Inherently Innocent

Running Through The Night

Thyme waved at her from the field. He moved from side to side of a growing corn like it was a microphone.
Liliac couldn't help but laugh.
The boy passionately leaned forward, opening his mouth and frowning like he was delivering a killer note. He leaned back, shaking his head. He finished his fake concert and bowed before jogging towards Liliac.
Halfway there he was stopped by a nymph. Liliac recognized her as Ocarina. The nymph talked to Thyme, pointing at the plants for him to continue harvesting. She most likely said something about the guards.
Liliac knew they were constantly pointing their guns at Thyme, taking turns between the roof and second floor to point if he changed perspectives, but Liliac kept her quiet. Thyme deserved to smile for a while more.
Liliac kneeled on the ground. She buried her hands on the ground to pluck out a carrot. It would probably end up mushy for the next person to stay at the end of the line.
"How is it going down there?" A guard shouted from the Imaginaria building beside.
Thyme looked up and raised a thumb, to which the guard answered the same. Liliac found that attitude idiotic. But if it kept him safe, it was wise.
She plucked out another half dozen carrots and walked back to the deposit area. Other nymphs were already cutting the leaves out, or even skinning the potatoes. The blonde nymph that took Liliac's carrots looked down at her before she cleaned her hands against her pants. She didn't have to. She didn't even truly feel the disgust. She just wanted to show Liliac what she was to them.
"You or the family that abandoned you are going to end up eating them, so don't vomit," Liliac said, lifting her nails from the wooden table.
"Wither off," Another nymph shouted as she left.
Liliac crossed the potatoes field avoiding the moved dirt from sliding into the holes of her shoes. She moved the growing corn away from her face to reach up to Thyme, but he was still talking to Ocarina. However, when she saw Liliac approach, she patted Thyme's shoulder and left.
"See you!" He waved, but the nymph had left. Then he turned to Liliac, "How are the carrots?"
"Not mushy yet," She said.
Thyme laughed, but Liliac couldn't find the joke. Her neutral stare must have bothered him, since he stopped laughing and looked at her hair, the section that fell over her right eye.
"Isn't it uncomfortable to have your eye covered with hair while working? It's an odd kind of eyepatch to have," Thyme asked, plucking the grainy vegetable out of its place. He must have realized his question was the uncomfortable thing when Liliac didn't answer, so he changed the topic. "I bet two non-mushy potatoes that I could bury all the fallen seeds just by moving the ground. Would save us hours of work."
Thyme kneeled on the ground. The dirt pressed against his skin through the torn spaces in his old pants. He almost smiled at the feeling.
"Why would I ever bet on that? You'll get us both in trouble if you do your magic out here," Liliac looked up in search of the guards. Several were looking. Black figures standing on white structures against the unbothered blue sky.
"I never got to ask you. What type of nymph are you?" Thyme rolled up his sleeves. The idiot was going to do it.
Liliac thought about the answer for a while. One the one hand because the answer was ambiguous, but on the other because she was preparing for the ground to shake.
"I don't know."
Thyme stopped his movements.
"You don't know? What kind of nymph was your parent?"
"Both of my parents were human," Liliac crossed her arms. She lowered her head, looking at the dirt in front of her feet instead of Thyme.
"You do know that's impossible, right?" Thyme stood up, reaching out for some leaves to fidget with. Her answers would keep him from acting recklessly.
"I know, I know. But both my parents were human. If there was an ishine there," Liliac wanted to finish the idea, but couldn't find words. Her mind raced in search of an image. Her parents, their faces. She could only grasp the concept while their shapes vanished like smoke from a blown candle. Before the shame got to crawl up her throat, she said, "I was seven years old. I was a child."
Thyme seemed to understand. Maybe he saw through her skin, maybe it infested him with the same shame just to know. Whatever it was, he looked down.
"You've been in the Program since you were seven?" Thyme's hands crawled up his head through his neck. He scratched his skin and wondered with his eyes. The clockwork inside his head counted the days it had been.
Liliac couldn't follow suit. She had no idea what she had lost.
"All I know is that this happened one day," She pointed at her hair, purple in the tone of a forget me not, "And that I'm of no use in experiments because nobody knows what to do with me."
"Damn, I was going to ask about your eye," Thyme quietly thought out loud, slowly realizing details he had no way of assuming. "I'm glad you decided to tell me this, though."
Why was the boy so careful? His every word seemed kind. His every movement was gentle. Of course, he was new. Soon the Host would order studies, and each glow from his eyes would vanish.
Liliac reached up to her forehead and guided her hair away from her eye, placing it behind her ear. The Host hated it when she did that. He'd shout until she covered it again. But between the growing corn, she felt hidden. Not safe, but maybe more protected than usual.
"As far as I know, I was the first nymph to get in here, back when only ishine were imprisoned. They now experiment to see your abilities, your strengths and weaknesses. What made you different, what made you alive. Back then, the Host wanted to figure out how I was alive."
Thyme stared at Liliac's right eye in detail. She felt stared at, of course, but not afraid. Liliac couldn't see herself, but she had seen mirrors and still water some time before. She knew the way she looked, the way she changed. She was born with brown eyes and hair, but while her hair had changed before getting in the program, her eyes had been healthy until the tests started. She remembered how at first her brown right eye had turned as purple as her hair. How, as the Host kept on pushing, the colour faded and broke. How her vision became blurry, her iris half white, her sclera half black.
"I know ishine can change appearances with time, but I've never seen anything like this. Much less of a nymph," Thyme raised his hand to the side of Liliac's face, casting a shadow on the right side. "I can't believe they do this shit to us," He protested.
Us. He connected with every single nymph, even if one had lived in the program for almost a decade, or helped the humans keep the others captive. But he connected.
"It's for a good purpose at least." Liliac whispered, convincing herself.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Liliac dropped her hair again, "If the Host finds anything interesting, it can revolutionize medicine or technology. If I have to lose an eye for nobody else ever to do so, then so be it."
Thyme was about to speak, his fingers moving against each other as they did when he was thinking his words. A guard interrupted his ideas.
"Those in the corn row, hurry up!"
The two turned at the same rhythm, starting to pull from the corn's fibres in a hurry. Another voice soon interrupted the guard.
"Thyme Heseltine, come inside."
There it was. Would the next time they saw each other be with bruised arms? Red eyes? Fallen hair?
Thyme took Liliac's hand before sprinting to the shadow of the building.
"Come with me, you're turning red under the sun," He smiled, looking back.
She pulled her hand away, threatened by the sudden touch. But she thought of the other nymphs outside. If she stayed, she'd stay alone.
Liliac thought it was careless how Thyme acted without warning, and how we walked without looking where he would step. Yet she followed blindly, looking at the back of his hair instead of the ground.
They walked together into the building. Liliac was smiling, her cheeks hurting as they slowly started to remember what that felt like.

They walked into the dining hall when the guard stopped them. They were wearing the usual uniform; a completely grey jacket with the embroidered initials of Program Imaginaria in its back, hard black boots, and a helmet of different dark hues hard to see through. They almost looked like the old tales of the Marulls and first settlers. Astronauts, was that the word?
"We only called for Heseltine, who are you?" The guard asked.
Liliac frowned. How could the guards not know of her? She had been there for almost a decade, even new guards heard coworkers talk of her. She assumed, at least.
"We're together. Two times the nymph-ness can help much more in whatever you want, right?" Thyme argued. The bastard was offering Liliac to take part in what they had called him for. Maybe he was just a bit stupid, or Ocarina had already told him to betray her. In any case, she had to be carefull.
The guard didn't seem to care. They shrugged and called for a fellow guard to get closer.
"We're taking you to the kitchen," The other guard said. Standing side by side, both guards were clearly short. Or at least of a normal height, but not the average build for trained guards. They were just slightly taller than Liliac, almost the same height as Thyme.
The four started walking into the building, crossing rooms and cells. Thyme looked at the doors with quick eyes, fearing what was behind. He shouldn't have feared the storage rooms, or the guard lounge room. He should have feared the pool and blood room. But the boy had no way of distinguishing them. He was better off fearing them all. He would most likely fail an escape if he didn't know the way out either. Liliac realized they had completely crossed the Program when tall windows hang tall on the wall. She stopped.
She could see grass. Hills. There were trees far off in the distance. A whole world outside of concrete that was only a portrait on a shadow-casting wall. The sun came through the window. Unbothered from the sky just to give her warmth. Clouds were gathering around, dark and grey with no silver lining, threatening to rain and get every nymph inside. The thought lingered in her head as well as the sun's warmth on her skin. Her dress, already dirty with the use of continuous hours, felt heavier yet comfortable. Its weight on her skin felt almost like a hug. She frowned, surprised to see herself distracted that way, and turned to continue walking
Liliac tried over and over again to get Thyme's attention without touching his hand. She soon gave up and pulled his shirt.
"This isn't the kitchen. We're near the edge of the Program."
"I know," He mumbled, "I assumed they'd lie to take me here."
"Why would they lie, though? They don't lie in here. They force you to swallow the truth," Only Liliac lied, she had that job when no one else could do it. "Thyme. I don't think these are guards."
Liliac regretted saying it. She had given Thyme ideas she didn't want. He'd start to see hope in escaping. Her job was to lie to prevent it. If the Host found out, her streak of two years of unbothered veins would come to an end. He'd find an excuse to test how much time she could spend underwater. He'd tell the guards not to protect her from the other nymphs she had already held back.
The two guards and two nymphs got to the main door. Nothing was right.
“Follow me,” The guard spoke differently than the others. Liliac wasn’t surprised by the fact it was probably a woman, but by the warmth in her voice.