathing is harder now. He pulls it out to stab her again, but it doesn't happen. She looks up to find J'son has fired Hawks upon them, metallic birds with burning blue eyes swarming them, at least a dozen.

Indigo crawls away, watching her pursuers get sliced by sharp wings, stabbed by long beaks, running away, the Hawks never ceasing. J'son scoops her up because she can't move properly. He isn't much larger than she is, but he squeezes her so hard, making her bleed more, but it's okay because she's with him and dying with him would be just fine.

He races back to his house and kicks open his own door. Kila is there, her large eyes beautiful and worrying. They lower her into a bed and J'son runs off to get help while Kila stays by her side to put pressure on the wound and give her water.

Indigo feels dizzy. Cold. For the first time, she experiences death.

When she awakes, Kila looks confused. She's gripping her torso. Blood paints her palm when she pulls it away.

Indigo feels fine again. Checks her back, her front, there's no wound. Just scars where the sword went through her.

Indigo rushes to Kila's aid, unsure of what to do. They're both crying.

J'son returns home when Kila dies. His eyes are dark. Full of sadness... confusion... realization...

...then hatred.

Indigo jolted awake, crying. The fire was gone, as if it never existed. Nothing attacked or killed her in the night. She fell back and rested a bit longer, wrapping herself up to hide away from the cold morning air, sighing in frustration. If she couldn't die, the least life could grant her was the lack of dreams or memories.

The journey to Shadowrock was a long one. It was the next place she could get a good, hot meal and maybe a bed to sleep in. Most would be willing. Nobody wanted to be cursed and nobody wanted to die. The majority of the walk was quiet, though she passed by plenty of traders, the Scarred traveling village to village, as well as a couple carriages, guarded by armed men. Wealthy families traveling from the Kingdom to the Republic, free from the binds of allegiance and borders.

The riders of the first looked down on her, as just another peasant caught in the crossfire of battle, trapped in perpetual poverty and misfortune.

The riders of the second, however, recognized her. They nearly shrieked in panic, demanding their driver pick up the pace and "get them out of this Gods-forsaken country."

Indigo avoided the thick woods that rested between the main road and Shadowrock, taking the long way around, arriving at Shadowrock as the sun touched the distant mountaintops. She passed under an archway with the town's name etched across it, the carvings filled in with black paint. Businesses were packing up for the day but children still ran about, giggling, their scars and cuts stretching with their smiles. She watched and threw her hood up over her head, concealing herself further.

She looked away from all she passed by to refrain from any potential unneeded panic and pressed on, following the scent of food – it smelled like meat. There were muffled sounds of a ruckus coming from within the town, through its winding, uneven streets. Shadowrock seemed to be built from nothing but stone and the belief that nothing could knock it down. Houses were on elevated portions of land, constructed tall from rock and dirt. The path was all stone carving its way through grass in all directions. A poor town by fortress-home standards but this place was cozy and smelled of nature and food.

Indigo rounded another corner and the town opened up into a square where market stalls were being packed up or simply cleaned off. Behind it all was a large building, the source of the ruckus and, more importantly, the wondrous scent. There were men and women, some armed to the teeth, others more modest, drinking from large stone mugs and laughing. Some were admiring each other's blades and some were speaking with the townsfolk. Indigo raised a brow, wondering if this group of armed people were mercs... but there was no way any group of mercenaries would take the time to associate with any Scarred.

She walked past them and grinned, identifying the building as the local tavern, looking like a castle. She removed her coin pouch and it was as heavy as her stomach was empty.

Pulling open the heavy door, a sea of voices hit her as well as a powerful scent of meat and sweet alcohol. Her mouth was budding with saliva, eager to sit down for a while and indulge herself in something good. The place was warm and she removed her cloak, hanging it up on a rack by the door as the fire roared in the large-yet-cozy bar. The fire was to the far right and there were tables filled with more people armed and armored on the opposite side. Indigo raised an eyebrow at the sight, which contradicted much of what this village's people seemed to be like. These were certainly outsiders.

On the other side of the building, away from the rough-looking crowd seemed to be some locals, judging by their faces, and some travelers who kept to themselves in corners.

She watched the band of soldiers laugh, shout, and chug their drinks. She noticed that none of them were scarred. She watched the Scarred working, rushing to meet the expectations of these faraway travelers. The bartender was a frail man painted with worry and gnarled skin pulling one side of his mouth into a permanent grin. A young man was cleaning mugs with a towel and coming in and out of the tarp-covered back door with trays of drinks and plates of breads, cheeses and spiced meats, his left eye decorated with splotches of dark, twisted flesh. A girl about his age worked alongside him, refilling drinks, her arms resembling an elderly woman's, her fingers almost nothing but bone.

As Indigo took a step forward, she attracted attention. One by one, heads turned. Bit by bit, conversation died down.

Soon, everyone inside was staring at her. Families and individuals near the fireplace froze up. The armed patrons looked at her, some nervously, others curiously. The boy serving drinks rounded the corner, looked up and spilled the full mugs on the floor, rushing to grab something to clean it up with, apologizing profusely to nobody in particular.

Indigo sighed. She walked over to the corner of the bar, far away from everyone else. Slowly, conversation picked up again but it was not as lively as it once was. As long as nobody got too close or angered her, then they would be fine -- as they rumors went. Nobody paid her any mind besides the man behind the counter. His sweat was palpable and he did his best to approach her kindly.

She smiled at him. She always kept it simple. Nobody really wanted to talk to her. He was doing what he had to do so she wouldn't kill everyone in the place out of anger.

"Meat. Whatever you got," she said. "Your largest mug of ale too." She slapped three gold pieces on the counter, far too much for what she ordered. It couldn't have been more than a couple silvers each.

The man gulped and smiled. "Oh, thank you... Ah, I could work out the change if you give me a--"

"Don't worry about it." She dropped another gold piece on the table and his face went completely red from flattery. She hesitated before saying it. She didn't know why she tried... but the reactions she received from all she met made her feel less than human. Like a creature that crawled out of the ground and was pretending to be a person. There had to be compassion out there. "You know, I'm... not what they say I am." She blushed. He stared at her.

He scooped up the money and smiled at her. "I will have your food right away! Thank you, so much! So much!"

She nodded but could tell he didn't believe a word she said.

Indigo sighed deeply and dropped her face into her arms, ravenous with hunger and thirst. She peeked up and watched a confident woman, armed in firm leather armor and straps with long dark hair slap a man on the back, the two of them laughing loudly, causing all around them to become rowdy once again. They nearly spilled their food and drink onto the floor and they laughed alongside her comrades. She wrapped her arm around another woman in armor, nearly falling over from joy. She talked and laughed the loudest. Pretty in the eyes and strong in the arms she kept bare, filled with pride and charisma. Maybe she led the band of dangerous looking warriors.

Indigo watched them laugh. Talk. Touch. She looked away, feeling her heart grow heavy. Those things weren't for her. They never have been. She did her best to ignore them all but couldn't help but be curious about who they were. These were certainly a dangerous looking group of people, but didn't seem to be bandits... didn't seem to be mercs... certainly weren't Royal soldiers.

As she threw glances their way, that tall woman who was so friendly and confident caught her gaze. They stared at each other for a moment, the woman grinning, speaking quietly to those around her, who also turned to look. Indigo slowly looked away. They had certainly recognized who she was. To Indigo's surprise, however, they didn't appear fearful. Surprised and curious to be sure but nothing more.

Indigo heard the thuds of boots come her way. She felt more and more eyes fall upon her. The woman sat down two seats away from her and reclined her back to the bar counter, propping her elbows up onto it.

"Name's Zo," she said.

Indigo didn't respond. She looked ahead. This woman was either stupid enough to want to kill her or stupid enough to try and take her in alive for the bounty. Neither one would work. Indigo's Gift would see to that.

Zo laughed. "You know," she said, "You scarred folk are so appealing to me. There's something beautiful to a pretty face shrouded in abuse."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Indigo said. Her food arrived, hunks of cooked meat on a tray with a large stone mug of ale.

"But you aren't one of the scarred, are you?" Zo turned toward her. "You look like them. But no one who's heard the stories or seen your image could forget that gnarly scar going down your eye. You're En-Maer."

Indigo took long sips from her mug. Her heart was racing. Another fight, then?

"What of it?" She replied, lowering the mug to pick up a hunk of meat, desperate for food, tearing away a juicy, tender piece, taking a sip of her drink to swallow it down quickly. Gods, it was good.

"What of it?" Zo echoed. "Everything's of it. You're the most wanted person in the entire country. If I were to bring the High-Priest your head I'd be set for life."

Indigo swallowed. "You going to do it, then?" She looked over at the mercenary woman and held her gaze.

"Some might be interested," Zo said quietly, tilting her head, leaning her back against the bar once more. "Though, word has it that you're unkillable. On top of that," she gazed up at the ceiling, relaxing further, "Anyone who comes into prolonged contact with you is met with horrible luck and untimely demise. 'The Roaming Death'... 'En-Maer'." She feigned a shiver across her body and smiled over at Indigo. "Terrifying stuff."

"Uh-huh," Indigo replied, turning back to her food. "I take it you don't believe the rumors then."

Zo sighed heavily. "There are rumors I believe and rumors I don't. For example, this rumor that's become a blasted religion? No. The Gods are dead, sister. They were never real to begin with. The Goddesses, however..." she laughed. "Very real."

Indigo turned to her. Zo was giving her a mischievous look.

"The rumor that you're a walking plague, that you curse people? The rumor that you're one of the many demon-spawns meant to bring misfortune to the world?"

Zo paused.

Indigo looked at her with anticipation. Her heart was still racing. Was this woman... was she really... talking to her? Like she was a human being?

"I don't believe in those rumors," Zo said. "I believe your abilities are exactly what your kind call them -- a Gift. A Gift from the Goddesses above."

Indigo's face became so warm. She had forgotten her hunger and thirst completely.

"Who are you?" Indigo asked.

Zo grinned. "I'm so glad you asked!" She practically leaped off her seat, stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled, loud and ear-piercing.

Indigo watched Zo's companions look to each other with excitement and they all rushed over. Indigo turned and watched that area of the bar Zo stood in become filled with about two-dozen other armed people.

They stomped their feet in unison. It became a beat. They moved their bodies to the beat... dancing. Indigo felt an anxious surge hurl through her but she couldn't take her eyes off them.

Zo and three other women stepped forward, stomping their feet as well, pumping their fists in the air -- and sang to the rhythm.

"The Colors of Greed --

"We Sing To Your Walls --

"Gold and Silvery Laws --"

Cheers from their band of soldiers.

"Until We Are Free --

"We Fight 'Til We Fall --

"And Sing Our Merciful Song --"

All of them joined their voices together, stomping, turning their bodies, moving their shoulders in unison, dancing, chanting.

"Extreme Liberation --

"From Coast to Coast of All of Nadi --

"We Will Shine A Light To Those In Need --

"The Extreme Liberation Team!"

Zo nearly tripped and they all laughed. Indigo stared at them in awe.

"What do you think?" Zo breathed, walking back over, her team standing behind her, laughing and chatting among themselves.

"That was... interesting," Indigo said.

Zo laughed. Took a seat next to Indigo, closer this time.

"Extreme Liberation Team," Zo said. "Exciting name, right? We're fighting for the freedom of the people. This stranglehold the church has over the world... this fighting between the Republic of the Modern Alliance and the Kingdom of Gods... it all has to end. That's what we're here for."

Indigo stared at her. A very cheesy group dance they had... but they didn't care. They were all so wild and free...

"So, what's your name?" Zo asked. "Your real name?"

Indigo flinched. Looked her up and down.

"You want to... know my name?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She held out her hand in greeting. "You know mine."

Indigo stared at the gesture and had never felt more warm in her life. It had been years since someone had talked to her like this woman had. The moment overtook her. Tears budded up in Indigo's eyes and she wasn't sure if she should resist them or not.

"Hey, are you okay?" Zo asked.

"It's been so long since someone's wanted to know my name," Indigo admitted. She looked up at Zo with red eyes, desperate to burst into tears.

Zo's expression softened. She nodded, knowingly, then slowly moved forward, wrapping her arms around Indigo.

"Wh-what are you..."

"I'm hugging you," Zo said. "You need it."

Zo squeezed her into an embrace and Indigo broke down, grabbing hold of her tightly, crying. For a moment, years upon years of pain, fear and anger melted away. She struggled against the tears, though. She had to tell her. For the first time in forever, someone wanted to know her name.

"M-my name is... Indigo! I'm Indigo..." Then allowed the emotions to take her over. They sat there for a long time. Indigo didn't care who heard her ugly cries. This was just... so nice.

Zo laughed her pretty laugh again. "It's nice to meet you, Indigo." She released her and leaned back. "Would you like to come with us?"

Indigo watched her as she got up and stood tall, confident, strong.

"Where are you all headed?" Indigo asked, wiping her eyes.

Zo grinned. "We're on our way to kill the High-Priest."