The Forgotten

Fight in the Hideout

And nothing happens.

"Oh, come on!" I complain. "All that dramatic build up for nothing?" Allen doesn't seem to mind, though. He looks back at Mercy.
"Good old Mercy. You come through every time." He steps into his house and immediately drops to the ground unconscious.

"A little late, but better late than never, right?" I laugh nervously.

"Surrender now, or things will get very uncomfterable for you," a voice says from the darkness. I'm surprised. The voice is female, and young too. Maybe my age, even!

"Naw, I'm good." I say back, trying to sound brave.

"Crap, I knew I should have gone with the silent attack!" says the girl.
"Yeah, the voice ruined the whole scene," I complain.

"Quit talking, you," the girl hisses. She steps into the light. Well, if you can call it a light. It's still quite dark, so I can't make out details yet, but she appears to be my age, or close. She has long hair in a braid going down her neck.

"Well, I suppose the kid will go down easily enough, and I think I can take you on." I grin. She thinks she can get Shawn? Forget it.

"Shawn, do it!" He doesn't.

"No," he says. "She's nice. And my throwy stuff only happens in bad times. This is Fred." he says, already ready to welcome in "a new friend". The mysterious girl sighs and says,"Sorry, little guy." And then she kicks Shawn's legs out from under him and he crashes to the ground. Then she sits him up and binds his hands. I stand here, amazed that a 11 or 12 year old would purposely kick a child. She has a sword out and ready.

"Gonna come willingly and surrender?" she asks.

"No." I say, preparing to lose my first sword fight. No way I can win on my first go. "But go easy on me. First time with a sword," I add. She sighs.

"Fine." Then she thrusts her sword forward. I block clumsily.

"You're going to kill me?" I ask in disbelief. Am I going to be slain by a 12 year old girl?

"No, I hope not," she replies while swiping viciously.

"Okay, well at least I won't die... hopefully... yet," I say with a sigh while blocking and dodging as fast as I can. It might not be enough.

"What's your name, intruder?" she asks, swiping again.

"Wrive. What's yours?" I say, panting with the effort it takes to keep dodging these attacks.

"You're in no position to ask questions, intruder. But, since I'm nice, I'll tell you anyways. It's Tarna," she replies, keeping up the onslaught of quick slices.

By now, all my focus is going into staying alive and unwounded. Another flurry of chops from Tarna, directed at my legs. I dance away. More malicious strikes, this time aimed near my chest. I duck. I know staying on defence will be my downfall, but Tarna offers no opportunities to go on the offensive in this small room. A thought occurs. I need every advantage I can get. Mareth is not going to save anyone today. I block the last of several swings aimed for my head and then turn and run.

Running to Mercy, I sheath Mareth. My power is my tool. My power is mine, not the other way around. Tarna runs closely behind me. I turn suddenly and kick. I hit her waist and she goes sprawling. Let's play some offence. My power is ready, wanting to take control. I keep my focus, though, and then I channel it through my hands. Not deadly, just knocking the air out of Tarna. Throwing her further back. Once she starts to get up, I ready another pulse of shadow. She stares at me.

"You... you're one of us," Tarna gasps.

"Us?" I ask, my shadow pulse quickly fading.

"Yes." Tarna raises her arms and some of the grass near us rises. A earthly barricade now shields Tarna.

"Oh!" I exclaim. "You escaped too?"

"Yeah. We live here now." Tarna replies.

"Oh, sorry. We thought you were a U.T guy or something." I reply.

"I thought you were U.T. too. Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Sometimes, a U.T worker sees the Base, and they investigate, and we've got to attack, and I thought you were one of them."

"That's fine. No one got hurt, at least," I say. Still embarrassed for attacking me, Tarna quickly suggests we go free Shawn and Allen.

As we walk back to the Hideout, (or Base, whatever), I try to grip the situation. We've found more of us! Well, at least I think we did. I glance over at Tarna. With the light of the sun, I can see her much better. She is wearing leather boots, leather pants, and a leather jacket. Must like leather. She looks to be my age, but Allen taught me that looks can be misleading. She has tan hair, and she looks fit. Can she be trusted? I decide to try and learn her backstory.

"So, how did you get here?" I ask, hoping to send the lie that I'm not mad at her for attacking me. (Well, of course I'm frustrated. She did hack a sword at me. Multiple times.)

"A big breakout occurred when I was seven," Tarna explains. "I didn't really understand what was going on, but some older kids helped me get away. That made U.T furious. They sent out tons of workers to find us, and they got most of us. But my group ran away as far as we could. And eventually, we got here. We made it our base and lived here. Over time, some of us tried to leave and got caught. Others just died of hunger, or an injury. We now have four remaining people, and they are still in the Base." I'm eager to meet the others and tell Shawn and Allen the news. Luck has been great lately. Well, except for when Tarna almost killed me. Other than that, though, it's been a lucky break.

Okay, she seems pretty sure about this. So, I think she can be trusted. Maybe.