sanctuary | on hold indefinitely

two | stray

The air was bitterly cold as Devan emerged from the back entrance of the bookshop, and immediately she retreated into her scarf. She stopped outside the door, leaning against the brick wall and taking a breath to compose herself before making sure that her hood was hiding enough of her. She was in an alley between this building and the next, and the bins were filled with waste that made everything smell like rotting fruit. She closed her eyes as the images of bodies shrouded by bright orange flames flashed in her mind, the memory of trying not to choke on festering flesh pulling the breath from her for a moment.

When it passed, she opened her eyes and found that she was not alone. An elderly man with silver hair stood in front of her, peering at her from behind round, thick-framed glasses that were perched upon a red nose. His eyes were green, just like the Protector's. Where hers had been light and harmless, though, his were cold and stony.

"Who are you?" he asked, hostility lacing his words.

"Nobody." She began to walk away, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"You're not welcome here, Nobody," he snarled, causing Devan to glare from the shadows of her hood. "Whatever it is that you've asked my granddaughter to do, find another fool to do it. I don't want to see you here again."

"You won't." Devan barged past him, scraping her shoulder on the rough brick of the building opposite the bookshop. An anger was gradually building in her bones, and if she didn't walk away now, she was sure she would do something she would regret. She could hear the old man still muttering under his breath as she turned the corner and left the alley.

The streets were far busier now than they had been when she had last walked down them at dawn, and immediately her anger was replaced by anxiety, the paranoia of being watched causing her skin to prickle. Numbing it was the apathy that followed her everywhere, guarding her like a thin veil that separated her from the rest of the world, and she was glad for it. It allowed her to keep her head up, to keep walking down the cobbles and passing the mortals that sauntered around her, stopping at every shop window and weaving in and out of doors. 

A city was not the place she had expected to find the Protector. Hiding in plain sight was not something Devan had ever learned to do.

She followed the signs that sat on every lamppost, pointing her in the direction of the train station. Rounding another corner, she found she was heading away from the busy streets and shops. Cars whipped past her as the narrow streets widened into main roads and busy roundabouts with nothing but patches of grass and grey concrete lining them. She had never felt quite so lost before. She had always followed, never having to find her own way. For the first time in her life, she was completely alone.

At least, she thought she was until a voice behind her pulled her out of her own thoughts.

"Of all the towns you could run to, you couldn't have chosen one a little more exciting?"

Devan turned around, trying to hide her surprise at the person standing in front of her. It was her sister, Farah. Her perfectly straight hair fell across her shoulders like a black, silk curtain and her eyes glistened between hooded lids that were smudged with eyeliner. A wide grin twisted on her face as she awaited Devan's reaction.

Devan immediately looked behind her, expecting to find the rest of them, but the streets were deserted save for a few cars rushing by and a lady with a pram across the road.

"Don't worry," Farah said as though reading her mind. "It's only me. They don't know where you are ... yet."

"How did you find me?" She pulled her hood down, dragging Farah behind a shrub to conceal the both of them.

"I'm your sister. I'll always find you." It sounded like a threat, though Farah's voice was lazy and detached. If Devan was emotionless, it was because she had learned from the best. "What are you doing, running away like that? Filix will be beside himself with worry. I never took you for a stray."

Devan narrowed her eyes. "Filix will live. And you know I'm done with them, with all of it."

Farah pretended to look surprised, grabbing Farah's arm with her long, claw-like nails. "Darling, don't be silly. You're just confused. Come home and we'll figure it out together."

"No." Devan pulled her arm from her sister's grip, taking a step backwards. "I don't want to do it anymore." 

"Because you're Split?" She swapped her mask of surprise for one of sympathy and understanding. She had always been a better actress than Devan, a better actress than anyone. "Devan, you know that nobody sees you as any less because of that. You will always be one of us."

"Perhaps I don't want to be one of you." She couldn't hide her disgust, grimacing at the thought of them and what they had made her become.

Farah let out a shrill laugh that pierced Devan's ears even over the sound of the traffic. "Then what do you want? To be like Father? A Healer in hiding? You might have a little bit of blue in you, but the rest of you is pitch black. It always will be."

"I'm not a fool." Devan's voice rose in frustration. "Don't treat me like one."

"Then don't act like one," she snapped. "You belong with us, and if I found you so quickly, it won't take them long to, either. Enjoy this while it lasts, because soon enough you'll be back with the rest of us. This world," she motioned with her hands at the space around her, "isn't yours. It never will be."

"I don't intend to claim it as mine. I just intend to get away."

The smirk was back on her face, and she took another step back so that she was no longer sheltered by the shade of the tree. "Good luck with that, darling. You'll need it."

She didn't want to ask, didn't want to have her sister hold such power over her, but she had to. "Will you tell them where I am?"

"I won't need to. They'll find you soon enough."

Devan nodded, pulling her hood back up before she stepped back onto the street. "We'll see," she muttered as Farah began to walk away—in the opposite direction to the train station, much to Devan's relief.

The last thing she saw of her was her long black hair disappearing into grey.