Here is part 4. Thanks to all of those who have voted/commented/read this! I am planning on having two more parts, one of which will be the epilogue. They will be super long, so enjoy this short bit.
Love you all, my darlings.
Kevelle began his journey to partition a member of the Wishers. To ensure he was adequate enough to take on a job, he would have to talk to a Wisher and then study under a Questor. He was excited about the prospect and ready to begin his life as a working Wisher. He was ready to bring more significance to the Olusola name.
Unfortunately, in his quest to greatness, he did not see the young woman walking directly in front of him. His larger strides accounted for two of hers, and they were sprawled on the ground before either realized what had happened.
"Oh, miss, I am so sorry. I offer you my sincerest apologies," Kevelle stated in a soft tone as to not frighten the woman.
Kierstaer gazed into the brown eyes before her in a daze. "Oh, sir! It is no fault of yours! I should have been more focused on walking and where I was going! I apologize."
Kevelle offered a hand, as was Acceptable. He assisted the young woman onto her feet, ensured she was stable, and then abruptly dropped her hand. The two individuals moved aside so they would not interrupt anyone else who was making use of the sidewalk. "Are you feeling well? You are not seriously harmed, are you?"
Kierstaer shook her head and paired words with the action. "No, sir. I am feeling quite well. I may have a few bruises come tomorrow morning, but as of right now, there is not anything that is causing me pain."
Kevelle nodded and appraised the woman in front of him. She was much shorter and smaller in stature. She was also in a jumpsuit of sorts. "You are a Polisher, correct?"
"Aye, sir. I am a Polisher. I work in the factory down the street from here, about another three minute walk."
Kierstaer watched quietly at the man nodded in acceptance of her answer. "Very well. I should be on my way, and I do not wish to be the cause of your being late to your job. Have a good day, miss."
Still in a bit of shock, she could only reply with, "And you, too," before the well-dressed man disappeared into the light crowd.
>>>
Avriktael lay beside Timonthev in an attempt to regain his breathing. The two were sweaty, having just acted on basic instincts while they were drunk. Avriktael needed an outlet to reduce his stress, and Timonthev provided that outlet all too willingly. Of course, Avrik offered Tim protection in return, but that was a minor detail that, should it come down to it, Avrik would not stand by.
"Have you heard the news?"
Avrik groaned. "What news?"
"The Council is planning on wiping out the lower sectors. Anyone underneath the status of a Wisher is to be eliminated. Hell, even some of the Wishers are on the kill list."
Avrik shot up in surprise. "What?" he growled out harshly.
Tim nodded. "Yeah, I overheard one of the fucking Questors talking the other day when I was out stealing. Apparently, the Council is done with the people who they think are nothing more than shit. Resources are beginning to run low or something, and they need to eliminate people who aren't worth feeding."
"They don't fucking feed us in the first place," Avrik pointed out. "Did you happen to hear when this plan was supposed to happen?"
Tim shrugged. "Sometimes soon, I think. The way the Quester was talking, it was already in the works."
"Fuck," Avrik ground out between clenched teeth. He immediately began putting clothes on. He had to think, think of a way to get his sister to safety. Estolei didn't deserve to suffer at the hand of the Council. She hadn't done anything wrong. It was all him, damn it. "Don't say a word about this to anyone, all right?"
Tim agreed, "Of course," and watched his lover leave.
>>>
Mitchane and Scothmpson were reunited, much to their pleasure. While the blonde cleaned the kitchen, the brunette asked him question after question. Scothmpson would try and ask questions as well, but Mitchane would redirect the conversation any time that happened. While it would not be Acceptable for Scothmpson to ask Mitchane questions in any other situation, the two were in the privacy of a home and without supervision. Mitchane wasn't scared of breaking the rules by far, but he was not comfortable talking about himself, especially not when Scothmpson was so interesting. Plus, he was learning about the lie of a Polisher from an actual Polisher, not one of those Council-approved books that his parents kept throwing at him.
A relationship was quickly formed between the two young men. With time, they would grow even closer, but unfortunately, that was something the two of them didn't have much of.
