My heart beat pounded in my head. Diggery was a dead man. His green eyes, wide in panic as Rudoplh stared him down. I couldn't just watch this, I couldn't stomach it. It was my fault Diggery was in this mess. I shouldn't have called him a coward.

Ignoring Rudolph's towering shoulders and the scowl hidden beneath his scraggly beard, I pushed past rows of tables and headed straight for them.

“What are you trying to do boy?!?!” Rudolph rasped loudly, his voice rang out through the open air. “Do you want me to put my fist through your head?”

Diggery fumbled with his words. Stumbling back as he tried to get away. He was useless at lying.

If I had only kept my mouth shut. Stealing from someone like Rudolph wasn't brave, it was stupid. He knew better.

Rudolph still focused on Diggery, he didn't notice me getting closer. I stood back at the table, hesitating. An equally stupid idea forming in my head.

I picked up a bowl of stew in front of me and tossed it straight over Rudolph's head.

The room went dead silent. I froze, the brown goop making a sloppy mess of Rudolph's face. His eyes lit up in a fury of rage, slimy carrots falling down his forehead and nose. I would have laughed if I wasn't drowning in fear. I stayed where I was, motionless. Staring him dead in the eye.

Rudolph stood up practically leaping over his seat. Facing me, he spat, “You little bit-”

I didn't hear the rest because he sent my head spinning.

"Phyn!" Diggery yelped. My red hair flying up in my face as I stumbled back. The wind knocked out of me. It took a second to get a hold of myself. Curse him.

I turned my head back, spitting out blood. "Is that all you got?" I lifted my head, holding it high. I kinda hoped it was, my face feeling beaten in.

Gripping my fists, I anticipated the next strike. Catching his gaze just in time, the force knocked me over. The dust picked up as I lay with my face in it. Grimacing, I shoved any fear deep into my gut. I wouldn't let him get the best of me.

From the corner of my eye I saw Diggery run off. His honey blond hair, gone from view. It didn't matter, I could handle this myself. I rolled over pushing my fingers in the dirt and rose to my feet.

"Stubborn one aren't ya," Rudolph growled beneath his breath.

I grinned in response, a crowd forming around us. Orphans to thugs, all cheering for a fight. Eyes eager for anything that qualified as entertainment in this dreary atmosphere. I would give them what they wanted.

I aimed my fist for his gut. He moved aside, hitting me again. I stumbled back, this time staying on my feet.

Dodging his next swing, I jumped forward, landing a solid punch across his cheek.

He didn't even move. He didn't flinch at all, standing as still as stone. I didn't have a chance. I froze as he raised his fist to hit me again. Closing my eyes tightly, I held my breath.

His fist didn't come.

"That's enough Rudolph."

A voice rang out, breaking through the commotion. I peeked one eye open to see Malachi stumble down the steps. Diggery right beside him, nervously watching. He got Malachi. I hid my relief.

Malachi slicked back his blond ponytail, adjusting his wide brimmed hat. "You're not hitting my golden goose are ya?" he said in a threatening tone.

Rudolph stuttered, stew still dripping from his brow “ Well- no- I mean- she-”

Malachi stood, arms crossed. “I'm not really a fan of excuses.” He snapped his fingers. Two of his thugs grabbed Rudolph, dragging him off. He kicked and screamed, cursing me out as he got pulled away. A fury in his eyes that I quickly ignored.

I kept my eyes on my shoes. They were tattered dusty brown and badly scuffed. I was describing them over in my head, trying to distract myself from the welling tears. Getting hit multiple times in the face was enough to get the water works going, but crying here would be disastrous. With all the eyes watching me, waiting for a sign of weakness, I wouldn't give them one. I may have Malachi's protection but I didn't want to need it.

I refused to look at Malachi as he stood there waiting for my gratitude. I gathered myself keeping my voice as stern and steady as possible, “You didn't have to do that I had it handled.”

I looked up to catch his blank expression, break into laughing. “Oh Phynley, you're too much! One would think you were a big burly warrior instead of a little girl by the way you talk.”

I glared at him. I wasn't a 'little girl'. Halfway into my fifteenth year was certainly well beyond what people deemed little. I bit my tongue and walked past. I wouldn't argue, arguing would only prolong my humiliation.

Malachi shook his finger at me. “Wait, wait, I'm not done with you. Upstairs.”

I stopped, giving him another glare. “Right behind you.“

The crowds parted and wandered away. No one was eager to stick around. I looked back to see Diggery, apologizing with his eyes. I turned my head back forward. I didn't want his pity. It only made me more uncomfortable.

I stalked the steps, following Malachi up to his office. Preparing for the worst, I started ordering a sincere sounding apology. He swung the door open, waiting for me to enter.

It was a messy eclectic space darted with eccentric treasures, oddly contrasted to the dark and dingy room. It always smelled stuffy in here.

Malachi motioned for me to sit before getting behind his desk. "Well you certainly know how to make a scene." He raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I looked up with my best innocent face.

Malachi smirked "Oh so the stew dripping off Rudolph's head wasn't you? Truly my dear, I don't really care if you want to toss stew on people's heads. Although you might want to pick someone who plays nicer, that's gonna bruise." He pointed at the spot under my eye.

I touched the bruise frowning with embarrassment.

He drummed his fingers against the desk,"This does make things awkward for Rudolph... At least he was never a favourite of mine, more of a loyal dumb dog than someone worth respecting. No harm done really." His use of past-tense unsettled me.

"What are you going to do to him?"

He paused as if thinking, "Haven't decided yet, but that's for me to worry about, pet." I shifted uncomfortably at his answer.

He looked down studying some sort of paper on his desk. I watched him, waiting to see if he had something else to say. He had something to answer for. I wished he would've just asked me. None of this would've happened if he had.

Malachi looked up with one eye. I swallowed a gulp, gathering my courage. “Why did you promote Diggery?"

"Your goofy faced friend?" Malachi popped his head up. I nodded, not happy with his description. "Because just that, he's your friend. I want you to be happy here Phyn." His smile faded as he looked back at his paper.

"I didn't ask you to do that," I stated, firmly. I didn't want Diggery mixed up in this more.

Malachi sighed, "Do you want me to change it?"

I opened my mouth and shut it. Diggery would be furious if I undid this. He was happy to move to a better crew, even if I thought it was a bad idea.

I settled with a frown. "No."

"Good! Then let's not argue." Malachi grinned, pulling a letter from his desk. "I need you to deliver this tomorrow," he said, handing it to me.

I took the letter, studying the strange seal, red ribbons and black wax with some sort of gear crest with six points. I had never seen one like it before. I usually knew the seals.

"Where?" I asked, looking back up.

"Euphoria."

"Don't tell me it's Rayburn!" I complained, shutting my eyes in frustration.

Malachi shrugged, "Okay then, I won't tell you."

I threw my hands up in the air, "You know I hate him."

Malachi smirked, "I'm sure the feeling is mutual, but this is important." He checked something off on his paper, shutting the booklet. "If it makes you feel any better I got you this." He threw something into the air.

I scrambled to catch it, looking in my palm to find the round orange fruit. An orange. My mouth watered. I looked up making sure this wasn't a joke.

"Your welcome." Malachi grinned.

I shook my head. "Fine, no more complaints out of me." I drooled over my bribe.

"Make sure you're punctual tomorrow and don't dress like a slob," he added, giving me a wary look. I scowled at the comment, he was one to talk.

He ignored my frowns, lifting a medallion up off of his desk, "And in case you need some authority."

I stared at the symbol, a blue semicircle, Malachi's crest. I slipped the piece in my pocket.

"You can go now or whatever." Malachi said, eyeing me to leave.

I nodded dully heading for the door. At least I was in the clear. My fight didn't seem to cause any ill will, although with Malachi you never knew for sure.

My face, aching worse, I tried to ignore it. Ducking out, I bounded down the stairs.

Everyone was probably waiting for me in the barn. In a moment of weakness I agreed to tell a story, there was no way they'd let me forget it. Those kids were vultures sometimes.

I peeled into the orange as I walked, the juice getting on my fingers. Eating it one piece at a time. It was best to savour it. I didn't know the next time I'd get something like this. You didn't get fruit like this in this climate.

The sun falling on the camp, it left a glow on everything. The sunset colours didn't make a difference for the dreary run down buildings. The landscape, barren and dry. This whole place was horribly ugly. The forest in the distance was the only redeemable quality. The only thing worth looking at in this view.

I followed the dusty path, heading to the biggest building in sight. The old barn on the hill. The distance shortening, as I followed the glowing beacon. Candlelight pouring through the slits in the wood, I could hear murmuring from inside.

I took a quick breath, gathering myself. My stomach twisted in knots. Too late to take back promises. I plastered on a fake smile, before sliding the door open.

An eruption of cheers sounded as I walked in. Grinning at their excitement, I tried to mirror their energy. All the bunk beds pushed to one side of the room, the kids were all crowded across the floor. There was hardly any room to walk. They shuffled to the side, making me a path.

All eyes staring up at me in anticipation. Expectations were high, hopefully I wouldn't disappoint.

Walking up to the stage, made of empty crates and boxes, I jumped up on it, facing the crowd. Messy hair, dirty faces, practically skin and bone. They were a sorry sight.

"Are you going to start!" A little boy yelled from across the room.

I laughed, walking across the stage, "Yes, yes, just calm down." I called back, settling at center stage. Finally deciding on tonight's story.

I took a breath, clearing my throat. "The story I'm about to tell you is a true one."

My voice echoed out across the barn walls. My audience already memorized.

I looked back to the weathered map behind me. Stepping back, I pointed my finger on the spot. "Off the coast of west Tetrad there is a little town called Enfold." I turned away from the map, walking back to center stage.

"In this town there lived a young girl and her family. This girl, our young heroine, looked very much like me. Crazy red hair, clear blue eyes, and a smug grin.” I smirked making faces at them, wondering if they would realize that I was talking about my younger self.

"What this girl wanted most in the world was to prove how brave she could be." My voice trailed off. I had never told my story before. I didn't really know why I was.

I paused, trying to let my nerves settle. Everyone, looking up, waiting for me to continue. I blinked out at them, forcing myself to speak.

"On the edge of Enfold there was an old house built into the city wall. In it lived an old man rumoured to be a wizard. This old man rarely left his house, staying out of the village politics. All the neighbours had their theories about the various odd smells and sounds that came out from the place, but no one knew anything for sure. So when this girl dared to break in and steal something from this strange old man, she thought it was a good chance to prove herself."

I took a breath, looking past the crowd.

"That afternoon she did, crawling through a small window she crept into the hovel. Once inside she saw the strangest things, odd creatures preserved in jars, shelves of books in strange languages and bottles of odd coloured bubbling liquids. The thing that sent shivers down her spine was the pile of dead birds on the table. All different kinds, there were dozens of them with their necks broken and all their feathers plucked out. All their eyes were missing, the blood just beginning to dry. The smell of them filled the house, saturating everything."

I wrinkled my nose at the mental image.

"She turned to leave, feeling more scared than she expected, nearly forgetting the token she was supposed to steal. Something to prove she had broken in. That's when she saw it, a leather bound book on the top shelf, one of the few in her own tongue. In gold lettering it was titled Atlas of the Buried Worlds. There was something intriguing about it and the girl and she decided it would be her token. She reached up on her tippy toes, slipping it off the shelf. She shoved it inside her shirt beneath her coat.

"As she did she turned to see a little boy watching her. He had the biggest brown eyes she had ever seen, eyes that could calm a hurricane. He was gaping at her beneath his messy brown hair. She almost missed the alarm in his eyes, he was trying to tell her to leave. More afraid than angry at her presence. She decided she should listen to this boy. He seemed genuinely scared. She turned to go but just as she did-"

I blew out the candle lighting the stage and they all screamed. I laughed, pulling a match from my pocket and striking it. I relit the candle, waiting for them to quiet down.

"The wizard grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her to face him. He had dark soulless eyes with a death glare that made her shiver. Covered in a cloak of feathers oddly beautiful in its variety. Every kind of feather you could imagine. It unsettled her as she remembered the dead birds on the table.

"His expression suddenly softened and he released her arm, leaving an odd sting where he had grabbed it. Peculiarly enough he just laughed her intrusion off, gave her a pat on the head and sent her home. The old man even joked about how few visitors he ever had.

"She thought she was safe, a little shaken but unscathed. Walking straight home, she didn't make any stops. She went to bed that night putting the atlas beneath her pillow still mystified over her experience. She slept with vivid dreams of forest glens, magical waterfalls, diving beneath the depths, getting dragged under, drowning.”

I shuddered, something about that dream sticking with me.

"She was awakened that night by shaking, it was still dark out and the boy from the house was standing over her, eyes frantic. He told her to run, to leave, that the wizard had figured out she had stolen something and he was out for blood. She thought he was crazy, but there was something in his actions that screamed sincerity. So despite how crazy it sounded she left with him.

"They ran through the streets hand in hand dodging raindrops as they fell. She was filled with a sense of dread like a dark cloud looming over her. She couldn't run fast enough, clutching to the atlas, her lungs burned. She desperately wanted to get outside the city, there was a forest outside she could hide in, she knew it well. She had to get away. Without warning she tripped off an uneven stone in the path. She fell and as she did she disappeared. As if her thoughts had triggered it, she had appeared in that forest."

I watched their eyes grow wide.

"It's a strange thing when you are in one place and then suddenly another. Our young heroine knew it not then but she was a Wanderer, like one of those in ancient legends, people with extraordinary powers. She only had to think of a place and she could be there. Any place, as long as she could picture it."

Smiling at their awe, I turned back.

"Still unaware, she spent the night roaming the forest. Eventually finding a spot to rest, she fell asleep. At dawn she awoke and decided it was safe to return home. The walk back home was bright and the sun lit her path. The night's events felt like an odd dream, but reality is often stranger than dreams and much more cruel."

I choked at this part holding back the building ache inside of me. I took a breath before I started to speak again.

"There was a crowd around her house when she returned, the door wide open, two men carrying something out. There were seven things covered in sheets lined up on the street. It took her a second to realize what they were. They placed an eighth thing next to the others. Before they could cover it she caught sight of what it was, the body of her youngest brother. They were the bodies of her family."

The room was silent, dead silent, no one here was a stranger to death. You didn't end up in a place like this if you were.

"She ran to them being held back by the crowd. They stared at her with looks of standoffish compassion, a mix of fear and pity. She couldn't stop crying or screaming, none of it felt real." My voice was raw and dull at the same time. I blinked back any forming tears.

"The wizard had killed her family in her stead. Realizing this she ran off from the crowd, hiding at the top of the town clock tower. She sat up there for hours, holding the atlas, still shaking from the sobs.

"The clock tower rang for noon resounding twelve loud bells. Footsteps creaked up the steps, someone had found her. The sound, growing closer and closer. She froze, not out of choice, no she wanted to run but something was holding her there. Nothing was moving in the room, even the bell stopped before it's last note. It was as if time had stopped.

"The wizard drifted in, seemingly unheld by time. His feather cloak dusting across the floor. The boy followed in after him, nervously shifting. ‘Alas I've caught my little thief. You should have more sense, child, than to steal from a wizard,' the wizard laughed,” I made my voice scratchy to mimic his.

"She couldn't move, couldn't run, just wishing to be anywhere else but there. The wizard motioned to the boy to grab the atlas. He looked at her with sorry eyes as he approached. The boy was next to her now. His outstretched hand, reaching out to take it. Whatever had been holding her still started to loosen. She could move some now.

"Looking at the atlas, I noticed it was open on a particular page. The boy mouthed for her to leave and she stared back at the page, unsure. Remembering her accidental disappearing act from the night before, she focused on the image. Closing her eyes she pictured the place and disappeared.

"She left Enfold that day and never returned. Now interlocked in a chase with a crazy birdman wizard. Moving from place to place, always looking over her shoulder, never really safe. Only staying one step ahead with the warnings from his servant boy and the new gifting she discovered. Although, it only ever was a minor victory. She couldn't run forever. How could anyone escape, when time is held in your enemy's grasp? Even a Wanderer is trapped by time. So I can imagine that she'll keep surviving, but one day her efforts will fail and she will die. No justice for her family and no peace for her mind."

I stopped not having more to say. I wasn't in the mood to make things up. I let my voice ring out dry, "And that's where our story ends. Goodnight." I clapped my hands before stepping off the makeshift stage.

The room erupted in chatter till a freckled faced girl shouted out, "You can't end the story like that, it's horrible!"

I turned, giving the crowd an apathetic glare. "I warned you that it was a true story. I didn't pick the ending." I turned to leave again, interrupted by another shout. "Why would you even tell us a story like that?"

My hands shook, "I told you as a lesson. Never do anything just to be brave, don't be a hero. It's better to be smart and protect yourself."

They looked at me with pleading eyes searching for hope but I had none to give them. I caught Diggery's eyes near the back. He looked troubled, frowning at me. I glared back at him. He didn't have a right to disapprove. I didn't want to deal with any of this. Why did I even tell them my story? This was a mistake. I walked quickly outside the barn, running away. I didn't want to say anything more about it. I had nothing more to say. This was just my reality.