After Fate Fell

41 • ELLA

Hey guys! Sorry for the really spread out chapters lately. College is super busy and I feel really overwhelmed a lot of the time. I still obviously love writing this story, so expect the chapters to keep coming! I'm hoping to publish more frequently.
-Braden

1 year, 3 months, and 17 days after it all
•ELLA•

The infinite sand stretches out in front of us. The wind blows in from all directions, confusing my feet as I take each step, not trusting the ever-shifting ground below them.

As awake as I felt earlier, I have to admit that I'm feeling a bit sluggish. Maybe I was just overcome by the initial adrenaline this morning, with Marina's speech motivating me and my constant push to be a leader. Now that that feeling's wearing off, I can't help but feel a little odd, but I try to push through it. The last thing I need to do right now is let my mind fill with negativity or distractions.

We walk in a direction Marina was sure felt right, and I trusted her, because I didn't feel anything, haven't felt anything, from Legacy or anything else, urging me to go in any direction or do anything. I haven't felt anything in what seems like so long, but it's actually been almost no time at all. I guess the possibility of losing one of the people...entities closest to me, makes time stretch in a way that didn't seem possible before.

We've been (hopefully) en route to the ocean or the river for probably a little over an hour, but I'm not entirely sure the time. So far, this trek we've set out on in hopes of freeing ourselves from the sand has held no avail...unless you count mirages dancing in the foreground, always far from reach. Despite this, no physical or verbal signs of frustration have been expressed. I think John and Five are intimidated by Marina's sureness in her step, her fire in her voice, her sharpness in her thoughts. I'm glad she has all of these things, because I am definitely lacking each and every one of the things she is so strong in in this moment.

She told me to lead the little caravan, if we can even call it that. She said that although she is the strong one in this moment, I need to be the one leading us, whether it's in moments where I actually feel like I'm the leader, or in moments like this one, where I feel like the furthest thing from a leader. She whispers to me from behind, mostly motivation, in hopes that my leadership role will revitalize itself, but to be honest, I'm happy to let her take the reins for a while. My mind needs some rest.

All of us have been mostly silent the entire morning, only a few words have been spoken aloud. I'm sure Five and John have had some sort of conversation back there, but between the sharpness of the wind against my ears, blocking out most sound, and the fact that I'm sure any conversations have been in whispers, I haven't heard any of it.

Any spoken conversation between Five, who is bringing up the rear of us, and I would take yelling, and probably eye contact, so we could read lips and hope we would get what the other said right. So unless there's an emergency, it's no use to give the effort.

//

Continuing into the next hour--at least what I presume to be the next hour--is the silence of voices, the roaring of the wind, and no sign of anything other than the shifting sands and the mirages that come with them, giving way to false and temporary excitement.

The images of mirages help me think of water...not the ocean or the river, but drinking water. We need to stay hydrated. I signal for us to stop.

I pull out a water bottle from my bag I have strapped tightly to by body, as if it could fly away at any moment, and take a series of gulps, turning the bottle 180 degrees as if that will help the water come out faster. It's not that I'm plagued by thirst, I have been feeling a slight dryness in my throat, but it's the fact that I know dehydration is taking over each of us without us fully realizing it. I know that if we let it go too long without hydrating ourselves, we could die out here within a day, maybe less.

I see Five and John reaching into their makeshift packs for their own bottles of water, and Marina is already gulping down her own. I guess maybe I can still lead, just in a different way in this instance, and it's just as important. Survival along the way is just as important as the final destination.

The water does not seem to revitalize me as I had hoped. We begin to move again, and at times I find myself fighting to keep my eyes open.

The sand burns hot beneath my feet. The wind is in my face, my hair is flying in the wind. The others follow behind me, scarves on their faces to block their eyes and mouths from the endless supply of sand, blown by the strong winds.

I'm sure it's another mirage. It has to be. It's always a mirage.
Behind me, I hear muffled voices.

"The ocean!" Marina yells out. I laugh a little, because she's named after the ocean. Marina as of the sea. That's funny. I feel tired.

We climb up higher, and we gain a wider view of the sea, stretching out before us. It's beautiful. I know Crayton would hate it here. Not only is it by the ocean, but there's even more sand than a regular beach. That's another thing he hated, sand. "S-A-N-D" I whisper. I like that word.

Then I hear the voices behind me again. Can they be quiet?

"What's that?" I hear someone say. I look in the direction they're pointing.

Through the mist made of sand not moisture, I can see a light. A huge light, emanating not from one point, but shining in an area miles wide. In the middle of the ocean.

I feel the sand hit my face. Who threw that at me?
"That's not funny" I say.

And I'm even more tired now. I laugh. I just slept last night silly, why would I be tired now? But it's okay. I could use the sleep, I tell myself. Good to be rested up. I realize I'm already lying down in the sand. So I rest my eyes a bit. I wonder what that light was. It's okay. Probably nothing.